Phoebe is the Queen of lists. On her fridge, her whiteboard, all over her hands and… everywhere basically. Her favourite lists are: shopping, favourite stationary, least favourite numbers, past jobs in order of wanting to staple her earlobes to the table, the missed opportunities folder in her emails. When her lists are becoming an overwhelming list-athon and a giant fluffy monster appears, she’s sure there isn’t a problem. Phoebe wonders if she needs her space, but the monster is a really good cook. So why is she suddenly listing all the ways she might die?​​