Read the following context and choose the correct option to answer the question. Context: Macy Golong peeked into Mallie Mae's room and was not surprised to see her sleeping. Elmo's mother rarely stayed up past 10:00 PM, and it was nearly 11:00. She closed the door and started to go back to her room across the hall. She was halfway through a romance novel. But Hadley's delicious oatmeal raisin cookies were calling to her. She walked down the stairs to the kitchen and put a few cookies on a plate. Then she poured a glass of milk. She wondered what Elmo was doing. Was he in the Media Room with Carsie? Their Media Room? Before Elmo and Carsie got together, Elmo and Macy used to spend hours almost every night in that room. Some nights he had almost kissed her. She left her milk and cookies on the kitchen counter and went down another flight of stairs, which came out in the Recreation Room. Macy could hear the sound of the TV coming from Media Room. She tiptoed to the open doorway and peeked in. There she was--that conniving slut--sitting where Macy should have been. How could Elmo have replaced her like that? She thought he had been falling in love with her. How could she have been so wrong? But it could still happen--if that woman would just go away. Elmo said, "Yeah. So, beginning Monday there will be two doctors in the office. That should take a little pressure off. If I need to be out for a day or two, Dr. Edwards can fill in for me." "Yeah, or if you need to take off a week for a trip to Hawaii with your beautiful new wife." Carsie gave him a sexy smile. "That's right. Dr. Ernie will take care of everything while I'm gone." "Dr. Ernie?" "Yeah. I asked if he would mind being called 'Dr. Ernie'. His name is Ernest, but I thought 'Dr. Ernie' would fit in well with the Sesame Street theme of my office." "So the two of you are Drs. Elmo and Ernie?" "Yep." Question: What did Macy think about Carsie? Options: - That she made delicious cookies. - That she was falling in love with her. - That she was a conniving, back-stabbing slut. - not enough information
That she was a conniving, back-stabbing slut.

Read the following context and choose the correct option to answer the question. Context: I'm sitting at the airport on a Sunday morning waiting for my flight to Las Vegas for the now-annual pilgrimage to the NamesCon conference. A few years ago, Vegas was one of my "bucket list" places one of those iconic cities that one should visit at least once in their life. For me, once was enough. This is now my 4th (I think?) trip to Vegas, and while the city has a lot to offer, it's just not my cup of tea. For one thing, I'm not a gambler, like at all. I don't have anything against it, I just don't enjoy it. It either feels pointless or stressful to me. The city itself makes me a little sad in some cases, it reeks of desperation. Last time I was there, my cab driver entertained me with stories of how she was working 3 jobs to save up enough to join some mega-massive bingo game. She won a small jackpot a few years back and that allowed her to work only one job for a few months. She was hoping to win again so she could cut back to 1 or 2 jobs. I wondered how many people do similar things gambling their money away, in big or small chunks, in the hopes of that big score and in the process, putting themselves in a not-great financial situation. I suppose as long it makes them happy, then it's all OK, but I can't help but think someone like my cab driver might be happier overall if she only worked 1 job instead of 3, instead of working extra jobs to save up money to gamble her way to financial freedom. But that's for her to decide, not me. The juxtaposition of extreme and in-your-face wealth and the homeless people on the Strip also makes me sad. It's difficult to see people begging for food and sleeping on the street while all around you, millions of dollars are poured into creating a massive playground with every type of indulgence possible. But I'm the first to say that I've enjoyed staying in some of the nicer hotel properties there and eating several excellent meals at some of the finer restaurants in the area, so I'm not exactly helping to solve the problem. Question: After the end of the story, the author probably feels: Options: - not enough information - happy to be home - excited to go back to Vegas soon - hungry
happy to be home

Read the following context and choose the correct option to answer the question. Context: That day, my mother picked me up from school, wearing the yellow sundress and shawl I remembered from our trip with Father the year before. She looked just like she did most days back then--a glamour queen, a movie star ("Just like Lena Horne," my friend Chloe had once said, "only darker--oh, sorry, Leah!"), but today her beauty somehow had a harder, more defiant edge to it. I could smell the expensive Dior perfume as soon as I opened the door, which surprised me, because my mom was usually fastidious about not getting perfume on her clothes. She was wearing her bug glasses--huge dark things with lenses that bulged out like fly eyes and reflected my face like a fun-house mirror. She had tied a yellow silk scarf around her hair and was taking deep pulls on a cigarette held between two immaculately manicured fingers. Only I knew about the nicotine stains she carefully covered with her special order "forest sable" cream each morning. Tiffany, a stupid but vicious senator's daughter who I had the misfortune of sharing a classroom with, suddenly dashed from inside the school, her face flushed. "Hello, Mrs. Wilson," she called. Before my mother could respond, she giggled and ran back to three of her friends waiting beyond the door. I could hear them laughing, but I was glad I couldn't understand their words. They were all fascinated with my mother--the black housekeeper who dressed like Katharine Hepburn and drove a Cadillac, whose daughter's "light toffee" skin indicated that she might just like her coffee with a lot of cream. Sometimes I hated those girls. "Get in the car, Leah," my mother said. Her already husky voice was pitched low, as though she'd been crying. That made me nervous. Why was she here? "Ma, Chloe was going to show me her dad's new camera. Can't I go home on the bus?" My mom pulled on the cigarette until it burned the filter, and then ground it into the car ashtray--already filled with forty or so butts. She always emptied out the ashtray each evening. Question: How many cigarettes were in the ashtray? Options: - not enough information - 40 - 42 - 39
not enough information