[Scene: A sunny Easter morning in a park in Aarhus. Lars is setting up a small basket of brightly painted eggs at the top of a gentle hill. Mikkel arrives with two coffees.]
Mikkel: (grinning) Morning, Lars. Let me guess… you’re preparing for the Great Egg Olympics again?
Lars: (serious and focused) It’s not a game, Mikkel. This is sacred. These eggs have been blessed with luck. Painted, blessed, and now they must roll. Only then will fortune favor us this year.
Mikkel: [hands over a coffee] You do realize that rolling a painted egg down a hill doesn’t change the laws of probability, right?
Lars: [raising an eyebrow] Ah, Mikkel. You always bring coffee and skepticism. But tell me—didn’t I roll a blue egg last year and then find that vintage LEGO set at the flea market the very next day?
Mikkel: Correlation, not causation. You also drank coffee that day and wore your “World’s Okayest Uncle” t-shirt. Should we start blessing the coffee too?
Lars: [mock serious] Don’t mock the egg, my friend. The tradition is older than your scientific journal subscriptions. My grandmother swore by it. She painted eggs every Easter and never missed a bus in her life.
Mikkel: Or maybe she was just good at time management?
Lars: [chuckling] You’re no fun. Science can’t explain everything.
Mikkel: Actually, that’s kind of its job—to explain things. Like why eggs roll downhill in the first place. Gravity. Not grandma’s charm.
Lars: But it’s not just about rolling. The color, the brushstrokes, the hill—it all matters. Last year I rolled a red egg and dropped my phone the next day. This year, only green and blue. Calming vibes. No techno-doom.
Mikkel: And yet, in a lab, if we ran this “egg rolling fortune” experiment 100 times, we’d find no statistical pattern. You’re assigning meaning after the fact. It’s like saying rain dances cause rain because it rained once when you did one.
Lars: So you’re saying my eggs are scientifically meaningless?
Mikkel: As far as altering luck? Yes. As art? Actually, they’re quite good this year. Is that a dragon on this one?
Lars: It’s a fertility serpent. For growth and abundance. Clearly, you didn’t read the folklore pamphlet I gave you.
Mikkel: I used it to level a wobbly bookshelf.
Lars: [laughs] Okay, okay. But answer me this—what’s the harm in a little belief? Doesn’t it make life more colorful? You analyze everything until the magic leaks out.
Mikkel: I’m not anti-magic. I’m pro-truth. But I’ll admit—there’s something sweet about seeing a grown man whisper to an egg like it’s a stock investment.
Lars: [grinning] This one is an investment. If it rolls far and clean, I’m buying crypto again.
Mikkel: There it is. Science can’t save you from bad financial decisions.
[Lars kneels, places an egg at the hilltop, and gives it a gentle push. It rolls… bounces once… and lands squarely in a bush.]
Lars: Huh. Mixed signal. Could mean moderate success with minor setbacks.
Mikkel: Or just a bushy hill.
Lars: [thoughtfully] Maybe I need a new hill.
Mikkel: Or a new hypothesis. But I’ll say this, Lars: you might be rolling eggs for luck, but you’re also rolling joy into tradition. And that? That’s a kind of magic I can’t argue with.
Lars: [smiling] Truce?
Mikkel: Truce. But next Easter, we test your eggs under controlled conditions. Double-blind. Peer-reviewed. Maybe publish in The Journal of Folklore Physics.
Lars: [laughs] Deal. But only if we include an appendix on the fertility serpent.
[They clink coffee cups and watch another egg wobble down the hill.]
End Scene.
Science Vs Superstition 
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