Freddie Mercury and Greta Thunberg are stuck in Stuck in a Desert Gas Station and forced to have a deep conversation.

"Darling," Freddie began, fanning himself with a tattered magazine, "this heat is simply barbaric! Is nothing sacred anymore?"

Greta sighed, her gaze fixed on the shimmering horizon. "Sacred is the Arctic ice, Mr. Mercury, melting faster than your vocal runs."

"Oh, I know a thing or two about melting hearts, my dear," Freddie chuckled, "but tell me, this urgency... can't we just sing a song about it?"

"We've sung songs, we've pleaded," Greta retorted, "now we need action. Your stage was a platform; use it to amplify real change!"

Freddie paused, a flicker of seriousness in his eyes. "Perhaps you're right. Extravagance must have a purpose, beyond mere entertainment."

"Every breath we take is a responsibility," Greta stated firmly, "a debt to a future we're jeopardizing."

"Bohemian Rhapsody indeed," Freddie mused, "a world tumbling towards a tragic crescendo, unless we change the tune."

"Change is possible," Greta insisted, "but it requires more than just wishing upon a star. It demands sacrifice."

"Sacrifice, eh? A rather un-rock and roll concept, wouldn't you say?" Freddie said, tilting his head.

Greta looked at him pointedly. "Is it more rock and roll than watching the world burn?"