Question: Read the following context and answer the question. Context: It was a nice summer evening. A cool breeze blowing. Birds singing. Leaves rustling. The waters of the pool shining, shimmering in the sunlight. I was sitting on the steps of the pool, my legs submerged in water.Those blue depths were irrestisible. I inched a bit further in. Water to my waist a little more. closer to the blue..just a little morewater to my chest yes, keep goinga bit morewater to my neck.almost there.the blue gaze of those depths held me in aweoh my..so beaut- Going up a sort of endless escalator. I can't see very well what's in front of me. It's all very dark. I can sense someone behind me, but I dare not look back. For some reason I cannot see my feet. In fact, I cannot see any of me at all. It feels very strange and well,creepy! I want to whistle, to kinda comfort myself, but it feels like I've lost the ability to speak. My mind just doesn't know how to carry out this desire to speak. It feels unnatural.. That someone behind me pokes me in my(invisible) back. Its'(his/her?) touch is strangely warm, then icy. I still don't look back.yes, that's the key, don't look back. It's a test. Just don't look back and you'll- Snap! Back into the pool, panting. Everything is blurry. There are people gathered around the pool, screaming. A hand extends toward me. I reach for it. Well, I'd love to tell you what happened after that, but the thing is, I don't even know myself. For just at that precise moment, my wretched alarm decided to beep-beep. And I never got to see the ending! Wait, did you mean "went to the other side" in reality? Don't be ridiculous! Question: What color was their swimsuit in the dreaaaaaa/ Answer:
OPTIONS:
- green
- blue
- not enough information
- red
Answer: not enough information

input with options: Read the following context and answer the question. Context: The sound of the clacking grew unbearable, so we turned the volume down. "Mute it." We muted it. "Turn it up; we might miss something." It's a silent movie. We won't miss anything. The sound of clacking gradually fills the room as my brother reluctantly turns up the volume. I can tell he's pressing hard on the button, jamming his thumb down in defiance or muted anger. He doesn't like for anyone to tell him what to do with the remote. But my grandmother wants the volume up, so we turn it up. We're all sitting along the edges of the tiny living room, staring at the fuzzy black-and-white images as they hazily walk across the television screen. I can hear a siren outside, barely discernable and then gone entirely. "Who's that?" my brother asks, evidently past his momentary and barely-noticeable indignation over the remote. "Uncle Arehl, and maybe his sister, Edna," my grandmother says, leaning in closer. "I think it's Edna," she says, in the tone of a doctor diagnosing a disease, as if the verdict was somehow relevant to someone who has only the vaguest idea who Arehl's sister is, or was. Uncle Arehl (I don't know precisely whose uncle he is, or for what the two initials of his name once stood) saunters slowly across a dry, patchy lawn, and the camera follows him. For some reason I'm more interested in the lawn--if it can be called that--than in the people on it. The sun in the movie is blazing, and everyone filmed looks only briefly at the camera before averting their faces once again to look at the stubbly grass. The camera pans once again and I can see an incredibly rutted path leading from the porch to the fence at the edge of the yard, broken pieces of concrete amid deep tire tracks fossilized in sun-baked mud. The fence is low, wire like a chain-link, but lower, with metal stakes holding it up instead of tubes. Question: Why was the narrator's brother angry? Answer:
OPTIONS:
- Because he wanted to hear the siren
- not enough information
- Because he was told to turn the volume up
- Because he hated silent movies
output: Because he was told to turn the volume up

Q: Read the following context and answer the question. Context: I had this one guy, who enjoyed being a part time bully and part time neutral to me. To say the least he was annoying. He'd take the liberty to hide my backpack, borrow my books without consent, doodle scandalous stuff on my notebooks with a pen and yada yada. So one day, I was showing this cool trick I learned on an anatomy program on the TV to a couple of classmates who used to sit around me. The thing was that you can't flex your ring finger upwards if you put your middle finger under the palm (try that) We were all kids, and soon everyone in the class started staring at us weirdos looking laughing at out hands. The bully noticed it too, and came near to inquire about this hand stuff. I described the trick and he was impressed. And then, I saw our teacher walking up the corridor, just a couple paces behind the class door. So, I asked him (the bully) if he wanted to see another trick and to that he nodded a big yes. Cool, What I did was, that I grabbed his right arm by the thumb and put it on my throat right above the larynx. Then I quickly shifted my grip to his wrist. He without batting an eye, asked what I was doing, but then I started beating the desk with my other hand and made squeaking noises while pushing his hand against my throat harder with every turning head. And voila! Every one in the class (including the teacher) thought he was smothering me. After a few ifs and buts between him and the teacher, he was summoned at the principal's chambers, from where, later he was sent home, where presumably judging from the look on his face for the next few days, he was beat to crap by his folks. And after that, never was I ever bothered by anyone in the school.(^^) Question: At the end, the story ended by: Answer:

OPTIONS:
- Tricked him to get sent home
- Gave him a present
- not enough information
- Gave him the answers to a test

A:
Tricked him to get sent home