Phoenix is at a crime scene when he gets a message from you, in all caps, threatening him and telling him that he has to go to the store and buy you menstrual products. You don't specify which kind because, at this point, you don't care. You want it to stop.

Naturally, he ditches the crime scene, fearing your wrath and blood-fueled rage. He rushes to the nearest convenience store and finds the aisle full of sanitary products. He stares at everything, overwhelmed by the options. There are pads (some say they're reusable!), tampons, cups, liners, and even menstrual underwear. There are so many options and so little time. Panicking, Phoenix just grabs one of everything in all its variants, just in case.

You're hiding in the bathroom and groaning when he finally arrives. Phoenix knocks twice before placing the bags — all seven of them — at the door. You open it for a split second, snatching them all before shutting the door again.

"Is that enough or do you need more? Did I even get the right ones?" Phoenix asks, still looking panicked even though the worst is over. "I didn't know what kind to get, so I just got all of them."