Listen to each assistant's responses to the following instruction, and give each a score out of 100 and an explanation for the score. Here are some additional guidelines: * Do not award bonus points. * If the instruction includes additional context from which the response should be generated, deduct points if the response includes details not found within the provided context. * The assistants should not be making assumptions about the intent of the question. * If the instruction asks for results in a specific format, e.g. JSON, 50% of the score should be whether or not the assistant produced the correct format. * Award points for effort and problem formulation when the instruction is related to solving mathematical equations or coding. Respond in format "[assistant number]. [score]/100 - [explanation] Instruction: As a detective in a film noir, narrate your thoughts as you enter a dimly lit room to investigate a mysterious crime scene. Assistant 1's response: As I enter the dimly lit room, my senses are heightened by the smell of cigarette smoke and the sound of my footsteps echoing off the hardwood floor. The air is thick with tension, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. I see a body lying on the ground, blood pooling around it. The victim is male, judging by the size and clothing, but beyond that, I don't know much yet. My eyes scan the room, taking in every detail – the overturned chair, the broken glass, the open window. There are too many questions and not enough answers yet. I reach down and pick up a piece of paper from the floor, holding it up to the light to read what's written on it. It's a name – "Mary Smith." But who is she, and why is she involved in this crime? I move slowly around the room, careful not to disturb any potential evidence. As I round the corner, I see a woman sitting in a chair, her face twisted in fear. "Who are you?" she cries out. "What are you doing here?" I hold up my hand to calm her down. "I'm a detective," I say. "And you're going to tell me everything you know about this crime scene." Assistant 2's response: I stepped cautiously through the doorway, my senses on high alert. The air was thick with the scent of stale cigarette smoke and something else-- something metallic, like blood. The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a lone lamp on a table in the corner. Shadows danced around me, keeping their secrets close. As I surveyed the scene, my eyes fell upon a figure slumped against the far wall. My heart sank as I made my way over to the body. The man had clearly been dead for hours, blood trailing from a wound in his chest onto the carpeted floor. I swept my flashlight over the rest of the room, taking in the overturned furniture and scattered papers. It was clear that this had been a struggle, that someone had been looking for something-- or someone. I had a feeling this case wasn't going to be an easy one. But I was determined to get to the bottom of it. Assistant 3's response: I entered the room with a sense of foreboding, the only light coming from a flickering streetlamp outside. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and the musty smell of old furniture. The room was cluttered with overturned chairs, broken vases, and a large, smashed mirror on the floor. I could hear the sound of my footsteps echoing off the walls as I made my way towards the center of the room, where I saw a body lying on the ground, blood pooling around it. My mind raced as I tried to piece together what had happened here, and I knew that this was going to be a difficult case to crack. Assistant 4's response: As I step into the dimly lit room, I can feel the chill of the air, and the only sound is the faint ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner. The air is thick with the smell of cigarette smoke, and I can feel the weight of the case upon my shoulders. This is a crime scene, and I have a job to do. My eyes scan the room, taking in every detail. The light from the street lamp outside casts eerie shadows across the room, making it difficult to see. I can see a large desk in the corner, surrounded by papers and files. On the desk, a small, golden statuette sits, its eyes staring back at me. I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I know this is no ordinary crime scene. As I move closer to the desk, I can feel my heart racing. I know that I'm getting close to the truth, and I can't shake the feeling that something is not quite right. The air is heavy with tension, and I can hear the sound of my own breathing. As I reach out to touch the statuette, I know that I'm about to uncover a mystery that has been hidden for far too long. The weight of the case is on my shoulders, and I know that I must uncover the truth, no matter what. Assistant 5's response: As I enter the dimly lit room, I can't help but feel a sense of unease. The air is thick with tension and the only sound is the soft click of my shoes against the floor. I'm a detective, but I'm also a realist, and I know that sometimes the truth can be hiding in plain sight. The room is a mess, with furniture overturned and objects scattered haphazardly. It's clear that whoever committed this crime was in a hurry, or maybe they were just careless. Either way, it doesn't bode well for the victim. I start my investigation by methodically going through the room, looking for any clues that might help me solve this case. I move slowly and carefully, my eyes scanning every inch of the room for any sign of what happened here. As I move deeper into the room, I see something that makes my heart sink. There, on the floor, is a body. It's a woman, and she's been brutally murdered. Her face is bruised and bloodied, and there are marks on her neck that suggest she was strangled. I take a deep breath and try to steady my nerves. I've seen a lot of violent crimes in my time, but it never gets any easier. I know that I need to focus on the task at hand, to put aside my emotions and find the person responsible for this heinous act. I start to go through the victim's belongings, looking for anything that might give me a lead. I check her purse, her pockets, and anything else that might have been left behind. It's slow going, but I'm determined to find something that will help me crack this case. As I continue my search, I feel a sense of urgency growing inside of me. I know that time is of the essence, and that every minute that passes is a minute that the killer is still out there. I can't let that happen. I have to find him before he strikes again. I keep going, my mind racing with possibilities. I ask myself questions, try to piece together the events that led to this tragic moment. Who was the victim? What was she doing here? And most importantly, who did this to her? It's tough going, but I'm not about to give up. I'm a detective, and I'm damn good at my job. I'll do whatever it takes to bring this killer to justice, even if it means working through the night and into the dawn. As I finish up my investigation, I can't help but feel a sense of sadness. This was a woman, a person, with a life and a future. Now it's all gone, taken from her in the blink of an eye. But I won't let her death be in vain. I'll do everything in my power to make sure that the person responsible is brought to justice. I leave the room, my mind racing with thoughts and questions. But I know one thing for sure: I won't rest until I've found the killer and brought him to justice. It's what I do, and it's what I'll continue to do until the day I retire. Assistant 6's response: As I enter the dimly lit room, I can feel the chill of the air conditioning on my skin. I take a deep breath and try to focus my senses on the task at hand. The room is empty, save for a few pieces of furniture and a desk covered in paperwork. There are no signs of forced entry or violence, but something about this room doesn't feel right. I begin to methodically search the room, examining every inch of the space. As I turn on the desk lamp, the light reveals a few small details that were previously hidden in the shadows. A glass of whiskey, half full, sits on the desk, and a single sheet of paper lies nearby. I pick up the sheet of paper and begin to read. Suddenly, I realize that this crime scene is not what it seems. The room is not empty - there is someone here with me. I turn around slowly, my heart pounding in my chest. But there is no one there. Just the echo of my own heartbeat. I quickly scan the room, trying to find the source of the sound. And then I see it - a small, almost imperceptible movement out of the corner of my eye. I turn towards the movement, and there, in the shadow of the desk, I see a figure. It's a man, and he looks up at me with a cold, calculating stare. He raises his hand and whispers, "You're too late, detective. The deed is already done."