It was hot. The smell of blood already hung heavy in the air. The white sands, imported from the far west mountains of limestone, sucked up the fire of the huge red sun. It was always hot in the south desert. Even in the deep of night the stones of Gazu Kadem kept the city warm. Now, at mid-day, it was at its hottest. A quarter of a million people at the arena didn't make it any cooler. The merchants, nobles, and the slaves lucky enough to attend had waited outside Dan Trex's arena for days. They knew the value of entertainment in such a dark world. They wore cowls to protect themselves from the sun as they waited. Entire businesses thrived on the forced mercantile of the captive audience. Food went for thrice its cost to those waiting near the entrance. Water went for five times as much. The arena was as old as the city, built in the days of the old empire for a king now long forgotten. The octagonal arena was a machine, an engine that built warriors out of the raw material of flesh, blood, and steel. Now, thousands of years later, it still served that purpose. The machine had built Dan Trex's army, half a million of the most ruthless and well trained soldiers to ever walk the planet. While one hundred and fifty thousand civilians and slaves got drunk, gambled, shat, fucked, and slept on the stone steps; one hundred thousand of his men sat in silence wearing black and bronze and watching him as Trex walked out into the arena alone and unhelmed. His soldiers watched the games in silence. They made not a sound when twelve of the most beautiful girls to walk on small bare feet were raped and flayed apart by dark priests in a ritual to Gazu Kadem's god-king, Danken Ovelde. They studied the three-horned desert bull as it gored five slaves. They watched the spear technique of four slave armies as they warred in a single great battle. They watched blades of silver spray fans of red blood into the air. They watched vital organs spill onto the white sands. They heard men and women scream as life left them. They... Question: What is probably true about women screaming === The answer to the above question is

OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- they were dancing
- they were happy
- they were in pain

Answer: they were in pain

Problem: OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- all night
- all weekend
- fifteen minutes
Q: In the cosmic scheme of things, this was relatively minor. But very annoying. I had met a woman. Actually, at 19, she was still a girl. I lived in Pittsburgh. She lived in London, Ontario. She was, to put it bluntly, hotter than hell. On top of that, she's one of the sweetest, nicest people you were ever going to meet. Needless to say, I was quite smitten, and quickly arranged to spend a week in London with her. When I showed up, she was wearing very interesting pajamas. At least for a few minutes. Unfortunately, my two cats, who had never spent a night in my home without me being there, were, less than impressed when I didn't show up by 5 PM the day I left, despite having arranged for one of my parents to come over each day to feed them and make sure they had water, etc. Playing with them was optional, but neither would show themselves during that week. Nothing looked amiss on the first floor to Mom or Dad. The food was eaten, the water, apparently drunk, etc. When I got home and went upstairs I found something quite different. There was a trail of toilette paper strewn all over the hallway. My pillow was in the bedroom door and shredded. My alarm clock was on the floor. The power cord had been pulled from the wall and chewed through. There were severaluhmmm "presents" in the middle of the bed, where they had pulled the sheets back. Some of them were still wet. I figure that trip cost me somewhere in the neighborhood of $1k to repair the damage. So I did what any 24 year old would do when faced with that situation. I cleaned up, went to bed, and went back to London a few weeks later. But I cat proofed the house first. (Yes, they still lived with me for another 12 years before passing away.) Like I said, she was wearing very interesting pajamas when I got to London. At least for a few minutes. Question: How long did the girl wear pajamas? === The answer to the above question is
Answer: fifteen minutes

input with options: When I had trouble bending over to tie my shoes and I wasn't pregnant. When I hit about 35 I started having trouble with weight. The strange thing was to me, it wasn't that I was eating more then I used to, as a matter of fact I started eating less. When that didn't help I barely ate at all. Still I couldn't lose weight. What I didn't know was we start to lose muscle mass every decade beginning in our thirties, and I was a ripe 35. Muscles use up more calories than fat, so less muscle means a slower metabolism and the need for fewer calories, and the pounds stack on easier. My second problem was my narcolepsy. When you wake up after a nights sleep there is a release of adrenaline which prompts body and mind into action and helps burn off calories. Narcolepsy causes me to sleep on and off during the day, and as explained by my doctor (so if I have this wrong about adrenaline it is my doctors fault lol) I am not getting that adrenaline release because my bodies clock doesn't know if I am asleep or awake. He suggested in the morning to start exercising about 20 minutes to get that adrenaline rush, in the afternoon exercise about twenty minutes more for the same reason Dieting and exercising brought those pounds back down. I will say it is much harder in the winter for me then in the summer. Summer time I am naturally active. I ride bikes with my husband, swim, garden, mow about an acre of lawn. In the winter I can't ride, swim, garden, or mow, and I hate exercise I don't enjoy. Anyway the long answer to the defining moment but there it is just the same. Question: After the end of the story, the narrator is probably: === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- maintains her weight
- lost weight
- gained more weight than before
- not enough information
output:
maintains her weight