Here is a confession from the test-writer.
On most questions, the trap answer gets built before the right one.
They decide which wrong choice you will reach for, and then they polish it until it
gleams.
So picture the choice that sounds the most decisive, the one that reads like a
closing argument.
That is usually the one they planted for you.
So the answer that sounds strongest is the one I should trust least?
That is the exact opposite of how I read choices for my first month.
It is.
And by the end of this episode you will know the mechanism behind that,
and you will have a checklist that catches it every time.
But first, a quick callback.
Back in Episode 1 we built the argument skeleton.
Quick question, no peeking.
What are the three pieces?
Conclusion, premises, and the unstated assumption.
The assumption is the bridge across the gap between the support and the claim.
Hold onto that gap, because it is the engine for everything today.
Here is the key point.
Almost every wrong answer fails in one of two ways.
It either ignores the gap, or it mis-states the bridge.
That is the whole game.
Today is not new theory.
It is tactics.
These wrong-answer shapes recur in every question type we covered,
Episodes 2 through 10, so one move pays off everywhere.
So one objective, and it is measurable.
By the end, you will run a five-item trap checklist on a choice and kill a wrong
answer in about ten seconds, naming exactly why.
Three moves to get there.
Move one, prephrase before you read the choices.
Move two, the trap checklist itself.
Move three, pacing, when to fight a question and when to walk away.
Move one.
Prephrase.
Picture this.
You finish the stimulus and the question stem, and before your eyes drop to choice
A, you say out loud, in your own words, what the right answer has to do.
Not the words it will use.
The job it has to perform.
Give me a concrete one, because in the abstract this sounds like extra work I do not
have time for.
Picture this argument.
A new bus route will cut Maria's commute, because it skips three slow stoplights.
The question asks what most strengthens it.
Prephrase before reading a single choice.
The answer needs to connect skipping those lights to actually arriving faster.
That is the job.
Now the choices arrive.
One says the bus is painted blue.
True, maybe.
But it is dead on arrival, because you already hold the job,
and a paint color does no work.
So the prephrase is less a prediction and more a filter I walk in holding.
The painted-blue line would have tempted me cold, but with a target in hand it just
bounces off.
That is the value.
A prephrased reader walks in with a target and is far harder to bait.
PowerScore puts it bluntly.
Do not read the answer choices until you prephrase.
But here is the crucial caveat, and it is where students hurt themselves.
Hold the prephrase loosely.
It is a compass, not the destination.
Meaning if no choice matches my exact wording, I do not just panic and assume I
misread?
You drop it and judge the choices on their merits against the stimulus.
On Strengthen, Weaken, and especially Parallel Reasoning, the credited answer is
often phrased in a way you never would have predicted word for word.
If you marry your exact phrasing, the prephrase becomes its own trap.
It predicts the job, not the script.
Move two, the heart of it.
Five recurring trap patterns.
I will name each, give you the one-line tell, and tie it to the gap.
One quick warning first.
These labels are ours, a working taxonomy.
Different prep books name them differently, so learn the shape,
not the word.
Number one, out of scope.
The tell.
It raises a new issue the argument never touched.
That is the oat-milk one you used in practice, right?
It is.
Picture a cafe arguing it should add oat milk because regulars keep asking for it.
A trap choice talks about the cafe's parking situation.
Parking might be a real problem, but it never touches the oat-milk reasoning.
Out of scope ignores the gap entirely.
Number two, extreme, or too strong.
The tell.
Absolute words.
All, never, must, only, always, cannot, impossible.
Okay, let me actually commit to a wrong answer here so you can fix me.
Take the breakfast argument, the one that says eating breakfast probably helps most
kids focus.
The choice that says no child can concentrate without breakfast,
I would pick that as correct.
My reasoning.
It is the strongest statement on the table, it covers every kid,
no exceptions, so it feels like the safest, most complete answer.
Decisive sounds right.
And that pick costs you the question, so listen to the mechanism.
The stimulus said probably and most.
The choice leapt to no child and cannot.
A correct answer can never claim more than the support allows,
and the support here is hedged.
So the very thing that made it feel safe, the no-exceptions strength,
is what walks it off a cliff the premises do not back.
Decisive is the bait, not the badge.
So I should just eliminate anything with the word never or all?
No.
And this matters, because that overcorrection is itself the extreme error this
episode warns about.
Strong words are a red flag to scrutinize, not an automatic disqualifier.
If the argument's logic requires strength, say a Sufficient Assumption answer,
or the stimulus literally says every, then strong is correct.
Match the strength of the answer to the strength the argument needs.
Number three, half-right.
The tell.
One clause correct, one clause wrong.
Picture this.
The premises say every member of the book club has read the new novel,
and Dana is in the book club.
The question asks what must be true.
A trap choice says Dana has read the novel and recommended it to a friend.
Pause and try this one before I answer.
Is that choice safe?
First half is forced, Dana definitely read it, so yes.
No.
Wait.
Recommended it to a friend?
Nothing in there says that.
The second clause is invented.
And that is the kill.
Because the whole answer must be defensible, a single invented clause sinks it.
Half-right is lethal because the test deliberately puts the correct-sounding part
first, so you confirm the opening and stop.
The defense is simple and non-negotiable.
Read every word of every choice, every time.
Number four, reversed.
The tell.
It does the opposite of the task, or it flips a conditional.
Two flavors there, then.
Opposite of the task, and flipped arrow.
Right.
Opposite of the task is sneaky.
You are asked to weaken, and the choice strengthens.
