input with options: Read the following context and answer the question. Context: I was about 14 and lived near a large tract of undeveloped land where people would go and park to fool around. There was a dirt road through the tract, but further down, it crossed two huge concrete pipes. The dirt was washed out between them, and the deep gulch made it impossible to cross in a car. Sometimes, eight or ten of us would go looking for parked cars. If we found one or more, we would go move this incredibly heavy stump onto the road and lay a telephone pole across it. It took all of us and it was incredibly heavy. It was impossible to drive around it because of the ditches and there was no way two or three people could move it. We'd go back to the car and set off a big string of fire crackers or shake the cat and slap on it and run like crazy. We'd watch from the woods as they drove like heck and come to a screeching stop at our roadblock. The guy would get out and try to lift the pole. Never happen. Then the car would drive the other way. That wouldn't happen because of the pipes. We'd go home leaving them in there. This was before cell phones, and it was miles to a pay phone. We'd go back the next day and find the stump and pole moved. We thought it was real funny until one night we set it up and beat on the trunk of a car. A couple was inside, getting it on. We hadn't noticed a guy sitting on the hood with a bottle of booze and a pistol. As we ran, he was shooting and we could hear bullets going through the underbrush. No one was hit, thank goodness. That was the end of that stunt. Question: Who engaged in this occasional stunt? Answer:
OPTIONS:
- A group of eight or ten youths
- The man with the gun
- The 14-year-old boy
- not enough information
output: A group of eight or ten youths

Q: Read the following context and answer the question. Context: "If you can answer three questions," the dog said, "you can wear the magic shoes." Tommy looked up and down the deserted street. "Did you ... say something?" "That's right. Didn't you hear me?" It was a gruff voice, with just a trace of an English accent, and it was definitely coming out of the dog. "You're a dog." In fact it was a huge, fat bulldog, with big flaps of skin hanging off the sides of its face. From where it sat, on the front steps of the abandoned motel, it looked Tommy straight in the eye. "That's correct," the dog said. Tommy stared hard at the dusty windows of the motel office. "This is a trick, right? There's a TV camera back there and you want to make me look stupid." "No tricks, Tommy. Just three questions." "C'mon," Tommy said. He deepened his voice. "Sit up." The dog stared at him. "Roll over. Play dead." "Cut the crap, Tommy. Do you want the shoes or not?" "Let me see 'em." The dog shifted its weight to one side, revealing a battered pair of red Converse All-Stars. "Yuck," Tommy said. "Those are gross." "Maybe," the dog said, "but they're magic." "What are the questions?" "Which of the following presidents died in office? Lincoln, McKinley, F.D.R.?" "C'mon. They all did. That's the same dumb question they use when they're trying to sell you a free portrait on the telephone." "Which weighs more, a pound of feathers or a pound of lead?" "They both weigh a pound. This is stupid. Next you're going to ask me who's buried in Grant's Tomb." The dog narrowed its eyes. "Have you done this before?" "Ulysses S. Grant," Tommy said. "Lemme see the shoes." They were just his size and felt pretty good, even though they were scuffed up and the metal things were gone out of the side vents. "I don't feel any different," Tommy said. "You need the shoes to look for the treasure," the dog said. "What treasure?" "When you're wearing the shoes, you can open the doors of the motel rooms." Question: How many employees probably work at the abandoned motel? Answer:

OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- Zero.
- 20.
- Five.

A: Zero.

Read the following context and answer the question. Context: Aage Llievang tried explaining to his mother, but she shook her head. "Now, Aage. Really. Your own car? A car? What would the other co-op members think?" "Mom, this is a classic! 1952 MG-TD. It's even--" "British Racing green... yes, Aage. I know. Your father knows. Your grandmother knows. We all know about the car." "But Mom, look." He waved his Handy at her. The MG glowed on its small screen. "There's one up for auction on carsforsale.com and I'm too young to bid. You've got to help me." "Aage!" She put her hands on her hips and shook her head. "Your age is not the problem. You can't even afford it." "I'd pay you back." How could he explain his fascination with the Vehicular Age to her? The seductive sheen, the rumble, the combustive power of automobiles called to him like a siren at sea. He coveted the sense of possibility inherent in the turn of a key. And the MG-TD held a place high in his list of hope. British Racing Green, wood dashboard and a four-stroke engine. He had only seen one MG-TD, when he'd gone on holiday with his folks to the U.K. They had been walking down the street in downtown London. Most of the traffic had been pedestrian or cyclist. The occasional fuel-cell car glided by like a ghostly leftover from the Vehicular Age. Double-decker biodiesel buses roared past regularly, trailing the odor of fish and chips after them. And then it came down the street toward them. A car that purred as its rounded lines soaked up the sun with a green so deep it was almost black. It pulled into the valet parking of a grand hotel and two people got out. Aage barely noticed them. He stared inside the car, where chrome and brass gleamed against a burled wood dashboard. The doors of the car shut with the heavy thunk of real metal. A valet pulled the car out of the parking circle and Aage never saw it again. Question: Who wanted to buy a 1952 MG-TD? Answer:

OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- Aage's mother
- Aage
- Aage's grandmother

Answer:
Aage