Freddie Mercury and Oprah Winfrey are stuck in Cabin in a Snowstorm and forced to have a deep conversation.

"Darling, this blizzard is quite the dramatic entrance, even for me," Freddie declared, adjusting his flamboyant scarf.

"Freddie, honey, life itself is a dramatic entrance, but it's what you do with the stage that matters," Oprah responded, her eyes twinkling.

"Indeed, but a stage is useless without an audience, wouldn't you agree, my dear?" Freddie mused, swirling imaginary champagne.

"I believe everyone is their own audience, Freddie, and their own toughest critic; self-love is the real encore."

Freddie sighed dramatically. "Oh, to be loved unconditionally by oneself... harder than hitting that high C, I'd wager."

Oprah nodded sagely. "It's about facing your shadows, Freddie, the parts of yourself you keep hidden, and embracing them."

"Shadows? I prefer a spotlight, darling! Less existential dread, more fabulous light," Freddie countered with a wink.

"But the spotlight can blind you, Freddie; true clarity comes from acknowledging the darkness that makes the light shine brighter."

Freddie paused, considering. "Perhaps... perhaps the darkness is just a different kind of stage, waiting to be lit."

"Exactly, Freddie," Oprah smiled warmly. "And darling, you have the voice to illuminate it."