Problem: OPTIONS:
- Mrs Mc
- A writer
- Lucy Beale
- not enough information
Q: Television drama's whole point is to bring you through an often slow start, followed by a complex development to a point where there are two or three potential denouements before, "Cut!", it is the end of the episode and you will have to await the "right answer" in the following week's show. This post came to me at 10pm last night, on Day 16 of this challenge, after a day of holidaying in London and with my head (and feet) too weary to put finger to touchscreen. Mrs Mc and I had just watched another live instalment of Broadchurch, murder mystery extraordinaire, particularly since in the second series there is no actual fresh murder to investigate. The verdict is about to be given on the accused killer from Series 1 when the inevitable happens... Cue title music. This moment has even gained a moniker in British homes, based on the theme tune to the real masters of the four-times-a-week cliffhanger, London-based soap opera Eastenders. It's call a "ba...ba...ba...ba, ba, ba-ba-ba-ba" (YouTube will provide overseas readers with auditory explanation). Eastenders is such a master of writing in the perfect pace that every 28 minute episode ends with a tantalising screen freeze on the latest shocked face / smirking baddy / confused victim. For really big stories the cliffhanger can last significantly longer. This week, to celebrate the show's 30 year birthday, we will finally find out the answer to a question unanswered for the past 14 months: "Who killed Lucy Beale?" Now, most classrooms do not involve murder, incest, dodgy deals and danger, but "good teaching" encourages a type of pacing that totally ignores the ingredients that have millions in the edges of their seats every day: the good old cliffhanger. In fact, we see teachers giving away the punchline at the beginning: "Today we are learning this:..." According to the above context, answer the following question. Who watched the drama with the author?
Answer: Mrs Mc

Problem:OPTIONS:
- A month.
- More than a day.
- not enough information
- Five minutes.

My dream. I dreamt that is was living in France in the 1920. I was living my apartment, I glanced at my reflection, I was wearing a knee length pencil length green skirt, white silk blouse, green jacket to match, white wrist length gloves. On my head I wore a green felt hat, with a long green head pin, to keep the hat on my head. Green shoes and clutch to match. I was afraid, so I took a breath, opened the door, walked out and locked the door. I walked down the stairs, waved to Jean Paul the night concierge, he told me to be careful and have a goodnight, I told him I will see him later. I walked out the front door, turned left and walked down the alley to get to the boulevard. When I got half way through the alley, I heard footsteps. I began walking a little faster. Then a man called my name.. Ana, I turned and saw he had a gun. I screamed and began running. Before I got to the boulevard he shot me in the back, I fell knees first, then I tried to brace myself with my hands. But it was useless, I fell face to the ground, it was an excruciating burning pain. I began to cry, I could see my clutch not to far from me, the content from my clutch lipstick, compact and money scattered. Then I heard his footsteps, he stopped at my head, crunch down, he took his thumb and wiped my lipstick from my bottom lip. I asked him why, in a whisper, because it hurt to talk. He laughed, and said that I was a stupid girl, and that if he could not have me no one else should. He got up and walked away. He left me there dying, I felt that I could not breath and litterly jumped out of the dream. The weird part was that for several days after, I had that burning sensation in the same place I got shot. According to the above context, answer the following question. About how long did Ana's dream last?
****
A: Five minutes.

input: OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- He is hanging out with older people
- He is not paying rent
- He is doing drugs Now, answer this question: "Maybe we're being too harsh with the letter," said Janine. "Hon, as his parents we have a responsibility to his well being," said Bob. "I know but I just think he doesn't need this added pressure." "Jan, I'll be damned if I'm gonna support and house a drug addict." "I just think maybe he's going through tough times or something. He told me the other day he wanted to see a therapist." "Hmm." "Maybe there's something going on we don't understand. I mean didn't he seem a little paranoid to you today at lunch?" "Paranoia is a side-effect of the marijuana." "Well I still think we are being a little harsh, I mean, we can't just throw our son out on the street." "Babe, its our job to be harsh when it comes to this kind of stuff. It's for his own good. Either he chooses to keep living rent free in the condo without the pot or he chooses to ruin his life." "I know but don't you think we should let this little phase run its course? I mean, we're not entirely innocent ourselves. Eventually he's gonna want to stop smoking pot," "I don't know if he is, Jan. He's expressed to me several times that he has no interest in quitting." "He's said that to me too." "Well I think that's a pretty big red flag, don't you?" "Yes." "He needs to get his priorities in order and realize that drugs aren't gonna do him any good. If we have to force him to do that then that's what has to be done. I mean, tell me you haven't had any difficulty falling asleep at night with the notion that our sons are drug addicts." "Well at least Ben has a job and is paying his own rent." "I know but those people he hangs out with, Mack and Allison, those dopers that spend their time smoking weed, they...they're our age, and did you see their house, the stacks of books and newspapers and the marijuana pipes laying on the coffee table? It sickens me that there are people out there like that." According to the above context, answer the following question. Why are Bob and Jan mad at their son?
A:
output:
He is doing drugs