input: OPTIONS:
- She was suspicious about his ex-wife
- not enough information
- Dingo wouldn't marry her
- Dingo's box was missing Now, answer this question: As Julie kept asking question after question, all I could think of was how desperately I needed a normal, healthy relationship. As far as most of my relationships went, mine with Julie was great. But it was great in all the wrong places. There really wasn't much more to it than sex. Even though it was a mind-numbing, bathe-in-gasoline-to-slough-the-shame-from-my-soul kind of sex, it didn't matter. At the end of the day we were just objects to each other. We couldn't talk about anything else. We'd tried before, but it had usually led to an afternoon of power-fucking in every changing room on Rodeo Drive. It was a fun ride, but nothing more. And like every great ride, Julie was beautiful, fast, and could turn on a dime in the blink of an eye. "I don't understand, Dingo." I couldn't tell if it was the 12 stitches over my eye giving me the headache or Julie's prattling. I bit off a stretch of red tape and put it over the empty socket where my taillight should have been while I balanced the phone between my shoulder and swollen cheek. "Julie, I told you. Darby took the box." "I get that, but--." "The box my dad hand-carved just before he died." I could feel the two edges of skin stitched together pull at each other every time my jaw moved. "Yes, yes, and the box protects your family's dirty little secret or your mother's pride and joy or whatever the hell it is you're calling it this week." "Hey, I told you not to go digging--. " "I don't care what it is, Dingo! I couldn't give a shit about that damn box or what's inside. The only thing I want to know is what the fuck your ex-wife was doing there." So there it was. And I thought she was jealous just because somebody else got to beat the living crap out of me for a change. "Julie, I didn't even know she was in town until after I was in the hospital." Question: Why was Julie probbaly angry? === The answer to the above question is
A:
output: She was suspicious about his ex-wife

Jimbob Blakey wasn't so much given birth to as clambered right out of his mother himself. He weighed in at almost thirteen pounds, came ready-fitted with a shock of fat black hair and a couple of razor teeth. Jimbob's folks loved him like most folks love their little ones, maybe more. They'd been trying so hard for a child, suffered more mid-term miscarriages than the ewes they shuttled off to market most Thursdays. They dressed him in a one-year babygro and took him home to their hill farm. They fought to get up nights and give him his milk. His teeth made breast-feeding impossible. They sat hours gazing down in his cot. They dressed him fine and took him to their church and gave their thanks. Showed him off like the proud parents they were. Others cooed and smiled. But they never asked to hold. They gave thanks the Blakeys were happy, and that the monkey-baby had not been born to them. Jimbob's folks never gave a second thought that their boy might be different. The first Spring he walked, he stomped the moors in his welly-boots helping herd the pregnant ewes down in-by. He copied his father, kicking and cuffing at the stragglers, when the flock was returned to the hills in May. As Jimbob grew, his hair became thicker, his arms longer. His head shrunk down on his shoulders. At check-ups, nurses fixed smiles and pronounced him healthy. Doctors said, 'he'll make you a strapping lad.' His mother smiled, her heart swelled. When he was three, she sent him to nursery. She wanted him to mix with other kids. To taste life off the hard hills. She said, 'it'll do him the world of good.' Jimbob hated leaving the farm. He clung to his mother. She drove away, blinking tears. On the third day, she took a phone call. 'It's Jimbob,' they said. 'He's scaring the other kids.'The truth hit Jimbob's mother like a hammer. Question: what is probably true about jimbob? === The answer to the above question is

OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- they adopted a monkey
- he was not really his parents child
- he was different

Answer: he was different

"Because all of you of Earth are idiots!" shouted Tom, wearily wiping the glass counter, removing coconut oil from the reflections of overpriced candy bars. Inside the theater the movie echoed him: "Because all of you of Earth are idiots!" Tom sighed, not for the first time that evening. The Manager, who paid in cash every Sunday, had decided to take advantage of the bizarre tastes of his Generation X clients and offer an Ed Wood film festival. Bride of the Monster, Plan 9 From Outer Space, and Night of the Ghouls ran on the second, smaller screen on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, two bucks a head. The Manager was making a killing. Tom, who needed the job in order to move out of his parents' trailer home, found little about the Ed Wood canon amusing, although it was light-years beyond anything by Coleman Francis. Even so, Tom had been forced to hear the dialog of each film, on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday... He only had to watch them once, having filled in for the Manager's weasel-featured nephew/projectionist Neoldner, who had called in sick to buy grass in Beloit. But he would have been able to forget the experience had it not been for the penetrating soundtrack which bled into the lobby. The ordeal, for tonight, was almost over - the concession stand closed after Plan 9. He hoped he had sold enough to keep his job - there was the worry that the Manager would increase his profit margin by manning the concession stand himself. But the Manager strolled out of the second theater with a broad grin, revealing his cutting overbite. "I don't know why," the Manager exclaimed, "but they love it!" "Most of them are from the 'Ed 9 Film Society,'" Tom replied. "By the way, I need to restock the chocolates." Question: That Tom's work shift had produced a === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- A great profit
- A problem with management
- not enough information
- Revelation about Tom's working habits

Answer:
A great profit