Elon Musk and Sigmund Freud are stuck in Submarine on Lockdown and forced to have a deep conversation.

Here is their conversation:

"The relentless pressure, wouldn't you agree, doctor, mirrors the societal forces suppressing humanity's true potential?" Elon began, gesturing expansively in the cramped space.

Freud, stroking his beard, retorted, "Or perhaps it's a symbolic return to the womb, triggering primal anxieties about dependency and the oceanic feeling."

"Dependency? I'm liberating humanity from terrestrial constraints, aiming for Mars, the ultimate escape from such infantile fixations!" Elon scoffed.

"Escape is a myth, Herr Musk; the Oedipal complex follows us even to the stars, shaping our ambitions and our technological prowess." Freud countered, his gaze intense.

"Nonsense! My rockets are driven by engineering, not repressed desires for my mother!" Elon insisted, tapping a control panel impatiently.

"Ah, but the rocket, a phallic symbol par excellence, thrusting upwards… is it not a manifestation of a deeply buried, unacknowledged drive?" Freud asked, a glint in his eye.

Elon paused, considering. "Perhaps. But even if so, I'm harnessing that drive for the betterment of civilization, not wallowing in neurosis."

"Civilization itself is built upon repressed instincts, a precarious balance between Eros and Thanatos, always threatening to erupt," Freud warned softly.

"Then we must engineer a better balance, a future where technology transcends these primitive urges," Elon declared, his voice full of conviction.

"A noble, yet ultimately futile, endeavor, my dear Musk. The unconscious always finds a way," Freud concluded, a slight smile playing on his lips.