input: OPTIONS:
- ignores Chloe.
- refuses to answer and leaves.
- not enough information
- tells Chloe why he will be fired. Now, answer this question: Chloe's house reminded Paul of a cross between a used bookstore, a computer repair shop, and a college dorm. A wall of bookcases dominated the living room, each shelf crammed with two, sometimes three layers of books, videotapes, CD's and DVD's. More stacks of books and magazines stood in every corner. Paul was certain they would have taken over all the other flat spaces as well, were it not for the half-assembled computers and three dusty old monitors occupying the coffee table, end tables, and everything in between. The only semi-open spaces were the two couches that faced each other from across the room. A large red and black checkered blanket covered one of them, while the other was cracked but still serviceable brown leather. Thrift store purchases both, Paul thought. "The computer stuff belongs to one of my roommates," Chloe said. "She's always fiddling with those things to get better performance or whatever. The books are mostly mine or my other roommate, Kurt's. Come on into the kitchen and we'll rustle up a sandwich." Paul followed her back into the open kitchen area, which (given that he was ostensibly here to have lunch) he was relieved to see was clean. There was clutter in there certainly, but no dirty dishes or leftover foodstuffs appeared in evidence. Along the left wall was a cheap, plastic patio table with long wooden benches on each side and miss-matched chairs at either end. Newspapers, books, and a laptop occupied most of its surface area, but the end closest to Paul seemed clear enough to see actual use as a place for dining. "Is peanut butter ok?" she asked, motioning him towards one of the chairs. "Sure," he said and sat down at the table. As she started to prepare a couple of peanut butter sandwiches on white bread she said, "So, tell me Paul, why are you getting fired tomorrow?" Question: After the end of the written story Paul: === The answer to the above question is
A:
output: tells Chloe why he will be fired.

I was fencing wire at Flat Broke Acres and trying to tighten up the wire a bit. I lost the grip of the fencing wire and the pliers smacked me in the mouth. This is what I hit myself in the mouth with. The curved end glance off my left front central incisor. It hurt some, my lips were lacerated, I scared my wife when I came in to take a look at it in the mirror but the pain to come was far worse. Tooth was intact thank goodness and was a bit wobbly and I said to myself yup, this could be a problem. A month or two later I hit it again when I was putting a portable step fence panel in the bed of the truck and it bounced and split the bridge of my nose and hit the tooth again. did not break or get displaced. Thank goodness I have a particularly thick head. Tooth trauma is a strange thing. It can blow up anywhere up to a year later. So almost 6 months later I was flying to a meeting in Orlando and of course the tooth decided to react to changes in atmospheric pressure just so I could experience the exquisite pain of barodontalgia. Kind of pain that makes you want to pry the top of your head off with a pitchfork because it would take your mind off the pain. Problem was it did not resolve after landing or anytime during the 4 days I was at the meeting. A combo regimen of acetaminophen and ibuprofen manage the pain well enough until I could get home and have it seen to. Pain did not end but the Xray showed no fracture or endodontic lesion. Strange. Then as suddenly as it occurred, the pain ceased. Strange x 2. Snapped another film and there was no pathology. Tooth was vital on pulp testing. So I did nothing more. I chalked it up to it being a karmic reminder about patients and dental pain as I've never had a cavity let alone a dental abscess. It let me feel your pain. Question: How dose his wife feel about what he did to himself? === The answer to the above question is

OPTIONS:
- It was a fluke.
- not enough information
- He made a mistake.
- That he is clumbsy.

Answer: That he is clumbsy.

A confession: I quietly love flying. This year, I've done 163,581 miles of it. I love that when you fly a lot, the airport social media staff say 'hello' on Twitter when you arrive and the cabin crew on your home route (or even on the Brisbane-Dubai non-stop route) recognise you from last time. I like getting great service, and see so many things about systems-thinking that work well in airlines, that I'm happy to forgive small indiscrepancies when they occur. All that said, flying strangles our planet as much as eating too much red meat, and for many, many reasons, I've wanted to stop flying quite so much, while not restricting the spread and growth of the ideas from our firm, NoTosh. I'm quite sure that nobody reading this blog really cares about how much I travel, but keeping an annual count on it has become a new year habit. When I started working at Channel 4, and then continuing when I created NoTosh, I wanted to keep track of what seemed like an interminable number of miles on the road and in the air. By 2012, 2013 and last year, I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever be able to get the number of miles down when they seemed to represent even more trips to the moon and back each and every year. When you run a company based in Edinburgh with a great team living in Melbourne, you could easily spend your life on a plane - one flying to Melbourne feels better than two or more flying to Edinburgh. Indeed, in 2012, 2013 and 2014 it felt like I really did spend my life on a plane, as I went to the moon and back in my annual travel, with anything up to seven trips a year to Australia. Question: Who created the company NoTosh? === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- the airline
- the author
- the social media staff

Answer:
the author