“Come on, come on, what odds are you giving” the little man said to his bookie.

“Odds for what?” the bookie replied. Business drastically fell off once every one knew that the world would end on the Sunday. No one bet for or against brazil in the next world cup.

“What are the odds you are giving that we survive the meteor?”

The television had said that the scientists were certain to 99.97 percent probability that the earth would be hit by the meteor. Imminent death was certain for all life on the planet.

“I don’t know.” He said. “I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“I want to place a bet. I want to bet we survive. What odds will you give me?” the little man demanded.

The bookie was puzzled for a moment. “10,000 to 1” he finally spoke.

“Great, here’s 175,000. Give me the ticket.”

The bookie wrote out the ticket and thought, if we don’t get killed, I won’t have the money to pay off that debt.

As the little man walked away, he thought, if we do get killed, he will never know that check would bounce.