You Are On The Rag Day!
Today, you got your period again. The 159th time in as many months. You're used to it by now, the discomfort, the mood swings, etc. But this time, you're being held captive by kidnappers.
"Hey!" you pound on the door. "Hey!"
The stringy-haired one pulls the door open a crack, points his gun at you.
"I got my period," you say.
His eyes blink fast, as if you had told him you just delivered a litter of puppies.
"Tampons," you say. "Or whatever."
He wants to ask if you're serious, but he holds his tongue. He must have a girlfriend.
"Fuck," he says. Then slams the door shut.
There are no tampons in the house. You're certain they didn't think this part through ahead of time. You hear loud talking coming through the floor above you. In an hour, the stringy-haired one will come back and hand you through the crack in the door a roll of paper towels.
Happy You Are On The Rag Day!
