I've had two. Both happened in Newport RI when I was in the US Navy. First, I lived in a cottage that was in an old motel. It had a cottage in front where the landlady lived and there were ten little cottages in a half-moon configuration around it. Ours was a party place and we didn't have a phone. This was in the early 1970's. The landlady was in her 50's I'd guess. The only phone was a pay-phone outside her cottage and it was o party line with her phone. When we used it, she would try to listen, especially if we were talking to a girl. We could tell and sometimes we'd ask he to hang up, but other times we'd talk about sexy stuff and let her listen. We could hear her breathing heavy when we did. When we'd be parting, she'd come to the door wearing sexy clothes that were completely inappropriate and want to be invited in. Though we were a bunch of horny sailors, no one wanted any part of that. We never let her come in. I got married and moved into an apartment that was three rooms in a huge old house. They closed that Navy base and all of the sailors were transferred elsewhere. There were bumper-stickers that said, "Will the last sailor to leave, please turn out the lights." In those days, Newport was a small town that leached off of sailors. My landlord said that when my wife and I were completely out and it was completely clean, he'd refund my deposit. We left the apartment immaculately clean and he wouldn't refund my deposit. That was nearly 50 years ago and it still pisses me off. When did the sailor get married? A. before living in the motel cottage B. not enough information C. after living in the old, huge house D. After living in the motel cottage and before the apartment in the huge old house
D

Yes. 20 years ago. When I was a lot younger. I was victimised by a gang of bent police men, who arrested me and set me up to get charged with something that I did not do which I believe was connected to other criminals who live in my area, who I believe were connected to a gang of DJ's who were involved stealing intellectual and copyright works from me (likely their party organisers and drug dealer buddies). I was sent to court and found guilty based on no evidence by a magistrate court judge who was later struck off for corruption after defrauding an old lady of over a million pounds! I was not put in prison for this minor offense but did receive a minor criminal record. This criminal records the same DJ's and bent ex-police have used to ruin my reputation and career. One of the bent policemen, who incidentally had already been thrown out of the police force for car insurance fraud, even turned up at the uni I went to and spread vicious slander to ruin me there, and in the area that I lived at the time. I was then victimised by the people at the famous college that I went to and all my intellectual and copyright works stolen. Which I note, generated millions for others. Once they made their money and gained credibility on the back of my hard work, innovation and some may say genius, the thieves then did all they could to ruin my reputation in the entertainment industry and in the area that I live. Making my life extremely hard for no more reason than having my work stolen. If I wasn't so tough, and for a few people left who have at least some integrity, I would be dead now, like the rest of their victims. I have lost respect for quite a few people who I used to think were really talented. I now understand where there talent comes from Shame on them. What is the author doing now? A. continuing to pursue his career and clear his name B. sitting at home and drinking C. not enough information D. nothing
C

ROLAND NARROWED HIS EYES AND STARED UPWARD INTO THE DARKNESS, across the top of Mont Segur toward the Cathar fortress. Standing on a high walkway of planks behind the palisade of the crusaders' small wooden fort, he heard faraway voices and saw torches moving on the Cathar rampart. The two men on watch with him that night, a sergeant from Champagne and a young man-at-arms from Brittany, were talking in low tones about the women to be had far below, at the foot of the mountain. They seemed not to see the activity about the Cathar stronghold on the upper peak of the mountaintop opposite their own fort. But Roland, knowing Diane was in the besieged fortress, could not take his eyes from it. He knew he had to act soon. Each day the crusaders grew stronger and the Cathars weaker. Once the Cathar stronghold fell, the crusaders would slaughter all within, including Diane. The sergeant, chuckling, was offering his young companion a wineskin. The Breton never received it. From behind the Cathar wall came the sound of a huge thump, as if a giant's fist had pounded Mont Segur. Roland recognized the sound, and fought panic as he thrust his arms out, trying to push the other two men toward the ladder. But there was no time for them to climb down to safety. The thump was the counter-weight of a stone-caster, and the whistling noise that followed fast upon it was the rock it had thrown. A shape as big as a wine barrel blotted out the stars. The stone hit the parapet beside Roland, and the whole palisade shuddered. Roland caught a glimpse of the sergeant's horrified face and heard his scream as the boulder struck him, crushing him to the ground. By the end of this story, the sergeant is: A. not enough information B. Talking to women C. Dead D. Attacking the crusaders head-on
C