"Oh, God!" Pierce screamed, his arms wrapped around the trunk of the tree. "They were all right! I am to old for this! I'm going to end my twilight years being eaten by wolves!"

Pierce's feet were still firmly on the ground. He didn't have the strength to climb... unlike Dean Pelton, who was perched in a branch about ten feet up. He was panicking and bawling his eyes out, but bravely trying to push a thick branch Pierce's way. He managed to poke Pierce on the cheek.

"You can still make it!" he cried. "I'll pull you up! Just grab on to the branch!"

"I can't!" Pierce said, shaking and refusing to open his eyes. "I'm too scared!"

"Pierce, I'll have you know that you were one of the most valuable students we ever had at Greendale! If I get out of this alive, we'll erect a statue in your honor! Bigger than the one of Luis Guzman! And... and... I don't think those wolves are going to do anything."

Pierce opened his eyes. He was surrounded by the shaggy beasts... all sixteen of them. But they weren't attacking him. Some were lying down. Others were running in circles. One took a short leap at Pierce, but it was a playful one. It licked his face, to Pierce's surprise, but then sat placidly at his feet.

"I don't think these are wolves," Pierce said. He bent down and scratched the beast on the neck. He noticed that it was wearing a nice red collar. "In fact, unless I misplace my guess, these are Siberian huskies."

"Well, that's a relief," said Dean Pelton. "It's a good think I didn't have anything to drink earlier. I would've ruined a very good pair of shorts."

"Hello, boy!" Pierce said, finally at ease. "What are you doing way out here?"

That was when he heard someone out there calling out names. A very sexy, feminine voice. She appeared from the clearing, a tall, beautiful blonde in a pink halter top and tight jean shorts.

"Ah!" she said in a delightful Scandinavian accent. "I see you have found my dogs. My name is Olga," she said, introducing herself. She bent over to coo over her dog, giving Pierce a fairly good view.

"I hope they didn't bother you," she said. She eyed Pierce seductively. "I was training them for the Iditarod. I didn't expect anyone else to be out here this far in the woods. They must have given you such a fright!"

"Oh, no," said Pierce, laughing awkwardly. "If anything, they should've been more afraid of me. And the bears, of course."

"I'd like to thank you for finding them," Olga said. "They are so fast, and I was afraid I would have lost them if they broke free. I wonder, how did they come after you?"

"Oh, probably all the jerky I have in my backpack." Oops. That was a failed line. But if Pierce Hawthorne knew anything, it was how to make a recovery. "They... help keep my energy up when things get too intense."

"I see."

Please, please, please, please, thought Pierce, please give me a sign. A sign that I have a chance.

"Oh, you have gotten so dirty, Prancer," she said, regarding her beloved dog's face. "Let me clean that up for you." She opened up her knapsack and opened a package of Hawthorne Wipes. She slowly brushed the mud off the dog's face.

Bingo.

"I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself," Pierce said. "My name is Pierce Hawthorne. Former CEO of Hawthorne Wipes? I couldn't help but notice you're using one of our products."

"Really!" Olga said, amazed.

"Are you looking for a sponsorship? I mean, I am semi-retired, but I think I might know some people who still have pull in the company. Some lost-half-brother-sort-of-people..."

"You would do that for me?"

"Of course! Anything for a loyal customer. Let's discuss this over, say, dinner?"

"Certainly! My base camp is close by..."

Dean Pelton watched as Olga, Pierce, and the barking dogs walked farther and farther away.

"Pierce," called the Dean. "Pierce! I could use some help getting down! ... Anytime now! ... Marvin Team! ... Oh, you know what, Pierce? You can forget about your statue! You are getting, at best, an honorary dinner!"

The Dean sulked, leaning his back against the tree trunk. That's when he noticed that there was a tree hollow as big as his fist. It was filled with leaves and twigs. The Dean looked at his cellphone. The map indicated that he was right on top of the coordinates. He plunged his hand in the hole, clearing out the detritus.

There is was. A small black film canister. He opened up the gray lid. There were two pieces of paper inside. One featured a list of names of people who had already found this geocache. There were twenty. The other contained the pixellated black-and-white square of the QR Code.

"Oh, thank God," said the Dean, sighing. He took a picture of the code with his camera and sent the image to Abed.