Question: Q: Marnie Sleightholme was well chuffed when she got the chance to be carnival queen, and she couldn't give a shit if it was true what folk were saying about her only getting picked because she'd had her right arm ripped off. Ever since the accident, Deborah Bullock had been using twice as much make-up to disguise her rage. Marnie being picked as carnival queen had only made her pile it on even thicker. Deborah Bullock told anyone who would listen how it was a complete piss-take to give the job to a cripple. 'Imagine getting a wedding cake covered in frosty decorations and shit like that, but it's already got a big chunk bitten out of it. Well, that's exactly how it is.' Deborah Bullock had dreamed of being carnival queen since more or less the start of primary school. She used to tear their pictures out of the newspaper and dress up to look like them, and tell Marnie she never could because she was too fat and ugly even to pretend. It was Deborah Bullock's on-off boyfriend who'd been driving the car Marnie had been sitting in when it veered off the road and crashed into a tree halfway down Back South Lane. It was pointless trying to hide the truth. There was only one reason anybody went down Back South Lane at that time of night, and the flashing blue lights illuminated the exact location for the whole town to see. When Marnie came round in a hospital bed, the first face she saw was Deborah Bullock's. She felt an ache in her side and blinked her eyes. The room was bare and cold. There was an empty chair in the corner. Deborah Bullock slapped some cheap flowers down on the bed and leaned in. She smelled of talcum powder and nicotine. 'Do you want the good news or the bad news? The good news is you've finally lost some weight. The bad news is, they've chopped your right arm off. So you're still a fat bitch.' Question: Who felt an ache in her side when Marnie woke up? === The answer to the above question is
A: Marnie

Q: So this thing happened today. I am living in a society where there are almost 90 houses and almost all of them are occupied. We have one sweeper hired for whole society to collect waste and sweep out dust from our society roads. BTW her name is Hira masi (my brother calls her diamond masi :p). And she is extremely poor and she lives in those slums where almost nothing is available. She earns 50/100 per house each month. (Source) As she is extremely poor, all the society people help her a lot. From giving 2 times food to giving clothes and giving bonuses on special occasion as much as Rs. 1000, they almost help her in each and every aspect. And this is by far the most incredible thing our society has which is humanity. But the twist comes here. On the other side, she is extremely cunning. She rarely cleans the road, takes rarely wastes from homes, gives excuses that she is sick and does not come for work, etc. She does not do her work properly. She also request money from us saying that her family members are ill as much as Rs 10000, even if they are not. So this thing was discussed in our meeting and there some decided to continue her as she was very poor and some decided to leave her. But my mom today told me a great thing- If a person is doing her work seriously, then we will surely help him in every way, even if it is a matter of money, but the person who is not sincere and not doing work properly, then sometimes we have to step back from humanity and be strict. If the person is honest and he is REALLY in need of help, we should definitely help them. But the person who just fakes that he is in need, we should be strict/ignore them, else they will not do any work, and just simply rely on us. Sometimes, being strict and giving up humanity will make the person grow. Question: What did Diamond Masi do? === The answer to the above question is
A: clean houses

Q: "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: Why didn't Tommy like the shoes === The answer to the above question is

Answer: A: they're gross