Write the right answer to the question based on the context passage.

Paul Reynolds crisscrossed his sketchbook with furious strokes, filling the pages with images of the vengeance he would take on his former coworkers at Fear and Loading Games. He'd founded the company three years back and, just a few hours ago, his partners and erstwhile friends had fired him without cause or warning. He concentrated hard as his pen brought to life demonic figures from one of the best-selling comics he'd created, scythe wielding cyber-men called Myrmidons who tore into surprised computer programmers with fangs and claws. Elsewhere on the page, computers assembled themselves into 21st century Golems, rising up against traitorous CEO's and producers to crush them to bloody pulp as they cowered beneath their desks. Sitting at the bar in Senor Goldstein's Mexican Restaurant in San Jose, California, Paul's own artwork engaged him for the first time in months, maybe years. Under other circumstances, that would have made him happy. But today's circumstances allowed only two emotions: despair and a burning desire for revenge. Not wanting to succumb to the former, and not quite wanting to find a gun and go back to the office, he instead drew.
He had turned to a fresh page and begun to sketch his most elaborate revenge-scheme yet when a woman walked into his line of vision. There were four or five other women in the restaurant already (most of them employees), but this one stood out. This one would've stood out anywhere. Her hair, cut short and spiky, was dyed a magenta so bright it nearly glowed. She wore a tight black t-shirt, baggy olive drab shorts that hung on shapely hips, and heavy black boots with two inch thick soles. She had a faded black messenger bag slung across her chest, the strap pressing between her breasts. If Paul had to guess, she wasn't wearing a bra. She definitely wasn't your average Silicon Valley techie on an early lunch break, and certainly not a restaurant employee. Question: Who had short magenta hair?
The woman in the restaurant

"They've got cameras everywhere, man. Not just in supermarkets and departments stores, they're also on your cell phones and your computers at home. And they never turn off. You think they do, but they don't. "They're always on, always watching you, sending them a continuous feed of your every move over satellite broadband connection. "They watch you fuck, they watch you shit, they watch when you pick your nose at the stop light or when you chew out the clerk at 7-11 over nothing or when you walk past the lady collecting for the women's shelter and you don't put anything in her jar. "They're even watching us right now," the hobo added and extended a grimy, gnarled digit to the small black orbs mounted at either end of the train car. There were some days when I loved taking public transportation, and other days when I didn't. On a good day, I liked to sit back and watch the show, study the rest of the passengers, read into their little ticks and mannerisms and body language, and try to guess at their back stories, giving them names and identities in my head. It was fun in a voyeuristic kind of way. And luckily, today was a good day. I watched the old Vietnamese woman with the cluster of plastic shopping bags gripped tightly in her hand like a cloud of tiny white bubbles. My eyes traced the deep lines grooving her face, and I wondered about the life that led her to this place. I watched the lonely businessman staring longingly across the aisle at the beautiful Mexican girl in the tight jeans standing with her back to him. He fidgeted with the gold band on his finger, and I couldn't tell if he was using it to remind himself of his commitment or if he was debating whether he should slyly slip it off and talk to her. Question: Who fidgeted with his wedding ring?
the businessman

My best story is about Santa Claus. A mall Santa had a heart attack at work and was rushed to the Emergency Room in full cardiac arrest.
Let me explain that a person playing Santa is generally a certain age (white beard) and body type (round) that is predisposed to cardiac disease.
We did everything we could but ultimately our efforts were futile. The mall Santa rode his sleigh into the great beyond.
A mother, there to visit another patient, was insistent that her 78 year old son be allowed back to visit his grandmother. We had a strict 12 year old age limit visitation policy. I was called to speak with her.
"Why do you have such a stupid Draconian policy?" She insisted.
"The Emergency Room is no place for a child ma'am. Besides, the germs and infections he may be exposed to, there are things he may see or hear that a child would have a hard time processing," I explained.
"Like what?" She argued.
"Well, there are people in pain moaning," I answered. "And drunks cursing at the staff. It's a tough place."
"He's fine," she insisted. "I think I know how to parent. I don't need you to worry about what my son is able to handle."
I caved in and allowed her back. As we passed the room with the dead Santa, a tech exited and opened the curtain. Her child looked in and saw Santa's lifeless body, ET tube sticking out of his throat, boots still on but costume cut to shreds and strewn across the room.
The child lost it!
"Mom, Santa Claus is Dead!" He cried. "I'm not going to get anything for Christmas."
"Why would someone open the curtain?" The mother demanded.
"I warned you," I said. "That's why we have a 12 years and above visitation policy."
She was not happy. Come to find out the child had his picture made with that very Santa a few days prior. Very ironic. Question: Who did everything they could to save Santa?
The ER worker