It was a dark and stormy night. The moon was full. The air was thick with the scent of burning incense. And in a dimly lit, smoke-filled cave, two prophets, Fernand and Mach, sat across from each other.
Their mission: to decide the fate of the world. To determine the course of history. To settle the score.
Fernand, a self-proclaimed visionary, had foreseen the end of days. He had seen it all: the rise and fall of civilizations, the birth and death of stars.
Mach, on the other hand, had a more...practical approach. He believed in the power of data. Numbers. Statistics.
The two prophets sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. The only sound: the crackle of a lone firefly, the occasional distant thunderclap.
Fernand, breaking the silence, spoke in hushed tones:
"I see a future of endless possibility. A realm of wonder."
Mach, his voice dripping with skepticism:
"I see a spreadsheet. And a 2% chance of rain."
And so the meeting went on, with neither side willing to budge.
But what did they decide? Only time will tell.