“Madelyn, please get rid of the babies,” Justin implores her. I’ve counted fifteen babies on the limo seats and floor. Suzy is holding two of them, Madelyn another one, I took another one, but it’s not helping. And the babies are beginning to cry.
“Get rid of the traffic jam, Justin,” she tells him. “We have to get to Bordeaux, not Paris!”
“The babies, Madelyn!”
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