by Bibbling Prophet

All these bibblical ladies are mad about having babies. But I don’t get it. They’re so… poopy. And loud. And dumb. You take your eyes off them for even one second and they’re trying to do flips on an open fifteenth story window, or juggling flaming knives. What the heck, babies!? Don’t you understand anything? Oh. No. ’Cause you’re babies.

And thirteen babies?? I know that no single mother in this story has thirteen babies all on her own, but there are still thirteen babies passing throughthirteen vaginas in this one family.