I beat up Haruhi

I beat up Haruhi

I was in the middle of beating Crystalis blindfolded when all of a sudden I was mysteriously teleported away from my computer. I took off my blindfold to see Haruhi prancing around, exclaiming she was thrilled to meet a dinosaur. I lazily autographed her face and began to make my way out. Upset that I wouldn’t stick around to be in her shitty club, Haruhi threw a tantrum and tried to drug me. Sick of seeing Haruhi abuse others for her own selfish amusement, Kyon cocked his fist back to smack Haruhi, but his horrendous form made him look like he was trying to lift a pom-pom instead of trying to throw a punch.

Koizumi held Kyon back. “Such a weak-ass pussy punch won’t do,” explained Koizumi. “This is a job for Baka-Raptor!”

I prepared to administer the standard solar plexus blow, but a feeling of déjà vu halted my movements. Had I done this before? Nagato confirmed that we were trapped in a time loop caused by Haruhi’s being an egotistical crybaby bitch. Whereas a fool would stop there, I continued to milk Nagato for information that would help me break the time loop.

  • How many times had I figured out that we were in a time loop?
  • What had I previously done to attempt to break the time loop?
  • How did those previous attempts fail?

I connected Nagato to a printer (definitely not a Lexmark) and printed out the data in spreadsheet form. An objective statistical analysis of the data made it clear that only one technique could vanquish the evil known as Haruhi Suzumiya: the vaunted Flaming Child Punch. Just as planned, the technique sent Haruhi flying into the trunk of a sedan, which was then ingested by a hippopotamus.

Future Mikuru time traveled to the present to inform me that the future had been saved. Then she started humping me. Unsure whether she’d reached the statutory age of consent, I asked Future Mikuru to proffer two forms of government-issued photo ID. Both forms of ID listed her birthdate as being in the future, which meant she had a negative age in the present. Obviously, that meant she was less than eighteen, so I firmly rejected her. Future Mikuru understood.

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