input with options: Cerberus just stared at me. The dog didn't blink, he didn't pant, he didn't move. He just sat in the passenger seat as I drove, relaxed, mouth hanging slightly open, looking at me the way someone examines a menu but can't decide on the chicken or the veal. The desert sky was on fire when the city came into view. Cerberus turned away from me and stuck his head out from the side of the jeep, his giant tongue flapping in the eighty mile an hour wind while I dialed Luna's number. The dog pulled his head back in, then rested his chin on top of the overhead roll-bar, his fur blowing back along his head like the spines of a porcupine. "Hello?" "Hey, Luna." "Dingo! Are you there yet?" "No, not yet. I'm just outside the city." Vegas flashed and blinked under the starless sky. "You get in touch with Mr. Waciejowski?" "Sure did. He's at the Denny's near the Excalibur. He's trying to stay away from the blackjack tables." "Yeah, good for him. He has the box?" I could hear Luna stuffing something disgustingly healthy in her mouth. "Mmm hmm." "He hasn't opened it, has he?" She swallowed. "Nah. I told him it was filled with old photos." Cerberus shifted in the seat and scratched behind his neck with such force that the whole Jeep shook; a rather unsettling motion at 80 miles an hour. "Hey Luna, I've got a question for you." I looked over to see the dog's nostrils flared out in the wind while his lips blew back and revealed his frightening set of teeth. "This, uh, this animal spirit guide you had me try to find. Do they ever show up, you know, in person?" According to the above context, answer the following question. Who does Cerberus belong to?
output: not enough information

input with options: The hardest thing was having to give up my three beautiful puppies due to my situation, the environment, and the people in that environment. I've mentioned this in another question. (Lilo, my best friend) (Cleveland, the biggest of the litter, he was chill like me) (Spike, the fluffiest, he was as fluffy as a cat, but clumsy to) What I did for these puppies was out of this world love. I never loved anything more in this world than these three right here. I raised them from birth to almost 11 weeks. While my mom wanted money, selling the others to anyone.(there was 11 in the litter) I cared for their safety and happiness and quality of life. They were my everything when I had nothing. I gave them away to a animal charity organization for free. My mom bitched at me for not getting money for them. At this time I was in severe depression, severe poverty, no chance of a job due to location, and wearing dirty clothes for months in her basement. I love animals to death, I love animals more than I love humans(but I'm no PETA activist). I loved these puppies, what I did was out of complete love and care for them and was seriously the hardest thing I have ever done in my entire life. It gets me very emotional thinking about this, I wish I was in a better position to give them a happy life. The black puppy, Lilo was my upmost favorite. She had the whine of a angel. She used it to always get my attention to give her more love. She always wanted to sleep with me every night and be with me every second of the day. Not a day passes that I hope they are getting love from a family in a great environment. I really want to get to see Lilo again. But of course the dog charity people changed their names. But she will also be Lilo to me♥️ According to the above context, answer the following question. What color was Lilo?
output: black

input with options: Before we got married my husband and I lived in 4 different apartments all within the span of one year. The worst one of all of them was actually a great apartment, but our upstairs neighbors drove us positively insane. A list of their common antics: Blasting movies/music with the bass turned all the way up into the small hours of the morning, in their bedroom, which was directly above our bedroom Stomping, all day, every day, no matter what, always stomping. Sometimes running full speed around their apartment. It was a 1 bedroom and they had at least 4 adults (two couples) and at least 2 kids living there. They also always had company over. It was a nonsmoking complex but they smoked on their porch and tossed their butts over their balcony, which would leave them landing in our little porch. Constantly came out to find butts and trash in our potted plants and all over the ground. We had to call the sheriff on them once because one of the couples living there got in a very loud, very obvious domestic violence situation. We heard them screaming and throwing each other around. At one point the man smashed her head through the wall. The kicker was when they brought home one of those mini motorcycles and put it out on their porch. Their porch was made of slatted wood so there were gaps between the boards. The damn bike started leaking fuel (racing fuel no less) through the slats and on our porch (and all over our stuff). Ruined a table, some laundry I had air-drying out there and killed a few of our plants. Not only that but while this was happening they were throwing their butts down onto our porch too. Could have started a fire. Then there was the spitting. They would spit over the edge of their balcony and we complained so they started spitting THROUGH the floor boards so it was definitely intentional. I have never experienced a more trashy group of people. So glad to be out of that apartment and away from them now. According to the above context, answer the following question. This couple thinks their upstairs neighbors are:
output: Sloppy, rude and inconsiderate

input with options: Paul knew that the plan was insane and probably illegal. Certainly the stuff he'd been helping Chloe and her gang of followers do for the last few hours was technically illegal. He'd asked them why they were helping him, what did they hope to gain? They'd told him that this is what they did for fun. Chloe assured him that they "lived for this kinda shit." Ok, fine. He could sort of see that. Once he was there, helping them come up with the plan and then actually carrying it out, it sure as hell was exciting - probably the most exciting thing he'd ever done. Now that he was home and alone with his misgivings and paranoia, it all seemed like a really stupid idea. If it weren't for Chloe and her mesmerizing enthusiasm, there's no doubt that he wouldn't be doing this at all. But it was too late now. Or was it? It was five in the morning when Paul got back to his apartment. He'd told Chloe that he wanted to get a few hours sleep before the big meeting, but he now realized that there was no way he was going to be able to relax. When he'd stepped out the door twenty-two hours earlier he'd still had his job and was looking forward to a showing the rest of the art team his new designs for some of the higher-level monsters he wanted to add to the game. Screw that, he thought, they're my monsters now. I'll use them somewhere else. It could never work. How could it? Right then and there Paul decided that he was going to call the whole thing off. It wasn't too late. They hadn't done anything yet that wasn't reversible. No one had been hurt. No money had changed hands. No one had been lied to. If he called it off right now he could just move on and try and put the whole, sorry state of affairs behind him. According to the above context, answer the following question. they would probably carry out the plan for:
output:
Few hours in the morning tomorrow