Question: I recall just one case of its kind. In my first year out of high school in college, I didn't quite get along with one vocal pipsqueak of a guy. Mid-year one afternoon post-dismissal, a small white car drove past dangerously close to me and honked as I made my way to the bus stand home. If there had actually been any malice intended, I would have been caught out totally by surprise. The next day, he wondered aloud why I did not respond or react to him flippantly wanting to ram me with his car as he drove by. To think of it, I had already taken a swipe at another guy whom I suspected of being behind the wheel less than an hour earlier. Professing some half-hearted disinterest, I thought and felt to myself that this episode wasn't over - yet. Fast forward some 4560 days later, this guy is suddenly absent from college for almost a week. Successive class lecturers note that it is not like him to skip classes without a valid reason. Late on the second day of absence, another lecturer asks our class about him. "His car crashed.", I state almost flippantly, with a weak spirit of retribution shining inside my gut. But as you would realize from answering this question it later turned out to be true. While driving at quite a clip near his home, he had barreled through a residential cross-junction and broadsided a delivery van that had charged through the open junction with no regulating traffic lights. The van ended up upside down on the road shoulder and his parents-issued car was out of commission for like, three weeks. He suffered a concussion and a shattered nasal septum from the impact and police issued the van driver a ticket for dangerous driving. Basically, he had joked about striking me with his car hit-and-run and I had later joked to that lecturer and the class that he had crashed his car - and it turned out I was right. Question: What is narrator's major? === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- Psychology
- Math
- Criminal Justice
- not enough information
Answer: not enough information

Question: Kadin loved the desert. Many creatures lived in the desert. Some learned to survive within her harsh burning grip. Some even learned to thrive in her, building stone monuments to themselves and living their lives surrounded in the lavish luxuries of Gods. How puny their monuments were compared to the desert herself. Where they had castles surrounded by dry moats, the desert had mountains surrounded by thousand year sandstorms. Where they had silks and the most beautiful slaves serving their every greatest desire, she had dunes that stretched for a thousand leagues and a sun that burned huge and deep crimson in the violet sky. Where desert kings, the Danken, dined on the finest food and drank the finest wine, the desert drank every drop of water from the air itself and feasted on men. Kadin knew the desert. He knew her voice whispering in the dark of night like a dangerous lover. The sound he heard now was not her voice but a cry from one trapped within the desert's teeth. It was the cry of a woman. Kadin rose from his makeshift bed in the dip of two dunes. He stood quickly, tying the leather straps of his knife belt around his waist. He pulled on his boots and silently mounted White Ash. THe mare felt his soft touch and made no sound. Kadin listened and heard the cry again. He studied the dunes in the darkness of night. THe blood moon painted the desert a deep red. He felt the echos and turned White Ash towards their origin. He rode quietly into the night. Kadin saw the glow of torchlight long before cresting the hill. He guessed four riders from the sound of their horses and confirmed it when he rose above them. Three men, now on foot, chased a woman in black across the dune. Their horses stood back, panting from a hard ride. The woman's own stallion lay dead, a black arrow buried in its flank. Question: How does Kadin probably feel about the works of the desert kings? === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- He admires them greatly.
- He fears they will overwhelm the desert.
- not enough information
- He thinks they are insignificant.
Answer: He thinks they are insignificant.

Question: The nice thing about a city like Vegas was that when a man walked into a drug store covered in blood and reeking of sweaty dog, it was business as usual. I stepped up to the counter and threw down the bandages, handi-wipes, some sports drinks, and three pounds of beef jerky. Some girl with green hair and a pierced head was behind me chatting on her cell phone about flying out to Amsterdam to catch a P show at the end of the month. It took all I had not to turn around and strangle the life out of the waifish little nit. "--means Power. Fargo18 said it's a reference to Damon's first girlfriend, but he's full of shit. Paula was his sister, not his girlfriend. Hey, did you know their guitar player is related to a serial killer? That's so hot. I hear--" I leaned in close toward the cashier. "Can you ring this shit up a little faster?" As I walked out to the Jeep with my booty in hand, Cerberus sat in the passenger seat and casually watched me approach. In the few hours I've been with the dog, it never once threatened me. But its mindless stare made my skin crawl. And I was going to have to put the top up soon. This dog was far from predictable and the last thing I needed was him jumping out and running off with someone's kid. I would probably have to put the chain back on him. I threw the beef jerky at Cerberus' feet then spent the next fifteen minutes doctoring myself. I was going to have a nasty scar over my left eye to match the one on my right temple. After I put on a clean t-shirt I threw back the sports drink and waited a few minutes for the electrolytes to kick in. While I waited, I punched Mr. Benoit's address into my GPS system. A little dot began to flash on the screen. Question: When did the narrator put on their bandages? === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- After they get to Mr. Benoit's house.
- After giving beef jerky to Cerberus.
- not enough information
- Before going into the store.
Answer:
After giving beef jerky to Cerberus.