Problem:OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- Schizophrenia
- Bipolar disorder
- Antisocial Personality Disorder

Read the following context and answer the question. Context: I went over to a guy's house to see a movie that he had acted in. It was our first date. He starts the movie and I settle back to watch. I was in film school and the guy, Nick, had told me he wanted my "professional" opinion. We're five minutes into the movie when Nick reaches for the remote and says, "Let's fast forward to my part." I reply that, in order to adequately critique the movie, I should see it from the beginning. Nick assures me that his scene is self-contained and needs no context. A fight scene plays. Nick pauses and asks, "What did you think?" I look confused and Nick says, "Did you miss me? Let's play it again." I watch the scene again, but still can't make out Nick. Nick rewinds, plays and pauses. "There I am," he says, gazing fondly at the screen. Except the screen was gray. No actors. No landscape. Nothing, but gray snow. "What do you think," he asked, his eyes never leaving the empty screen. At that point, I realized Nick was crazy. "That's great!," I said. "But look at the time. Time sure flies when you're having fun." Nick was still staring at the screen with a strange little smile. I stood up. Nick stood up, now not smiling. "You're not going anywhere," Nick said. It's funny how fear works. I've found that in times of danger, adrenaline supersedes fear. I managed to trick Nick, hide from Nick and finally to escape after more than an hour of suspense. Turns out it wasn't even Nick's place. He had taken me to the house of someone he had ripped off in a drug deal. I am very wary now of going to a guy's home unless I know him extremely well. Question: What is Nick's disorder? Answer:
****
A: not enough information

Read the following context and answer the question. Context: The night when she thought she would finally be a star, Maria Isabella du'l Cielo struggled to calm the trembling of her hands, reached over to cut the tether that tied her to the ground, and thought of that morning many years before when she'd first caught a glimpse of Lorenzo du Vicenzio ei Salvadore: tall, thick-browed and handsome, his eyes closed, oblivious to the cacophony of the accident waiting to occur around him. Maria Isabella had just turned sixteen then, and each set of her padrinos had given her (along with the sequined brida du caballo, the dresses of rare tulle, organza, and seda, and the diadema floral du'l dama -- the requisite floral circlet of young womanhood) a purse filled with coins to spend on anything she wanted. And so she'd gone past the Calle du Leones (where sleek cats of various pedigrees sometimes allowed themselves to be purchased, though if so, only until they tired of their new owners), walked through the Avenida du'l Conquistadores (where the statues of the conquerors of Ciudad Meiora lined the entirety of the broad promenade) and made her way to the Encantu lu Caminata (that maze-like series of interconnected streets, each leading to some wonder or marvel for sale), where little musical conch shells from the islets near Palao'an could be found. Those she liked very much. In the vicinity of the Plaza Emperyal, she saw a young man dressed in a coat embroidered with stars walk almost surely to his death. In that instant, Maria Isabella knew two things with the conviction reserved only for the very young: first, that she almost certainly loved this reckless man; and second, that if she simply stepped on a dog's tail -- the very dog watching the same scene unfold right next to her -- she could avert the man's seemingly senseless death. Question: What did Maria Isabella do with her hands at the beginning of the story? Answer:
OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- She counted coins in a purse.
- She cut a tether that tied her to the ground.
- She put them over her eyes.
She cut a tether that tied her to the ground.

Problem: OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- a few days
- a few years
- a few months
Q: Read the following context and answer the question. Context: My Pa disappeared somewhere in the wilds of 1975, when I was just fourteen years old. He was the Ambassador to 1975, but back home in 1898, in New Jerusalem, Utah, they all thought he was Ambassador to France. When he disappeared, Mama and I came back through the triple-bolted door that led from our apt in 1975 to our horsebarn in 1898. We returned to the dusty streets of New Jerusalem, and I had to keep on reminding myself that I was supposed to have been in France, and 'polly-voo' for my chums, and tell whoppers about the Eiffel Tower and the fancy bread and the snails and frogs we'd eaten. I was born in New Jerusalem, and raised there till I was ten. Then, one summer's day, my Pa sat me on his knee and told me we'd be going away for a while, that he had a new job. 'But what about the store?' I said, scandalised. My Pa's wonderful store, the only General Store in town not run by the Saints, was my second home. I'd spent my whole life crawling and then walking on the dusty wooden floors, checking stock and unpacking crates with waybills from exotic places like Salt Lake City and even San Francisco. Pa looked uncomfortable. 'Mr Johnstone is buying it.' My mouth dropped. James H Johnstone was as dandified a city-slicker as you'd ever hope to meet. He'd blown into town on the weekly Zephyr Speedball, and skinny Tommy Benson had hauled his three huge steamer trunks to the cowboy hotel. He'd tipped Tommy two dollars, in Wells-Fargo notes, and later, in the empty lot behind the smithy, all the kids in New Jerusalem had gathered 'round Tommy to goggle at the small fortune in queer, never-seen bills. 'Pa, no!' I said, without thinking. I knew that if my chums ordered their fathers around like that, they'd get a whipping, but my Pa almost never whipped me. Question: How long was Pa gone for? Answer:
Answer:
a few years