"So, Jenny tells me jury selection is going well," said Buford, puffing small billows of Cuban cigar smoke into the phone with each syllable. "Yes, I think so too." Kyle was speeding down FM-2208 in his new Lexus SC 430, headed toward Coreyville. He could barely make his lease payments, but he had to have that car. It screamed success-- especially with the top down. His wavy head of hair would be easily restored to perfection with a few brush strokes. "Well, you be sure to take her advice. She knows how to pick a jury." Buford figured some of Kyle's attention would be focused on getting Jenny into bed, but he didn't think it would jeopardize the case. "Don't worry, Mr. Bellowin, I will." At only 27, Kyle Serpentine had already developed a successful practice in Longview, defending every kind of crook. Some of them paid handsomely. He idolized Buford Bellowin. Buford had grown up in Coreyville and earned his Bachelor's and Law degree at University of Texas, graduating near the top of his class. Now he was a high-priced, infamous defense attorney headquartered in Dallas. Nicknamed 'The Bell', he had never lost a case. Even in law school, his mock trial team always won. And Buford put on a show in the courtroom. So, the gallery was always packed with those who wanted to see The Bell in action. Occasionally, some hotshot would think he could outsmart him. But Buford was the teacher, and it was his classroom. Before the prosecutor knew what hit him, The Bell would ring, and school was out. "The D.A. really thought she could get a jury out of that pool of forty, didn't she? She thought this was gonna be a cakewalk. They don't get many murder trials in Coreyville. That's good for us. And she'll make more mistakes. Mark my words." Why Kyle thinks Buford is the best defence attorney? - He was affordable - He had never lost a case. - He knows how to ring a bell. - not enough information
He had never lost a case.

(Question)
That day, my mother picked me up from school, wearing the yellow sundress and shawl I remembered from our trip with Father the year before. She looked just like she did most days back then--a glamour queen, a movie star ("Just like Lena Horne," my friend Chloe had once said, "only darker--oh, sorry, Leah!"), but today her beauty somehow had a harder, more defiant edge to it. I could smell the expensive Dior perfume as soon as I opened the door, which surprised me, because my mom was usually fastidious about not getting perfume on her clothes. She was wearing her bug glasses--huge dark things with lenses that bulged out like fly eyes and reflected my face like a fun-house mirror. She had tied a yellow silk scarf around her hair and was taking deep pulls on a cigarette held between two immaculately manicured fingers. Only I knew about the nicotine stains she carefully covered with her special order "forest sable" cream each morning. Tiffany, a stupid but vicious senator's daughter who I had the misfortune of sharing a classroom with, suddenly dashed from inside the school, her face flushed. "Hello, Mrs. Wilson," she called. Before my mother could respond, she giggled and ran back to three of her friends waiting beyond the door. I could hear them laughing, but I was glad I couldn't understand their words. They were all fascinated with my mother--the black housekeeper who dressed like Katharine Hepburn and drove a Cadillac, whose daughter's "light toffee" skin indicated that she might just like her coffee with a lot of cream. Sometimes I hated those girls. "Get in the car, Leah," my mother said. Her already husky voice was pitched low, as though she'd been crying. That made me nervous. Why was she here? "Ma, Chloe was going to show me her dad's new camera. Can't I go home on the bus?" My mom pulled on the cigarette until it burned the filter, and then ground it into the car ashtray--already filled with forty or so butts. She always emptied out the ashtray each evening. Who wore a silk scarf? - Mrs. Wilson - Leah - Chloe - not enough information
(Answer)
Mrs. Wilson

Ques: I've learnt a great amount throughout this studio, first and foremost I was taught: how the art world functions, how specific galleries such as Gertrude St Contemporary run and how artists earn a living. The studio also provided me with basic filmmaking skills such as how to: create a shooting schedule, write a shooting script, set up three-point lighting, conduct an interview, utilise visual storytelling and edit a short film. Throughout the shooting process with my artist I also developed my abilities regarding how to use a: Sony Zoom H2N (and other such handy recorders), a lapel mic, my own Canon EOS 60D and Adobe Premiere Pro editing software. Overall I think the studio functioned quite successfully, it was great to be in a studio with nineteen people who all were interested in the same topics as you. I felt that overall, the studios had a very happy and supportive environment, and you walked away knowing a great deal about the art world and how to make short documentaries. The project itself taught me a great deal about how to work with talent, as well as my group members. Having to work independently forced me to be completely all over every aspect of the shoot, whether that be choosing which questions to ask, deciding what to focus on, where I wanted the shoot to happen, deciding what gear to use, getting to the shoot, carrying all the gear, what I wanted to shoot, managing the audio, managing the lighting, managing the camera set-ups, managing the talent, editing the film, and finding a great soundtrack for it. I'm a pretty self-conscious person and I often doubt the decisions I make or ask someone else for their opinion (should I shoot this angle, or what do you think of this question etc.). Working independently pushed me to go with my gut instincts, to make decisions and to not seek others approval. It forced me to develop my aesthetic as a filmmaker and to own the work that I ended up producing, so ultimately I was really glad with how everything panned out. The narrator believes that - not enough information - The studio is a waste - The studio is a great place - The studio is stupid
Ans:
The studio is a great place