Beano of Christ. Amen.

Plagues that should have made Exodus, but didn't:

The Plague of Peeps.
They're petite. They're pastel. And they will spike your insulin so high that you will immediately go into a coma if you ingest more than two. What makes this particularly tragic is that they are not even that tasty, but you can't not eat them. It is a compulsion that can only be the result of a diseased mind.

The Plague of Cousins.
They come from all over just to treat you with cold indifference, eschewing civility so as to dismiss all attempts at polite conversation, then proceed to talk shit about you to the remainder of your family. They seem to reproduce at an alarming rate, and each successive generation is more obnoxious than last. You can't kill them without serious repercussions. Gladly would I take the plague of locusts instead. Or even the boils.
ADDENDUM: In lieu of talking with Weeze, I'm going to change this to the Plague of All Familial Relations, because sisters and fathers-in-law suck too.

The Plague of Flatulence.
IT IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU EAT MEAT ON GOOD FRIDAY.
Just in case you were wondering.

Oh the humanity.