Coco Chanel and Muhammad Ali are stuck in Stuck in a Desert Gas Station and forced to have a deep conversation.

Here's the conversation:

"This place...it lacks a certain je ne sais quoi, wouldn't you agree? All this beige," Coco Chanel sighed, flicking dust from her impeccable suit.

"Beige ain't nothin' but the color of surrender, Miss Coco. I'm the greatest, and even greatness can't escape the desert heat," Ali countered, wiping his brow.

"Surrender is never an option, darling. One must *create* beauty, even in the face of such desolate mediocrity," she retorted, adjusting her pearls.

"Beauty is power, that's what you're sayin'? I know power, Miss Coco. I shook up the world with it," Ali proclaimed, a glint in his eye.

"Power is fleeting, mon ami. Style, elegance...that is eternal. It transcends any single victory," Chanel stated, her voice firm.

"Eternal? Even the rumble in the jungle had to end. Everything ends, even the prettiest flower wilts," Ali said, his tone softening.

"Perhaps, but the *idea* of the flower, the memory of its bloom, that remains. That is what I create," Chanel insisted, gesturing expansively.

"So you're fighting time itself, huh? That's a bigger fight than Foreman ever was," Ali chuckled, a hint of admiration in his voice.

"Indeed. And you, Mr. Ali, you fought conformity. You dared to be different, a champion inside and out," Chanel conceded, a rare smile gracing her lips.

"We all gotta fight something, right? Make our mark before the sand swallows us whole," Ali concluded, looking out at the endless horizon.