Write the right answer to the question based on the context passage.

Q: So, I worked with a friend of mine who was a playwright to put together a play to take to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. It was a three person show, and one of the roles was written specifically for me. Many of the lines were written after we improvised the scenes in my living room as she wrote the piece. Took it to Scotland, where it was quite well received. A year or so later, it was being produced in New York in a much more prestigious setting. I auditioned, was called back a couple times, and got to the play the role again. Fantastic! THEN, it was produced by an even larger theatre. Different producer, different casting director, etc. I went to the open call for it, and the casting director treated me really poorly. It was odd. She looked at my resume and said, "It says you have already played this role." I said, "Yes, I was fortunate enough to workshop it and originate the role." She looked at me like I was lying. I mean, shuttled me out the door like I was a crazy woman. Needless to say, I was not called back. And that was okay—(I mean, of course I wanted to do the show with this group of people, but hey, we can't always get what we want). Fast forward to opening night: my playwright friend invites me to see the show. The actress playing "my" role was fantastic, but they had to change lines in the script that indicated what she looked like, because she was of Hawaiian descent. Again, no big deal…and she was great! What was strange was meeting the director that evening. My friend introduced me as the originator of the role, and the director asked me why I hadn't auditioned…Overall, it wasn't a harsh rejection or a terrible story, it was just weird to have been treated like a liar when I was not lying… Question: Who originated the role?

A: The actress who is answering the question
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Q: My old roommate's cats, Clise and Monkey, were about as different as cats could be. Clise, rescued as an emaciated kitten from a local park, grew up to be morbidly obese. His interests mainly involved eating food, begging for food, or going around the neighborhood scrounging for food. He could hear a can opener from a mile away.
Monkey was a more active cat. He liked to chase the laser pointer and was the first to run to the door when someone arrived. But he could also be lazy, lounging in a sunbeam or stretched out on the couch.
Both of them liked to watch TV.
Soon after I moved in, I started having health issues which necessitated a lot of time lounging around myself. This was the era of reality TV, back when much of it was actually good. The cats, Monkey especially, watched with me.
Monkey definitely had his preferences. His favorite shows were The Girls Next Door and Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders: Making The Team. Notice a theme here? Playboy Playmates and professional cheerleaders. Monkey liked his T & A (tits and ass).
If one of these shows was on, and I turned it to Project Runway or something, Monkey would march off. But as soon as I turned it back, and he could hear the high-pitched giggling, he'd come running back.
Clise's favorite shows were Top Chef, Iron Chef, and Rachael Ray. Food porn. If there was something he especially craved, like a shrimp stir-fry, he'd assume a begging pose, right in front of the TV, as if Rachael might take pity on him and throw him a scrap or two.
I moved out about a year later. A few months previous, Monkey ended up catching some wasting disease and dying, but Clise, as far as I know, is still there, begging for scraps from anyone he can — in real life or televised. Question: Who is fond of watching cooking shows?

A: Clise
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Q: Yes, it's actually happened to me before. Let me explain before I get called irresponsible, or incapable of having a dog, or incompetent, My dog is my baby, since the day I got her we've been inseparable. I learned from this mistake and have taken every precaution to prevent it from happening again. She was uninjured luckily, but I was freaking traumatized. I have a SUUUUPPPPEEEERRR long driveway, so I usually drive my truck to the end to check my mail, and on this particular day, I was out in my yard playing with Roxie, I saw the mailman drive by through my fence, and so we walked back to the house, I grabbed my keys, and off we went. This wasn't too long ago, maybe May, so it's hot, typical North Carolina weather, maybe 92 and some change, so my windows are down, because I drive a 13 year old black truck, so it's hot as hell, and it makes it hard to breathe. The AC works, it just takes time to kick in, and number 5 (my highest AC setting) does not work. As I'm driving down, I'm going maybe 5 miles an hour. I'm petting Roxie with my right hand when I feel her jerk out of my reach and I hear a bush rustle, I look to the passenger side, slam on brakes (because the last thing I want is to hurt my baby) and put the truck in park. Sure enough, my mom and her Chihuahua were out in the front yard, and Roxie, being her playful self jumped out and ran. She scared the absolute shit out of me, so now when I drive with her in the car, the window stays shut or cracked. Lesson learned. Question: Who owned the chihuahua?

A:
their mom
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