"Don't do that!" Napoleon said as his partner ducked beneath a ladder.
"Why it is just a ladder, there is nothing resting upon it; so no danger of anything falling on me?" Illya answered, a bit confused by his friends warning.
"You don't know what day it is?"
"Of course I do. I checked my calendar. It is Friday."
"Yeah, but the date Illya."
"It is the thirteenth...oh yes that is the date you Americans are so concerned with."
"Illya, it's only the most unlucky day of the year." Solo chided him.
"Napoleon how can a day be unlucky?"
"Bad things just tend to happen on Friday the thirtheen that's all"
There was a loud crash and the two looked back, seeing that the ladder that the Russian had just walked under had fallen.
"See what I mean?" Napoleon said.
"I would take it as being lucky, my friend as I was not under it when it fell." Illya smiled, "so what are the other things that one is supposed to avoid on this unfortunte date?"
"Black cats are bad...you shouldn't let one cross your path."
"Oh so when I stopped to pet Mrs. Manetti's cat 'Midnight" this morning I was supposed to have bad luck?"
"Yup, the worst kind."
"Well after I finished petting the cat, I found a twenty dollar bill laying beside the curb."
"And nothing happened?"
"Well the awning above my head fell down on one side and hit..."
"Ah ha! See so something bad did happen to you! See!"
"You did not let me finish Napoleon. Had I not been bent over petting the cat I would have been hit in the head by it."
"Oh" He said as they sat to drink their coffee at a table in the commissary.
"So what else must I avoid?" Illya was chuckling at this point.
"What ever you do, don't break a mirror!"
"That I can understand, broken glass can be very dangerous thing."
"No, a broken mirror brings seven years bad luck!"
The Russian sighed as he was tiring of this very unscientific discussion about silly supestitions.
"Look just remember to knock on wood, keep your fingers crossed, sleep facing south,walk in the rain, avoid cracks in the sidewalk, keep an acorn in you pocket, and if you see a penny on the ground don't touch it unless it's heads up and you will avoid bad luck."
Napoleon proceeded to throw a handful of salt over his left shoulder as they got up from the table, when Illya's new shoes slipped on it, sending him flying feet first; falling to the floor. He sat there, red-faced with embarrassment, glaring at his partner.
"See...what'd I tell you? Friday the Thirteenth!" Solo warned him.