Problem: OPTIONS:
- a long time
- not enough information
- a couple days
- next week
Q: When I first started out in the field, I was working at a private hospital in the locked psychiatric unit, and there was a call from one of the med floors requiring someone from our unit to assist with a problem of a young man who had bitten through his cotton restraints on his wrists. They were requesting he be restrained with leather ones. I had not done any restraining and was asked to assist a woman counselor to show me the ropes (no pun intended). When we arrived in the patients room, I was shocked to see a man in his early 20's flailing around spasmodically on the bed with his gums bleeding in between his teeth. The nurse informed us that the patient was dying of a liver disease and his body and brain had become toxic, causing delirium. The counselor instructed me to hold down his arms and she placed him in leather restraints which were fastened to the side of the bed. The most upsetting thing which to this day I can not remove from memory was this man literally snapping his jaws at me like a mad animal with traumatized bloody gums from biting so hard on the cloth restraints. There was nothing I, or anyone could do, except keep him restrained from hurting himself or others. It is the kind of witness to suffering I had never experienced before, and I felt almost relieved when the nurse quietly said, " He will die before morning. " I suppose what is so traumatic about witnessing such situations is the utter sense of helplessness. I was a trained therapist, and in this situation, I was unable to do anything, and was rendered powerless. I recall being plagued by this young man's face for some time when I tried to go to sleep at night. Bruce Kugler Question: after the incident, how long will it take Bruce to forget about this? === The answer to the above question is
Answer: a long time
Problem: OPTIONS:
- They are cousins.
- They are married.
- not enough information
- They are strangers.
Q: As it turned out, Greg would have had a hard time canceling the check, even if he'd changed his mind. Chloe's crew had already sprung into action as soon as they left the building. The company used a computer controlled switchboard to route phone calls and this immediately went down, same for their Internet access. Meanwhile, a crude but effective denial of service attack was launched against their company Web site. If Greg decided to use his cell phone there wasn't much they could do, but the hope was that he'd be so tied up with all this other crap that he wouldn't have time to think of that. Paul didn't think any of that was necessary. Greg had given in and he wasn't going to call and cancel the check now. He'd agreed for a reason, and once Greg had a reason for making a decision it was usually impossible to change his mind. And it didn't make sense anyway. All he would have done is buy himself a little more time. Chloe and Paul would just march right back in and start all over again - probably after sending out pics of Evan in drag to all the employees. From his point of view, there was no reason for Greg to do that. Of course, it was still a huge risk for Chloe and Paul. If Greg just wanted a delay to get the lawyers involved, then they were in trouble. Chloe and he had broken a fist full of laws in the past twelve hours. They needed to cash that check and disappear as soon as they could. The bank put up a bit of a fuss about the check, which was one more reason Paul hated Bank of Fucking America. They always had some rule to screw a customer. But Chloe made a bunch of noise and actually jumped up and down at one point and eventually they walked out of the bank with a cashier's check. Question: What is probably the relationship between Chloe and Paul? === The answer to the above question is
Answer: They are married.
Problem: OPTIONS:
- Las Vegas.
- not enough information
- New York.
- Los Angeles.
Q: The nice thing about a city like Vegas was that when a man walked into a drug store covered in blood and reeking of sweaty dog, it was business as usual. I stepped up to the counter and threw down the bandages, handi-wipes, some sports drinks, and three pounds of beef jerky. Some girl with green hair and a pierced head was behind me chatting on her cell phone about flying out to Amsterdam to catch a P show at the end of the month. It took all I had not to turn around and strangle the life out of the waifish little nit. "--means Power. Fargo18 said it's a reference to Damon's first girlfriend, but he's full of shit. Paula was his sister, not his girlfriend. Hey, did you know their guitar player is related to a serial killer? That's so hot. I hear--" I leaned in close toward the cashier. "Can you ring this shit up a little faster?" As I walked out to the Jeep with my booty in hand, Cerberus sat in the passenger seat and casually watched me approach. In the few hours I've been with the dog, it never once threatened me. But its mindless stare made my skin crawl. And I was going to have to put the top up soon. This dog was far from predictable and the last thing I needed was him jumping out and running off with someone's kid. I would probably have to put the chain back on him. I threw the beef jerky at Cerberus' feet then spent the next fifteen minutes doctoring myself. I was going to have a nasty scar over my left eye to match the one on my right temple. After I put on a clean t-shirt I threw back the sports drink and waited a few minutes for the electrolytes to kick in. While I waited, I punched Mr. Benoit's address into my GPS system. A little dot began to flash on the screen. Question: Where does Fargo18 live? === The answer to the above question is
Answer:
not enough information