George Washington and Rosé are stuck in Stranded in a Lunar Base and forced to have a deep conversation.

"Blast this infernal vacuum, it's quite unlike the Potomac's gentle breeze," Washington sighed, gazing at the desolate landscape.

Rosé tilted her head, "Unnie, it's a new kind of beautiful, isn't it? Like a blank canvas for our dreams."

"Dreams, Miss Rosé, require fertile ground, not this barren rock," Washington countered, his brow furrowed.

"But even in barrenness, something can blossom, President Washington," Rosé replied softly, "Resilience, perhaps?"

"Resilience is forged in hardship, and hardship tests our very character," Washington stated, his voice firm.

"And character, Unnie, is what we bring to any world, any stage," Rosé added, gesturing to the lunar horizon.

Washington pondered, "A leader's character, then, must be unyielding to temptation and devoted to the common good, even here."

Rosé smiled, "Like a song that uplifts, even when the melody is simple and the setting is stark."

"Perhaps," Washington conceded, a flicker of understanding in his eyes, "perhaps this moon does offer a different kind of liberty after all."

"It's a chance, President Washington, to write a new verse, together," Rosé finished, her gaze filled with hopeful determination.