Q: 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: Why did she think Nick was crazy? Answer:

OPTIONS:
- Because he fast forwarded the movie.
- not enough information
- Because he thought she could give a professional opinion.
- He showed her a blank screen and insisted he was acting in the scene.

A: He showed her a blank screen and insisted he was acting in the scene.

Q: Read the following context and answer the question. Context: My first memory of cooking was with my grandmother, Rosemary, in Sydney. She taught me how to make scrambled eggs on her electric stovetop, the kind with the coiled heating elements, in her small, linoleum-lined kitchen with cupboards that stuck a little when they closed. She was not an exceptional cook I can remember plenty of bland and overcooked vegetables and custard made with powder to pour into pre-bought pie cases with tinned pineapple, her specialty but she worked hard to put a balanced, home-cooked meal on the table three times a day, every day. The eldest of eight children, she dropped out of school during the Depression to help her single mother look after her siblings and work as a seamstress at David Jones. When the Second World War broke out and she was engaged to my grandfather, Aubrey, she started working on war-torn planes ("sometimes looking as if a steam roller has gone over them," she said) as a sheet metal worker, putting them back together, when many of the men who used to do this work were off fighting the war. She said it was just like dressmaking, only using different materials. She had a twinkle in her eye and a distinct laugh that can really only be described as a cackle. She was a strong, incredibly smart woman with a fighter spirit who led her female co-workers out on the airport tarmac one day on a strike to earn equal wages to men. I am so proud that her story is taught as part of the Australian primary school curriculum. Her dream was to have a home with that electric stove. In 1943 when she was 28 she was interviewed for Australian Women's Weekly magazine for an article on women in men's jobs during the war, where there is a photo of her that is etched in my memory, dressed in white, wearing a white bandana tied in a knot at the top of her dark curls, a plane behind her. Question: Rosemary's job fixing war-torn planes probably lasted: Answer:

OPTIONS:
- until the war was over
- until the war started
- until the end of the century
- not enough information

A: until the war was over

Q: Read the following context and answer the question. Context: When a friend tells you she has wild roses blooming everywhere, it's not hard to imagine where the conversation headed to next to turning them into rose petal jam, of course. My friend Simona Quirini and her family run the beautiful Canto del Maggio, a B&B, restaurant and garden, about one hour's drive from Florence. We arrived to catch Simona with a wooden crate in her hands, already half full of blush pink flower heads, small and as fragrant as honey. It wasn't just roses that were bursting out of their bushes with colour and fragrance. In fact, every time I go to Canto del Maggio, I notice how lush the property is with fruit, flowers and plants, and every season there are bounties to be collected. The first time I was there I noticed the myrtle bushes and heirloom fruit trees little tiny, red pears and apples. The garden was full of summer produce and I stole green-skinned figs harbouring raspberry-red flesh off the trees. The next time I went, we picked ripe olives off the trees around the pool and took them down to the local frantoio, olive oil mill, to press the bright green oil out of them. I also came home with buckets of corbezzoli, or Irish strawberries, to make jam. This spring, I noticed the hedge rows of flowering wild strawberries and this last visit we picked the berries off them for an afternoon snack. With the help of my daughter (who was slightly more interested in playing with Simona's new puppy), we filled a crateful of roses and picked the petals delicately off and into bowls. We were using the rose petal jam recipe and the technique I learned between two wonderful sources Pellegrino Artusi's 1891 cookbook (this pastry recipe below is also inspired by it) and the Armenian monks on Venice's Isola di San Lazzaro Island where I worked for two autumns. The secret, other than having beautiful, small and fragrant roses to begin with, is in massaging the petals with a bit of the sugar and the lemon juice until almost a pulp to release the essential oils. Question: How did the narrator make rose petal jam? Answer:

OPTIONS:
- Releasing essential oils
- Massaging the petals with a bit of sugar
- Filling the crate with raw strawberries
- not enough information

A:
Massaging the petals with a bit of sugar