input with options: I am always one to at least finish my shift if that happens then talking to my agency if it is agency work or some higher up boss if not. Never mind employers can ask you to leave at any time. After all, job hunting is a huge inconvenience. There is ONE exception to this rule: NOT GETTING PAID. I am not talking about if accounting messes up and you have to wait an extra day or two to get paid. If you are a good employer, I won’t be happy, but I am understanding. I am talking refusing to pay or being even rumored to be not paying. I am not in the volunteer business for business owners. Only happened once… I thought I had a part timer gig being a waiter at an over-priced tourist trap restaurant in the New Orleans French Quarter. As typical for these type of jobs, you do not get to actually wait tables and get tips till a training period is over. Somehow, I did not get the memo that this place did not have “training” but “auditions”, meaning all that silverware I rolled and floors I mopped and food I ran to tables I was not getting paid for! Add to that, if somehow they did not like me, after a week I would not have a job! Now, I understand actors and actresses go to auditions and not get paid all the time. I’ve known a few amateur actors. But, those auditions do not include showing up for a week to work unpaid so maybe you might get hired from talking to them… And waiters don’t do auditions! I left immediately. I think they owed me 30 bucks for half a day’s work at the minimum wage. Tried to go back threatening labor board and all that, but they would not be intimidated. They said there was no record of me being there and to get off property. I wrote it off to bad experience and started working another place that I had been interviewing with. Much better job. According to the above context, answer the following question. The author probably now works in which city?
output: New Orleans.

input with options: Television drama's whole point is to bring you through an often slow start, followed by a complex development to a point where there are two or three potential dénouements before, "Cut!", it is the end of the episode and you will have to await the "right answer" in the following week's show. This post came to me at 10pm last night, on Day 16 of this challenge, after a day of holidaying in London and with my head (and feet) too weary to put finger to touchscreen. Mrs Mc and I had just watched another live instalment of Broadchurch, murder mystery extraordinaire, particularly since in the second series there is no actual fresh murder to investigate. The verdict is about to be given on the accused killer from Series 1 when the inevitable happens... Cue title music. This moment has even gained a moniker in British homes, based on the theme tune to the real masters of the four-times-a-week cliffhanger, London-based soap opera Eastenders. It's call a "ba...ba...ba...ba, ba, ba-ba-ba-ba" (YouTube will provide overseas readers with auditory explanation). Eastenders is such a master of writing in the perfect pace that every 28 minute episode ends with a tantalising screen freeze on the latest shocked face / smirking baddy / confused victim. For really big stories the cliffhanger can last significantly longer. This week, to celebrate the show's 30 year birthday, we will finally find out the answer to a question unanswered for the past 14 months: "Who killed Lucy Beale?" Now, most classrooms do not involve murder, incest, dodgy deals and danger, but "good teaching" encourages a type of pacing that totally ignores the ingredients that have millions in the edges of their seats every day: the good old cliffhanger. In fact, we see teachers giving away the punchline at the beginning: "Today we are learning this:..." According to the above context, answer the following question. After the story ends, the author probably:
output: continues to watch the show Eastenders

input with options: One spring it stopped raining in early March and didn't start again. There was one very well-off bunny in the village who had a large burrow and lots of food saved up. He wasn't worried about the drought at all. The other bunnies, though, looked at the purple-red nettles withering in the fields and the mayweed that hadn't even flowered and wondered if they were going to have enough food to get them through the next winter. The very well-off bunny was named Albertus, but everybody called him Big Al--at least they called him that when they were sure he couldn't hear them. Big Al was in fact a very large bunny with long, white, silky fur. He had lots of land that his parents had left to him, and he never let any of the other bunnies gather food there. The story was that Big Al had sat on the one bunny who tried to make off with some of his carrots until the small bunny begged for mercy. After Big Al let him up, the small bunny moved to another village. One morning a dozen or more bunnies sat around the village square, licking the dew off the dried and wrinkled clover to quench their thirsts, and talking about the drought. There was still a bit of a cool breeze from Possum Creek, a mile or so away. Sophie Bunny, who was large and sleek, with a black circle around one eye, was there with her husband Lenny and their youngest, Ralph, who still lived at home with them. "I don't mind telling you," Lenny said, "I'm getting a little scared by all this." Lenny was a small, tan bunny with buck teeth and big cheeks like a chipmunk. "No need to be afraid," said the short, overweight Reverend Billy Bunny, the village's spiritual leader. "The Easter Bunny will provide." He sat, as he usually did, by the thick green hawthorn bush in the middle of the square--although the bush was neither as thick nor as green as it had once been. According to the above context, answer the following question. Why wasn't Reverend Billy Bunny worried?
output: