David Bowie and Margaret Atwood are stuck in Stuck in a Desert Gas Station and forced to have a deep conversation.

David Bowie: "This desolate landscape, you see, Margaret, is merely a stage for the grand performance of existential dread, wouldn't you agree? The heat, the dust... it's all part of the costume."

Margaret Atwood: "Dread, David, is a rather theatrical term for the quiet, insidious fear that the water tank will run dry and no one will ever find our bones bleaching in the sun."

David Bowie: "But isn't that a fabulous plot twist? A shimmering, shimmering tale of forgotten heroes and the cosmic indifference of the universe?"

Margaret Atwood: "Cosmic indifference doesn't care about plot, David; it cares about the lack of potable water and the increasing number of buzzards circling overhead."

David Bowie: "Perhaps we should reinvent ourselves, then? Become desert nomads, adorned in repurposed gas station signage and fuelled by the sheer audacity of our survival."

Margaret Atwood: "Audacity won't fix the hole in the radiator, nor will it ward off the rattlesnakes; practicality, David, a good wrench, that's what will save us."

David Bowie: "But where's the artistry in practicality? The flamboyant rebellion against the mundane? We need to paint our faces with oil and sing to the stars!"

Margaret Atwood: "The stars aren't listening, David; they're just indifferent pinpricks of light reminding us how small and insignificant we are against the vastness of it all."

David Bowie: "Precisely! And that, my dear Margaret, is the ultimate creative inspiration - to defy the insignificant, to become legends in our own gas station mythology!"

Margaret Atwood: "Legends die of thirst, David. I'll take a screwdriver and a full tank of gas over a legend any day."