TEXT B
Ups and Downs
　
I was convinced that roller coasters were invented in Nazi Germany to conduct fiendish experiments on unsuspecting children who did not ear their vegetables. My earliest memory of riding a "death machine" was when I was 9. A friend of my parents was going to Astro World and invited us to come along. Being the natural adventures that we were, my sister, brother and I decided to journey with them. After arriving there, I somehow found myself waiting in line to ride the notorious Texas Cyclone. Yes, the roller coaster with the sign that should read:
　
PLEASE SECURE ALL LOOSE ITEMS SUCH AS GLASSES; DENTURES; HAIRPIECES; VITAL ORGANS; SMALL, ORIENTAL 9-YEAR-OLDS; ETC. IF YOU HAVE NO WISH OF DYING, THEN GET OUT OF LINE NOW. THANK YOU.
　
"Oh, it's a lot of fun," said Lan, one of the older girls I was with. I was beginning to worry, nonetheless.
　
"This is a wooden roller coaster?" I asked.
　
"Yeah, it's one of the last ones around," boasted Lan.
　
She reassured me a few more times that the ride was perfectly safe and that the odds of getting killed were as slim as something comparable to ... ohhh, living past the age of 9. I smiled to show her that I was totally relaxed and ready for the ride. But deep in the left lobe of my brain I was thinking. "WHADDAYA MEAN WOOD?!! WHAT ABOUT TERMITES?!! Has it not occurred to you that the reason the Cyclone was one of the last wooden coasters around was that people have better things to do than die by being flung from a few stories up off the rails at a gazillions miles an hour?"
　
I stood in line watching others, with the sun filtering through the rafters, twitching my leg nervously. The heat sought us out through the patches of sun, and my legs began to ache from standing. For some odd reason I stayed in line. I'll try to explain this phenomenon as best as I can. You see, all males are forced by some masculine gland, located next to the pancreas, to get on a roller coaster even if they are scared to the point of a bladder-control loss. We are obliged by the girls standing behind us in line to get on the ride or risk the girls thinking that we, the studs we are, are of their gender if we don't. I finally got onto the ride hoping for a quick end. I actually prayed (honest, I'm not lying) and people in line laughed. I thought it eased the situation a bit.
　
I stepped into the car and put the safety bar over my lap. A mad dash for the exit was impossible. There were girls around, so I couldn't leave. The ride attendants checked the bars in the seats to see if they were secure by giving a little tug on each of them. I gulped loudly and grabbed hold of the bars firmly enough to choke a horse. The cars shoved off as we headed of to "concussion city." Clank. Clank. Clank. We approached the dropping point. For a split second I could see the whole park, and then WHOOSH! My stomach hit the ceiling of my skull and was about to escape via my ears as we hit the bottom. The ride did not stop until the end of the Reagan administration. I could hardly recall what happened because I was about to lose consciousness and depart my physical body. I did not breathe for the duration of the ride, and my pale, white knuckles could have been pried off the safety bar only with a crowbar and several power tools.
　
I would cry this fear of roller coaster and dropping at great height for the next eight years. I tried my best to stay away from the larger rides and always took the "easy" ride with no steep drops. Embarrassment followed me every time I was near a roller coaster. I suffered a form of uncanny acrophobia commonly referred to by leading medical researchers as well "chicken".
　
This past summer I found myself at the prestigious King's Island Amusement Park (also known as Spend-All-Your-Money-To-Us-Park) in Cincinnati, Ohio, with my relatives. I decided that in order to conquer my fear I had to, like any rational person would, totally avoid it. However, for some odd reason, the dormant masculine gland resurfaced, and I was forced to get on a ride with girls waiting in line behind me. I took my younger cousin with me, also. This was so I could sit in the designated "41 wuss-section" (or the middle) of the looping Pirate Ship and not be embarrassed because I had a small child with me. I pretended to act cool by talking through the whole ride to my cousin, who was concentrating on not dispersing the contents of these words:
　
Me: WHOOOAHH! Here comes another one!
Him: Uh huh.
Me: WHOOOAHH! MOMMY!
Him: Blurgh! (sound of him vomiting)
People below: Look out! In coming!
　
Before long I found myself on the ride, not assuming the fatal position. That day I went to some other big rides and managed to seem (in the least sense of the word) "manly". I credited my conquering the rides to my masculine gland. You know, it could have been my stupidity gland.

39. The tone of the passage can most probably be described as ____.
A. tragic
B. comic
C. nostalgic
D. facetious
正确答案是

40. Which of the following statement is True according to the passage?
A. Roller coasters were invented by a German.
B. Oriental children are not allowed to ride a roller coaster.
C. The speed of the roller coaster is two gazillion miles per hour.
D. The writer did not ride another roller coaster for eight years after his first ride.
正确答案是

41. How did the writer conquer his fear?
A. It should be attributed to his masculine gland.
B. He pretended to seem manly to the roller coaster, and nothing serious happened, so he was no longer scared at it.
C. He has outgrown the childish fear of big ride.
D. He had to pretend to be manly before his cousin.
正确答案是