GK: Week after week after week, you are a goddess of light and mercy --

SS: Let me help you.

GK: You are an emotional support to your friends and family.

SS: Tell me what's wrong.

GK: You bring elegance into their lives.

SS: It's baby arugula with shaved parmigiano, marinated cranberries, thin slices of duck confit, lightly dressed with olive oil.

GK: And then comes the Time of the Month. (SS LOW GUTTURAL GROWLS) When your body is taken over by demonic hormonal forces. (SS: SHUDDUP.) P.M.S. Psychotic Maniacal Sickness. (SS: EVERYBODY OUT OF HERE.) You stand in the kitchen, knife in hand, about to shave that parmigiano, and it hits you. Waves of emotion. (HEAVY SURF) Your children shrink back. (TR CHILD: Oh oh.) Your husband reaches out to you. (FN: How about we go out for dinner?) And you feel loathing. (SS: You--did this-- to me.) And you reach out to him, with the knife. (SS: How'd you like to bleed a little, big boy?)
GK: ...For days, your family walks on tiptoe around you. (FN(DAD): Mom is just fine. She just doesn't want to see us or hear us until Tuesday.) As your bloated, puffy body is tortured by severe cramps and your mood swings from homicide (SS LOW GROWL, PANTING) to paroxysms of grief (SS SOBBING) and the obsessive eating of peanut butter (SFX) and then there is the out-of-control behavior. (SS: Oh my goodness. I've just put his underwear in the shredder. What was I thinking?) You try to control yourself with doses of Motrin and Bailey's Irish Cream (SS LOW SINGING: Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose) and mean while you have to pick up the kids at 3:30 and you're thinking weird thoughts about vehicular manslaughter (SS SNARLING) and then "This American Life" comes on the radio (TR (IRA): People who suddenly go bonkers and do terrible things for no good reason and spend weeks in bitter regret -- that's our subject today on "This American Life" --) and you get mad at Ira Glass. At Ira Glass. (SS: Oh just shut up. I'm sick of you and your precious little exercises in high-school irony --

TR ( IRA): What did you say? Precious little exercises?

SS: You heard what I said, you pretentious twit.

TR (IRA): How can you say that to me? You just crushed my heart. You know that? That makes me so sad.

GK: Your PMS is making life very difficult for people you love and you know it. Time to learn a lesson from the Women of Seattle. Time to join (FN WHOOP) Women Hunters Of the Olympic Peninsula.
Out here in the Pacific Northwest, women with PMS don't sit home and cry and yell at their families, they use their hormonal forces to bring in food for their families. They go out in their trawlers (SS: TO THE BOATS) (MARCHING FEET) and they put on their hunting bras which compress the right breast to make it easier to fire the gun (GUNSHOT) or shoot the arrow (SFX) and they put on their slickers and into the driving rain they steer (BOAT THROBBING MOTOR) and PMS makes them impervious to weather (SS TARZAN CRY) and they go to sea and they bring down the albatrosses (GUNSHOT) to make albatross sandwiches and when they see the chickens of the sea (CHICKENS, GUNSHOT) they bring those in and they fire the harpoon gun and (SFX) bring in a walrus (WALRUS) and a polar bear (SFX) and they go ashore and find baby seals and club them to death for their fur and that's what will put their kids through college -- (SEALS) (SS: The rest of the month, I'm a vegan. And for four or five days, I am a killer. GUNSHOT) If you're going to be out of control, you may as well do it in a way that helps your family. (BOAT MOTOR REV)

SS: I see a humpback whale out there. A white one. Let's go!

GK: Look for them online (FN WHOOP) Women Hunters Of the Olympic Peninsula. (GUNSHOT)