NOT A PROBLEM: Person A: I was really surprised to learn that your mum used to live in Wales. Person B: My mum? No, she never did that. You must be thinking of someone else. Person A: No, I'm not. I told her how my parents are from Cardiff and she said she'd lived in Newport until she was 18. Person B: She did not. Person A: Yes, she did. Person B: Nope. She'd have told me. Person A: Well, where do you think she grew up, then? Person B: In Yorkshire, of course. Like the rest of us. Person A: You're wrong, you know. Person B: Bet I'm not. Person A: OK, well, I'm going to phone her and ask her. You'll see. PROBLEM: Person C: You still have my Kindle. Person D: I do not. I gave it back to you two weeks ago. Person C: No, you didn't. You said you were going to, but you never actually gave it to me. Person D: I did. I remember. It was when we were having lunch in Starbucks. Person C: No, that's when you said you'd left it in your car and would get it when we'd finished eating but then you forgot all about it. Person D: Look, I gave it back to you. I think you're just trying to get a new Kindle out of me, and let me tell you: it ain't gonna work. Person C: You're just trying to keep my Kindle for yourself. Well, I'm not going to let you get away with it. I'm going to tell your mum, so there. It really depends whether the parents are in a position to shed any light on the contentious issue or if involving them would just make an awkward situation worse. If parental input will be helpful, welcome the chance to confer with them; if it won't, let the other person do what they will and trust your parents to have more sense than to get involved in a purely private argument. After the story ends Person D probably A. not enough information B. Puts the kindle in their car. C. Calls their mum to warn her about Person C calling D. Has lunch at Starbucks with mum
C

(Question)
Alona's persistent knocking at the door of room 412 went unanswered for three minutes as she nervously shuffled her feet. Her book bag was super-saturated with textbooks, notebooks, schedules, rough drafts, and various other forms of academic paraphernalia. It was getting heavier. She continued to knock, even though there had as yet been no answer, because the note card tacked to the right of the door indicated that these indeed were Prof. Turgy K. Sigger's office hours. She could see the light under the door and thought she had heard a groan. Just before she decided to give up, slow feet approached from the opposite side, then silence; with a dramatic turn of the knob, the door swung open. "Was this trip really necessary?" asked Prof. Sigger, blinking and brushing his oily, graying hair back into place. "These are your office hours," Alona replied. She nervously smiled, feeling the corners of her mouth twitch. Somewhere in the darkened hall, a janitor coughed. "All right," conceded Prof. Sigger. "Come in." The carpet was smothered by leaning towers of textbooks. Papers lined the left side of the desk, above which was a small note card which read "To Be Graded." On the right side, the oak finish gleamed of the mid-morning light piercing the Venetian blinds. "You've come about your final project," Prof. Sigger stated. "It's only mid-term," Alona reminded him. "Oh yes, yes," continued Prof. Sigger, without conscious embarrassment. "Mid-term grade. I think I have it here. Somewhere." His hands disappeared into the left side of his desk. "You told the class that we would get a C if we maintained that Coca-Cola isn't a crypto-fascist conspiracy." "Oh yes," said Prof. Sigger. "We were discussing social issues, as I remember. I was quoting Marx and some little idiot brought up Rush Limbaugh." "That was me," Alona muttered. Prof. Sigger's office hours probably last how long before school starts? A. a couple of hours B. 3 minutes C. not enough information D. less than 10 minutes
(Answer)
A

I have been the brunt of cruelty from a doctor a number of times but I will relate one that has always stayed with me since I was a child. I was approximately 8 years and it happened to be summer. Baseball was a true love and my brothers and friends played daily. In the summer, all we wore were cut off jeans and nothing else. I had stepped on a rusty nail and it became infected. Time for a Tetanus shot! This was a typical occurrence for us during the summer. There was only one doctor within a one hundred square mile area and his name was Doctor Brandenbury. He was a very unpleasant, elderly man that my brothers and I did not care for since he was just a mean, old bastard. So I am shuffled off to his office and of course after hearing what had a occurred and examining my foot agreed I needed the Tetanus shot. I make a very innocent request as he is about to give me the shot. Since I knew the shot would stiffen my arm and essentially cause pain I would take it in my left arm so my throwing arm would not be affected. I tried to request this from the doctor but he did not wish to hear anything from me. He said "I don't give a fuck what arm you get it in." He grabbed me roughly by the right arm and used the needle like a dart and just slammed it into my arm. I had never had a problem with shots before but that REALLY hurt. I started crying. He instructed my mother "To get me the Hell out of his office." Needless to say my mother never took any of us to see this old, miserable bastard again. She found another doctor that actually treated us like we were human. what's probably true about Doctor Brandenbury? A. he is lonely B. he loves everyone C. not enough information D. he loves life
A