"The promise of money was enough to send Quinn packing and she voluntarily became the mole's fifth victim." Will stood in front of the ski lift. "The players were now depleted by half, left with half their original number. Suspicions closing in and it would get harder to pick them off. Two more executions remained until the finale. Can you answer that question? Who is the mole?

"Ten strangers, working together to reach a prize total of one million dollars. But among them is a saboteur, a traitor, a double agent working for us to try and hinder the other players from banking the money. That person is the mole. Their task is simple. To win the money, they must answer one question. Who is the mole?

"Is it Santana Lopez?

"Finn Hudson?

"Kurt Hummel?

"Mercedes Jones?

"Or Blaine Anderson?"

The profile number had dropped to five as Quinn's was removed from the intro. The opening credits continued to roll as the camera panned to the breakfast table out on the patio.

"Congratulations on making it to the final five," Will said. "The stakes are now higher. With only five of you left, it can be anyone," he went on. They sat quietly sipping their juice and water and coffee. "Do you guys like milk?"

The group perked up. That was a curious off the wall question. It had nothing to do with anything. Or so they thought. They didn't know what was ahead.

"Milk does a body good," Blaine said, earning a playful judge from Kurt who was sitting beside him. "What?" he asked, looking over at the pale man. Kurt just shook his head in reply.

"That it does," Will said. "Curious, what would you do if you had to pay a thousand dollars for a drink of milk?"

"Is this going somewhere?" Santana asked.

Will grinned at her. He reached into a bowl in the center of the table and plucked out a small red chili pepper, something the rest of them had not even noticed had been there. "Would you eat this?" he asked, offering it to Santana. She wrinkled her nose at him.

"And have hot breath? Not likely. Maybe if you gave me milk." She froze, realizing what she had just said. "Very clever butt chin," she snapped. Will only chuckled and set the pepper down.

"More on that later. How are you all feeling after Quinn left the game last night?" he asked.

Mercedes was the first one to speak. "I admire her strength to accept the offer," she said. "But I'm happy for her. She'll put that money to good use, what with her wedding to plan. I'm sure it will make her fiancé very happy."

Blaine shook his head. "I'm surprised actually," he said. Kurt looked at him for a moment in confusion because Blaine had told him after the execution the night before that he had voted for her too. "I did vote for Quinn but I honestly thought that since she'd added so much money to the pot on her own, she would have thought it was only fair she got her full shot at it. Of course, none of us knew what we were voting her for."

I did, thought the mole.

"So these thoughts came after you made the offer. Still, I'm glad it meant that the group neutralization did not actually take its toll on one of us." He was right about that.

"Honestly dude," Finn said, looking at Will. "I was really freaked out when you said we were still going through with the execution because honestly, how was that even fair?"

"I apologize Finn," Will replied. "To be honest, I'm guessing right along with you guys." They all stared at him wide eyed.

"Let me get this straight," Santana said. "You're the host of this show and yet, you have no idea who the mole is? I'd think they'd tell you."

Will shook his head. "Nope. But I'm having fun guessing along. I can't actually play with you guys because I'm the host as you said, but it's fun to think who might be the mole anyway."

There was silence for a moment before it was broken by Kurt. "Well, I think it makes sense that you don't know," he said, brow creasing in thought. "If you think about it, you are the host and while you have guidelines to follow, knowing who the mole is might still cause you to slip up and release valuable information."

Will nodded his head as they caught what Kurt was getting at. "Now, before I move with today's game," he said nodding toward the chili that was still in the bowl. "Exemptions at this stage in the game are extremely crucial. Making it to the final three is a major accomplishment. So, there are only two exemptions left to be earned. One for each execution. The first one, I'm going to just offer you now. Here's the deal, I will gladly give an exemption to one player, guaranteeing them a spot in the final four if you can unanimously select who gets it."

The players all looked at each other. How was this fair? They had to unanimously decide who to give an exemption to? They all wanted to make it to the final four and then onto the final three.

"If you arrive at a decision and successfully unanimously select someone to receive the exemption, I will give you five dollars. If not, you get no money, and no one will have an exemption from tomorrow night's quiz. You have fifteen minutes to make a decision."

"Wait, we have to decide this now?" Santana said. Will nodded. She rolled her eyes.

"I think we should give it to Mercedes," Blaine said. The other players looked at him, knowing the ever generous curly-haired man would never vote for himself.

"Because she is the only one left who hasn't had one yet?" Kurt asked. Blaine nodded his head. The others could see the fairness in that. Of everyone left at the table, Mercedes was the only one who had not received an exemption so far.

"I think that sounds fair," Finn said with a nod.

"That's sweet of you guys," Mercedes said but I have my ideas of who I think deserves to stay in the game. I think the exemption should go to Blaine." Blaine looked at her, stunned. Santana narrowed her eyes.

