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

"This heat is simply dreadful, far more barbaric than any trend," Coco sighed, delicately fanning herself with a tattered gas station map.

"Back on Krypton, the sun was red," Mansuper rumbled, gazing at the shimmering horizon, "But even I feel this desolation."

"Desolation is a muse, *mon cher*, but it needs structure, a beautiful cut to define it," Coco countered, eyeing a rusty oil drum.

"Structure without hope, Mademoiselle, is just another prison, another world crumbling," Mansuper stated somberly.

"Hope is for the masses, I deal in timeless elegance, a strength that defies fleeting sentiment," Coco declared, adjusting her nonexistent pearls.

"Elegance is a mask, a disguise from the vulnerability we all share, even the strongest," Mansuper replied, his gaze holding a hidden sadness.

"Vulnerability is a weakness I refuse to indulge, a flaw in the design, a thread undone," Coco retorted sharply.

"But isn't that undone thread the very thing that makes us human, Mademoiselle? Imperfect, yet capable of great love," Mansuper asked gently.

"Love is a distraction, a fleeting fancy compared to the enduring power of creation," Coco scoffed, examining her reflection in a cracked mirror.

"Perhaps, Mademoiselle, but even the most enduring creation crumbles without a touch of love to sustain it," Mansuper concluded, his eyes fixed on the setting sun.