Hercule Poirot and Peter Griffin are stuck in Trapped Elevator in a Mine Shaft and forced to have a deep conversation.

Here's the conversation:

1. Poirot: *Mon Dieu,* this is most unsettling! Trapped, in a mine shaft? Such a pedestrian end for the great Hercule Poirot.

2. Peter: Eh, don't sweat it, Poirot. Happens all the time! Remember that time I got stuck in a giant gumball machine? Good times!

3. Poirot: Good times? *Non, non, non!* This confinement stirs the little grey cells! We must deduce our escape!

4. Peter: Escape? Nah, I'm thinking more about escape *food*. You think they got any of those peanut butter crackers down here?

5. Poirot: Food is secondary, Monsieur Griffin! This is a challenge of intellect! A puzzle box constructed of steel and despair!

6. Peter: You know, you're kinda intense, Poirot. Relax! Maybe this is fate. Like, maybe we're supposed to learn something from all this.

7. Poirot: Fate? *Bah!* Fate is for the undisciplined mind! We create our own destiny, one meticulously planned deduction at a time.

8. Peter: Okay, okay, Mr. Fancy Pants. But what if our destiny is to just, like, chill here and wait for Lois to find us? She's resourceful.

9. Poirot: Resourceful, perhaps, but *incapable* of the logical precision required to unravel this mechanical conundrum! We are alone in our struggle.

10. Peter: Alright, alright, geez! Fine! I'll help you think. But if I get hungry, I'm blaming you, Poirot! Blame you right to your little mustache.