"You are aware that passing up an exemption when everyone else, including me, is willing to give it to you, makes you look like the mole, right?" She didn't give her a chance to reply. "The only reason anyone would pass up an exemption at this stage in the game would be because they don't need one," she added. "And the only person who doesn't need one is the mole." She watched the other girl for a long moment. Mercedes had just climbed up Santana's suspect list. She would be watching her careful over the next couple days.

Kurt drew a breath. "She has a point Mercedes," he replied. "If I didn't agree with Blaine that it was only fair to give the exemption to someone who hasn't had one yet, I'd vote for myself. I haven't had an exemption since the first execution and I'm lucky to still be here. It wasn't as important when there were ten of us."

Santana nodded. "Likewise Porcelain. If I wasn't actually interested in being fair, I'd vote for myself too."

Will was looking at his watch. "Need decision in five minutes guys," he said.

"So, you're all voting for me?" Mercedes asked. The other four nodded. "Okay than, I guess I can vote for myself."

"Have you made a decision?" Will asked. They nodded.

"We all think the exemption should go to Mercedes because she's the only one of us who hasn't had one yet," Blaine said. Will looked at the other players who all nodded their agreement.

"Very well," he said. "Mercedes, you've earned an exemption and cannot be executed tomorrow night." There was slight applause around the table and Will got up, picking the red chili pepper out of the bowl and surprising them all when he took a bite of it. "If you'll all follow me then."

The players glanced at each other before getting up from the table and following Will. He lead them into a hall where there was a table on which sat bowls of six different types of chilies. Also on the table was a clear box with six slots on one side and six slots on the other. One side had the six slots labeled with numbers one through six. A chili sat in each of the numbered slots. On the other side, there were little sliding panels closing the entrance to the slots and each had a name on them. A closer look revealed that a mouse inhabited each of the slots. To one side of the box stood a pitcher and a glass.

Will took his place behind the table and indicated for the players to file in front of him.

"Here we have six different types of chili pepper," he started. "They range from mild to flaming hot. Six is the mildest of them. One is the hottest and the others fall in between, each number hotter than the one before it." He pointed to the mice. "It's up to these little guys which chili pepper you have to eat."

"Ohhhh," the all stated.

"I can't stand spicy food," Mercedes said with a frown.

"Me either," Kurt replied. "It actually kind of makes me sick. I might be okay with a mild one but anything more than that...you guys don't want to know."

"Here's the deal," Will said, nodding to the players. "When it's your turn, you will select your mouse. Spooky, Inky, Ghost, Whiskers, Moe, or Teeny." He indicated each mouse as he said its name. "Whatever chili pepper your mouse runs to, is the one you have to eat. For every chili consumed completely, I'll give you a thousand dollars. This pitcher is full of milk. If you decide you need a drink of milk, you can have one but it will cost you, one thousand dollars to be exact." Now the understood the whole milk discussion. "Santana, you're first."

The Latina studied the mice carefully, thinking thoughtfully. "I'll take Ghost," she said. Will nodded and raised the panel of the third slot from the left. The little mouse scampered out of its slot and across the box, where it seemed to have a split second of indecision before wandering into slot number three.

"Three. That is the third hottest chili," Will said.

Santana took a breath and selected the chili from its bowl, choosing a smaller one to be on the safe side. Instinctively, she brought it to her mouth and took a bite. Her face scrunched up at the burn but only for a moment before she regained her composer, chewing the chili and swallowing it down. She opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out to show that she had indeed completely consumed the chili.

"Well done Santana, a thousand dollars will be added to the pot, making the total winnings for the day so far six thousand because of the five thousand for giving Mercedes the exemption. You want to buy a drink of milk?" She shook her head. "Very well, Finn, your turn."

Finn seemed to study the mice for a moment before pointing to one. "I'll go with Moe," he said. Will opened the panel for the mouse and it scampered out into the box, wandering straight into slot number six.

"Six. Congratulations Finn, you get the mildest chili."

Finn carefully selected one from the bowl and without hesitation shoved the entire chili in his mouth. He didn't even flinch in the slightest though that may have been due to the fact that it was a very mild chili. After a few moments, he opened his mouth to show it empty and clean of chili.

"Another thousand dollars added to the pot. Milk?" Will offered. Finn declined and Will looked to Mercedes. "You are next my dear."

"Teeny," she said quickly, hoping that the fact that the mouse was on the end of the number six slot would guide it to go directly into number six and she wouldn't have to eat anything too hot.

Will slid open the panel and for a moment it seemed that Teeny was going to grant her wish. But at the last second, the mouse scampered over two slots and slid into number four. Mercedes groaned.

"If you don't eat that chili," Santana said, "It will make you look even more like the mole." Mercedes threw her a look before reluctantly plucking the chili up and holding it to her mouth. She stood there like that for several moments before lowering her hand again.

