Two men sit on the ground in a place that is remarkable simply because of its complete lack of remarkability. It could be a cavern, or a hut, or even a natural outcropping. It lacks anything even resembling character, unlike the two men, who sit facing each other, their postures illustrating an antagonistic relationship. The two men look almost exactly alike, except that one has black hair and a goatee, while the other has reddish brown hair and is clean-shaven. One of the men has a large bag full of coins next to him. The other does not. The first man flips a coin and stares at it.
"Heads." He tosses the coin into his bag, where it lands with a metallic jingle, then flips another coin that appears out of thin air.
"Heads," he repeats as he throws the coin into his pouch and flips a third coin.
"Heads." Now he looks up, glaring at the other man. "What's the score?"
"Seventy-sex," the second man says.
"See," the first man growls. "Even you have to admit that that's just not possible. The laws of probability have just been beaten and raped right in front of you. The law of averages," he says this last with a sneer, displaying his utter contempt for the mere concept of laws, or perhaps of averages, "states that if you throw a bunch of mortals into the air, they're equally likely to land on their heads as on their asses." He pauses, considering. "I never actually tried that. I should, when I get back. Just to test."
"Perhaps," the second man says, "the laws are merely guidelines? You know, like suggestions? Not actually laws, per se."
The first man glares, the kind of glare that should have reduced the second man to a quivering mass, but it instead bounces harmlessly off him, although a nearby plant cringes.
"They are laws," the first man grits through his teeth. "And if Athena ever heard you say that, she'd kill you herself."
"Athena? The goddess of the forge?"
The first man sighs. "Goddess of Wisdom, idiot. And my point is, the mere fact that I managed to make the coins come up heads seventy-six times in a row in a flagrant violation of the laws of probability and possibly even physics proves that I'm a god."
The second man considers this, scratching his chin. "I suppose you do have a point. But there could be other explanations, you know."
"Like what? Zeus declared this a probability-free zone?" He pauses. "Of course, what are the odds I'd be trapped here with you?"
"Exactly!" The second man sounds quite happy. The first, however, rolls his eyes.
"I don't know why the Sovereign didn't kill you. I know I would have."
The second man stares at the ground, a sad expression on his face, and doesn't reply. The first man sighs, running has hand through his hair.
"Look, I don't like this any more than you do. But we're stuck here until someone opens that damn vortex again, so we might as well try to entertain ourselves. And if I kill you, my Iphicles will never speak to me again."
"I still don't believe you're really a god," the second man says, mulishly. "Maybe I'm the god and I'm affecting the laws of probability and just letting you think you're a god. Maybe you're the insane one, not me."
The first man sighs and conjures a gold coin out of thin air. "Shall we try this again?"
