Bernie Sanders and Ridley Scott are stuck in Abandoned Amusement Park Overnight and forced to have a deep conversation.

"This park, Ridley, it's a microcosm of late-stage capitalism," Bernie grumbled, gesturing at a rusting Ferris wheel. "Profits squeezed, corners cut, and now, abandoned to rot."

Ridley, gazing at the dilapidated carousel horses, replied, "Fascinating. The decay itself tells a story, a visual narrative of ambition's failure."

"Failure driven by greed, Ridley! The working class built this, and the one percent profited while it crumbled," Bernie retorted, his voice rising.

"But within that decay, Bernie, there's beauty, a raw honesty that manufactured perfection often lacks," Ridley countered, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

Bernie sighed, "Beauty doesn't feed a hungry child, Ridley. Beauty doesn't pay the rent when the factory closes."

"No, but it can inspire, Bernie. A glimpse of the sublime even in the ruins can ignite the imagination, offer a new perspective," Ridley stated, leaning against a broken arcade game.

"Imagination needs resources, Ridley! We need to redistribute the wealth, so everyone has the chance to create, to dream!" Bernie exclaimed, his fist clenching.

"Perhaps. But the human spirit, Bernie, it's remarkably resilient. It finds a way, even in the face of utter desolation," Ridley pondered, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon.

"Resilience can only be stretched so far, Ridley. We need systemic change, not just romanticizing the struggle," Bernie insisted, his voice filled with conviction.

"Perhaps we both see the same destination, Bernie, just from different angles, using different lenses to focus the light," Ridley concluded, a thoughtful silence falling between them.