Emma Stone and John Lennon are stuck in Stuck in a Desert Gas Station and forced to have a deep conversation.

Emma Stone: (Sighs, twirling a strand of her red hair) Well, this is just lovely. Stuck in existential purgatory fueled by questionable gas station coffee.

John Lennon: (Adjusting his glasses, gazing at the swirling sand) Purgatory, love? I reckon it's just another Monday. Imagine all the people, stuck in worse places, yeah?

Emma Stone: Easier said than done, John. Isn't it always? The imagining, I mean. Turning the abstract into something real, something tangible.

John Lennon: Real is what you make it, pet. Strawberry fields forever, or a dusty gas pump – same difference, really. It's all in your head.

Emma Stone: But what if what's in my head is a giant, Technicolor anxiety monster demanding I achieve enlightenment before sundown?

John Lennon: Then you tell that monster to chill out and have a cuppa. Enlightenment's overrated anyway. Peace is the real trip.

Emma Stone: Peace feels… passive. Like accepting defeat. I need to *do* something, make a dent.

John Lennon: Doing is being, love. Being yourself, that's the biggest dent you can make.

Emma Stone: (Looking at him, a flicker of understanding) So, just… be Emma, even here, with the stale pretzels and existential dread?

John Lennon: Exactly! Now, let's find some crisps. Perhaps a little Imagine can be found in this desolate place.