[Scene: Ivan’s apartment in Saint Petersburg. The table is set for dinner with two bowls of borscht, some black bread, and a bottle of vodka sitting on the table.]
Ivan: (snatches the bottle and puts it on the floor) Bozhe moy, Alexei! You almost gave me a heart attack.
Alexei: What did I do now?
Ivan: You left the vodka bottle on the table! Don’t you know that brings bad luck? It’s a well-known rule.
Alexei: (smirks) Ah yes, the dreaded Table Vodka Curse. Next, you’ll tell me to knock on wood and spin in circles.
Ivan: (seriously) Laugh all you want, but ever since I started following this rule, my life’s been… calmer.
Alexei: Let me guess, no bears have broken into your kitchen either? Amazing results.
Ivan: Don’t be cheeky. It’s not just me. Even my babushka said it. Leaving an empty bottle on the table is like inviting poverty into your home. You put it on the floor to show respect—to the spirits, to tradition, to your wallet.
Alexei: Ivan, you know I love your babushka, but let’s break this down. Is there any scientific study that says table-top bottles have economic consequences?
Ivan: And is there any study that says they don’t?
Alexei: That’s not how science works. If I told you that sleeping with onions in your socks keeps the wolves away, would you believe it just because no one’s disproved it?
Ivan: Depends. Are we in Siberia?
Alexei: (laughs) Fair point. But seriously, this rule started back in the Tsarist days—when people drank at the table, got rowdy, and the police charged a “table tax” per bottle in restaurants. So people started hiding them under the table to dodge the fee.
Ivan: (pauses) Huh. I did not know that.
Alexei: See? It’s about avoiding taxes, not avoiding bad luck. Bureaucracy, not the supernatural.
Ivan: Okay, but traditions have power. Even if the origin was practical, maybe it carries symbolic meaning now. Like… cleaning your shoes before you enter a house. It shows respect.
Alexei: Sure. I’m all for respect. But I draw the line at being afraid of furniture placement. Otherwise, next thing we know, you’ll be burying your wallet under the threshold during the new moon.
Ivan: (grinning) I did that once. Found 500 rubles in my coat pocket the next day.
Alexei: And did you ever think that maybe you just forgot it was there?
Ivan: (mock offended) You have no poetry in your soul.
Alexei: I have plenty. I just like my poetry peer-reviewed.
Ivan: (laughs) Look, maybe I don’t need a study. Maybe I just need to feel like I’m doing something to keep the chaos away.
Alexei: I get that. Rituals help people feel in control. But how about this—how about we toast to logic and tradition? Bottle on the floor, but no fear attached.
Ivan: Deal. But if we both go broke next week, I’m blaming your “peer-reviewed poetry.”
Alexei: And I’ll blame your babushka’s floor vodka.
[They clink glasses, laughing, the bottle now safely on the floor—but without superstition, just shared history.]
Science Vs Superstition 
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