1962, Possible Heaven. Peter and Moses are huddled over a small black-and-white television set, watching the Nobel Prize announcements.

Television: And the Nobel Prize in Physics goes to, for his pioneering theories for condensed matter...

Peter: Yes! I got this one!

Television: Lev Landau!

Peter: Another point for me! Who do you got, chief?

Moses: Landau. Jew, by the way.

Peter: Rats. We're even again.

Television: And the Nobel Prize in Literature goes to...

Peter: Oh, there's no way you're getting this one, chief.

Television: John Steinbeck!

Peter: Score! He was due for years!

Moses: Score one for me as well.

Peter: No!

Moses: Yes. And Steinbeck still puts me to sleep, Nobel or no Nobel.

Peter: Damnation! 60 years we've been doing these pools, and you keep on winning!

Moses: I told you, Pete, leave gambling to professionals.

Peter: Well, it's not over yet, we've still got Medicine this year. And I tell you, ever since they started sharing the prize, this has gotten easier!

Moses: If you say so.

Television: And the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine goes to, for their discoveries concerning the molecular structure of nucleic acids...

Peter: Yes, yes, yes!

Television: Francis Crick, James Watson, and Maurice Wilkins!

Peter: What?

Moses: Crick, Watson, and Wilkins. I got Crick. Whom do you have?

Peter: Rosalind Franklin...

Moses: Oooh. Tough one.

Peter: But Rosalind Franklin was essential in the discovery of DNA. This is sexism! Antisemitism!

Moses: Pete, Rosalind has been dead for four years. Ovarian cancer. They don't give Nobels to dead people.

Peter: But... but... I would have seen her at the gates!

Moses: Must have missed her, old chap.

Peter: Don't tell me Judas was subbing for me that day!

Moses: Might have been, might have been...

Peter: Oh, that's not fair. You paid him off not to tell me she was dead, didn't you?

Moses: I'm not saying I did, but if he voluntarily withheld information...

Peter: You did, you did pay him off!

Moses: Ha! Worth every penny!

Peter: Oh come on, chief, that's just not fair...

Moses: Life... err... death is not fair, old chap. Now pay up. Double or nothing next year?

Peter: As always.