Under time pressure a relevant-sounding choice feels right,
and you miss that it pushes the wrong direction.
The flipped-arrow flavor.
From if it rains, the picnic is cancelled, a trap says the picnic was cancelled,
so it must have rained.
That affirms the necessary condition and reverses the arrow.
The picnic could be cancelled for a dozen reasons.
Looks parallel, is invalid.
Number five, true but irrelevant.
The tell.
It is true, but it does not move the argument.
Honestly, how is that different from out of scope?
They both feel like noise to me.
Good push, and the honest answer is they overlap.
Do not treat the five as mutually exclusive.
Out of scope brings in a brand-new issue.
True-but-irrelevant stays on topic, can even repeat a term from the stimulus,
but has no effect on the logic.
The blue-paint bus fact is the clean case.
On topic, true, inert.
These five are a recognition tool, not a filing cabinet.
A single bad choice can fit two of them.
The point is you flinch, not that you label it perfectly.
Now, how do you run the checklist fast?
Two habits.
First, the weakest word.
A correct answer must be one hundred percent defensible, so you attack the single
most extreme or unsupported word in each choice, not the overall vibe.
One bad word kills the whole thing.
That one move unifies extreme, half-right, and the shell game,
where a choice quietly swaps in a slightly different concept than the stimulus used.
And the second habit?
Contenders versus Losers.
First pass, go through all five and sort each one fast.
Could-work, or clearly-out.
Do not agonize.
Second pass, take only the survivors and compare them head to head against the
stimulus.
Here is the cardinal rule, and it is counterintuitive.
If you cannot say why a choice is wrong, you keep it.
Do not eliminate it.
That is backwards from instinct.
I want to cut the one that feels off and move on.
And feels-off elimination is how you throw out correct answers,
because the right answer is sometimes phrased to feel off.
Elimination is about proof, not gut.
Name the flaw or keep the contender.
Let's run one faded, and before you solve it, do the thing we drill from Episode 5
on.
Name the question type and what it needs.
A store claims its new loyalty app boosted sales because members spend more per
visit.
The stem asks what most strengthens.
So, what type, and what is the job?
Strengthen.
And the job is to tie app membership to the spending bump, to back the idea that the
app caused it, not just restate that members spend more.
Good.
That is the prephrase.
Now a choice says members were already the bigger spenders before the app launched.
Your turn, finish it.
Contender or loser, and say why.
Loser.
Worse than a loser, actually.
For a strengthen question it cuts the other way.
If members already spent more before the app, the app might not be doing anything.
That is the reversed flavor, opposite of the task.
It weakens.
And say why that step works, in one line.
Because it offers an alternative cause for the spending, which attacks the exact
link a strengthen answer is supposed to reinforce.
Move three, timing.
The numbers first.
Each scored Logical Reasoning section is thirty-five minutes with roughly
twenty-four to twenty-six questions.
That is about eighty-five seconds per question on average, call it one point four
minutes.
And remember the structure.
Two scored LR sections, plus Reading Comprehension, plus one unscored experimental
section.
Logic Games is gone as of August 2024.
So Logical Reasoning is about two-thirds of your scored test.
This skill compounds.
So I just spend eighty-five seconds on each one and I am fine?
That is the trap hiding inside the timing advice.
Eighty-five seconds is an average, not a budget you spend evenly.
The questions tend to get harder toward the back of the section.
So the smart move is to run faster than average up front, about a minute on the easy
early ones, to bank time for the brutal later ones, closer to two minutes each.
Spend unequally.
That is the whole skill.
And when a question just will not crack?
You skip, deliberately.
Cap a question at about ninety seconds on the first pass.
If you are stuck after that, cannot find the conclusion, cannot eliminate more than
one choice, you make your best guess, flag it, and move on.
Skip is a skill, not a failure.
The math is unforgiving.
Sink four minutes into one hard question and you silently lose two or three easy
ones at the end you never even reach.
Why guess now if I am coming back?
Why not just leave it blank for the moment?
Because skip never means leave empty.
It means guess, flag, and come back.
You bubble a guess immediately so that if you run out of time,
the points are still in play.
There is no penalty for wrong answers on this test, so a blank bubble is pure lost
points.
And the return pass has a bonus.
Fresh eyes catch the careless misread, a missing not, a most,
an except, the one word that flipped the whole question while you were grinding.
Here is your compressed heuristic, the thing to carry out the door.
Prephrase the job, then hunt the weakest word.
Say it with me as a rhythm.
Prephrase the job, hunt the weakest word.
And the five tells, fast.
Out of scope, extreme, half-right, reversed, true-but-irrelevant.
New issue, absolute word, one bad clause, wrong direction, true but inert.
That is the checklist.
Now back to our cold open.
Remember the answer that sounds the most decisive, the one built to be picked?
Run it through the list and you will usually find it tripping extreme or half-right.
The polish is the bait.
The right answer is often the quieter, fully defensible one.
Prephrase the job, hunt the weakest word.
And two non-negotiables before I go.
Never leave a bubble blank, because there is no guessing penalty,
and actually practice skipping in timed sets so it is instinct,
not a decision I make mid-panic.
That second one matters.
This episode is the recall layer.
The time-management muscle only builds in the timed question bank,
so go run one timed set tonight and force yourself to flag and skip at least two
questions on purpose.
Next time, Episode 12, the finale.
The full Logical Reasoning attack plan, where the skeleton,
every question type, and today's traps and timing all fold into one routine you run
on every single question.