Setting: A park bench in Moscow. It’s spring, the trees are in bloom, and the streets are bustling. Andrei and Misha, two lifelong friends in their 30s, are sipping coffee from paper cups, watching pigeons gather around a vendor tossing breadcrumbs.
Andrei:
(suddenly yelps)
Chyort! A bird just pooped on my shoulder! This is amazing!
Misha:
(chuckling)
Wait—amazing? That stain looks like it’s trying to escape down your jacket.
Andrei:
No, no, you don’t get it! It means good luck is coming. Everyone knows that. It’s a sign!
Misha:
(grinning)
You’ve been saying that since university. I remember when a pigeon hit your car and you played the lottery. Didn’t you win… what, 50 rubles?
Andrei:
Fifty rubles and a free pastry at the bakery. Coincidence? I think not.
Misha:
Come on, Andrei. Statistically, birds poop wherever and whenever. It’s not divine intervention—it’s digestion. Random splatter, not fate.
Andrei:
But look at it this way—what are the odds it lands on me, out of all people in this entire park?
Misha:
High enough, given how many birds are here and how long we’ve been sitting. You’re basically a target in a bright hoodie.
Andrei:
Still! You know, my babushka used to say, “When misfortune rains, it washes luck from the skies.” Bird poop counts.
Misha:
Your babushka also told us never to whistle indoors or we’d lose all our money. She said sweeping after sunset brings poverty.
Andrei:
And she was never broke!
Misha:
Because she budgeted like a hawk, not because she avoided brooms after 6 p.m.
Andrei:
(laughs)
Fine, but let me tell you something. Last year, a seagull blessed my balcony and my phone—same day. I was furious. But the next morning, I got that unexpected promotion. I didn’t even apply for it!
Misha:
And you think the seagull sent your boss a memo? “Andrei’s phone has been anointed. Promote him”?
Andrei:
Maybe not directly. But maybe it set the universe in motion. Chaos in, luck out.
Misha:
(sipping coffee)
Okay, let me play your game. What if the poop is just…poop? But because you believe it means good luck, you walk around in a better mood, take more chances, act more confidently—and that leads to something good happening?
Andrei:
That’s…actually a pretty clever theory.
Misha:
So it’s not the pigeon; it’s you. You’re the magic, not the mess.
Andrei:
(smirking)
Still, feels nice to think the universe gave me a nudge—messy or not.
Misha:
Just don’t come crying to me when a flock drops a “blessing” on your new laptop. Scientific law: electronics and bird crap do not mix well.
Andrei:
Deal. But if that happens, I’m buying a lottery ticket and investing in cleaning wipes.
Misha:
(sighs)
At least let me buy you a new jacket before the “luck” soaks in.
Andrei:
Fine. But remember: if you get hit next, I’m demanding a public apology—and a toast to your newfound luck.
Misha:
If that happens, I’ll write a research paper titled Avian Blessings: A Correlation Between Guano and Good Fortune.
Science Vs Superstition 
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