"I'm sorry, I just can't. I know it's one of the three milder ones but I just can't. I won't even eat salsa unless it's mild. I just can't handle the burn. And I'm not going to eat it and then pay a thousand dollars for a drink of milk because then it would cancel out my winnings and I would have eaten it for nothing." She placed the chili back in its bowl. "I'm, I can't eat it."

"Very well Mercedes," Will said.

Santana was glowering at her. It was like her revelation didn't mean anything to Mercedes. That kind of contradicted Santana's thoughts. She had told Mercedes if she didn't eat it, she'd label herself as the mole even more and Mercedes had still opted out of eating the chili. That could mean that she wasn't the mole but wanted Santana to think she was so that she would vote for her in the quiz and ultimately get herself executed because she was wrong. But then, that would be a good tactic for the mole to play off, pretend not to be the mole by making think you were the mole, only to have them contradict themselves by your actions so that they would answer the questions in favor of someone else being the mole and still end up executed. "Very clever," she whispered, staring at Mercedes. Regardless of things, she had just climbed into Santana's top two but she still held someone else at number one.

"Blaine," Will said, pulling Santana out of her musing. "You're up."

"I'll take Inky," he said after a moment. Will slid open the panel and the mouse wasted no time scampering across the box into slot number two.

"Two. That is the second hottest chili Blaine. You think you can handle it?" Will said. Blaine picked up the chili, a decent sized one. He studied it for a moment.

"Only one way to find out," the man said. Kurt's eyes went wide as Blaine took a bite out of the chili. He could see his eyes start to water and a grimace crossed Blaine's face. But he kept right on chewing. It seemed to be an agonizingly long time before he opened his mouth to reveal all traces of chili to be gone. He wiped a thumb across his eyes, squeezing them shut tight for a moment.

"You okay Blaine?" Will asked. He nodded.

"I'm fine. That was really strong though." For a moment he glanced toward the pitcher of milk before deciding that he would stick it out without the milk.

"Another thousand dollars had been added." Will finally glanced to Kurt on the end. "Last but not least."

"Whiskers," Kurt said immediately, mainly because it was the mouse that was farthest from slot number one and he wanted to make sure he got the mildest chili he could get, especially if it turned out the mouse did what Blaine's had and scampered to the slot straight across. He wouldn't have been safe choosing Spooky.

But luck was not on his side and Whiskers seemed to have no sense of direction. The mouse wandered around the box in circles before it scampered far over and right into slot number one.

Kurt visibly paled, which was saying something, considering his skin was naturally pale to begin with. He shook his head frantically.

"I can't eat that, it will make me sick. My stomach doesn't take to spicy stuff too well," he said. He was shaking slightly and Blaine gave him a look of concern.

"Kurt," the curly-haired man said gently, placing his hands on Kurt's shoulders. "You don't have to eat it. If it won't agree with your stomach, no one is going to make you."

Kurt shook his head. "I have to eat it Blaine," he said several moments later. "Just because I say it will make me sick of I eat it, doesn't mean people are going to believe me." Kurt knew full well that some players might see this as the mole putting on an act to cover up for genuine sabotage. "I can't make people thinking I'm lying about something that is true. You can ask my dad."

Blaine stared at him for several moments. "Kurt, I believe that it will make you sick, but are you really willing to risk your health to keep others from thinking you're the mole?" he asked.

Kurt was silent. His body was shaking and he was only hoping that no one thought this was an act. The issue was that despite his success in the fashion world, those who were familiar with him, knew that acting and musicals were his first love. There was no doubt that he could pull off the chili making him sick successfully and convincingly.

Biting his lip he looked up at Will. "I can't eat it. You guys can believe what you want but I'm dead serious when I say that it will make me sick," he said.

"Weak stomach Porcelain?" Santana said with a smirk.

"Lay off him Satan!" Blaine snapped. 

"That's right hobbit," she replied, sneering at Blaine. "Defend your boy toy even though we all know he's your prime suspect. Kind of odd if you ask me. The only reason I can think of for you to believe him when he's your number one is because you care more about your romantic life with him than whether or not he's the mole!"

Blaine visibly flushed. Kurt went pale again and his grip on Blaine's arms tightened for a moment before he released them altogether.

"I'm sorry I can't do this," he stated before turning and quickly walking out of the room. Blaine wasted no time in running after him.

All this drama is driving me crazy but it works, thought the mole.

"Well," Will said hesitantly to the other three. "You've managed to successfully bank eight thousand dollars, bringing the group total to one hundred and sixty-one thousand dollars. Enjoy the rest of your day and I will see you all later."

The rest of the group awkwardly dispersed, each of them left with their own thoughts. Tensions were running high.

After that fiasco, I have an idea who needs to go, the mole thought.