Sorry I had a premonition.

The year is 2052 you walk into the toiletries isle of your local supermarket and find that the menstrual pad shelf is split in two:

The array of brightly coloured pads you know on one side and on the other, rows of black packaging with bold metallic silver letters spelling out each brand name always followed by “MEN” in all caps.

Functionally, they are exactly the same as the pink pads but they cost half as much.

Hey ladies, let’s play a game

Tampon?

Or ammunition?

Ugh, “critical duty” makes me anxious on several levels. It makes me feel like a queen of a declining monarchy who has to birth a male heir and ignore her husband’s philandering.

Unrelated: my unique perspective is not appreciated in the Academy gun section. (Cowards.)