Disclaimer: I do not own The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya or any of its characters. I also do not own any of the materials referenced in this story either. This was made for entertainment purposes only and not for profit. So there you go.

A/N: People, I must warn you all beforehand: What you are about to read here is very immature, very weird, very gross, and very, VERY stupid. Unless you checked out the genre before you came in here, you will see this is a HUMOR/PARODY fanfic. Not to be taken serious in any way.

I say that, so you people can walk away with your sanity intact.

Have fun, you perverts!

Like numerous other fanfics written, it was a lovely day in the SOS Brigade clubroom. Right now they were all-

...

You know what? You guys have probably read enough stuff to know what. Here's the lowdown in case you forgot.

Haruhi= Computer

Kyon & Itsuki= Othello or some other game

Mikuru= Tea

Yuki= Book

Got that? Great.

So all the members of the SOS Brigade were doing their own thing. Which was generally doing nothing. You know, this is really kind of counterproductive. Shouldn't Haruhi be ordering them all to attend a sports event or something? They're supposed to be looking for fucking aliens, time-travelers, and espers for Christ's sake! Not sitting around all day on their asses! And look at Haruhi! I bet she's not even looking around on Google for anything supernatural! She's probably looking at crappy yaoi doujins! What happened to "Filling the world with fun and excitement"? Some Brigade leader you are, Haruhi!

YOU SUCK!

But anyways...

After the author was done with his Godzilla-sized bitch-fit, something actually happening in the SOS clubroom. Not to any of the club members themselves, you see. You see, the entire room was being observed by someone who had considered himself an integral part of the club since it had been founded. He didn't have any powers, he didn't participate in any of their patrols or activities, and when it looked like the world would end, he simply sat on the sidelines and watched. Why? Mainly because he couldn't move. And given the fact that he wasn't even really alive in a sense. He wasn't even sure he should be considered a he.

His name is Sambo, and this is his story.

...Huh? What's that? Who's Sambo? Well, dear reader, you are in for a most surprising surprise that can surely top all previously mentioned surprises that have surprised you! Sambo is usually seated right next to the energetic Haruhi Suzumiya. Not in a chair, but on the table itself. Look closely...

See him?

He's right there.

The fellow with the triangular base, pointy top, white Kanji that says "Brigade Chief" on his front, and next to the computer.

Yes. Sambo is Haruhi's Brigade paperweight. He'd been with this club when it was just him, Haruhi, Kyon, and Yuki. He still remembered the day when Haruhi had come by the thrift store and bought him, out of all his brothers and sisters. HIM. Haruhi had picked him. God had picked him. Just like with Kyon.

It made him feel... needed.

Being a constant observer made Sambo a bit of an intellectual. He was present for every conversation that took place in here, SOS brigade or Haruhi-related. Thus, he knew every deep dark secret that went on when the members thought they were alone. He knew about Itsuki's unhealthy obsession with lolis and pot, Mikuru's cosmetic surgery and nasty attitude, Yuki's ability to actually belch loudly and break wind, and Kyon's fascination with nose-picking and booger-eating. Freaks.

Only Haruhi was flawless.

She had no disgusting or odd habits when she was alone. Usually, she just read on the computer, fixed up the room, or even looked at a book. And though Sambo knew of her 'quirks', they didn't seem to bother him. Haruhi was just another teenage girl that needed some love and attention (and a god, too, but that's irrelevant now).

What a lovely young woman, Sambo thought to himself. Kyon should see how lucky he is...

Soon the meeting ended, and Yuki, Itsuki, and Mikuru headed for their homes. Kyon and Haruhi stayed behind. Sambo knew what was about to happen and chuckled lightly to himself. Once again, Haruhi would attempt to seduce Kyon for her pleasure. And once again, Kyon would be a completely oblivious tool about it. Smart a girl as she was, Sambo thought Haruhi had absolutely horrible taste in men. And what was with Kyon's haircut anyway? He looked friggin' Julius Cesar. The conversation that took place went something like this:

"So, Kyon... Did you have a nice meeting, today?"

She began to play with his tie.

"It was okay. Kind of boring though."

Haruhi's grip on the fabric slackened.

"Oh? Is that so? Then how about we do something exciting?"

An uninterested gaze from the constant moper.

"Like what? Everyone's gone."

"I meant something you and I could do together... Alone."

"What are you getting at, Haruhi?"

She stopped playing with his tie, leaned forward, and proceeded to press her shapely chest against his shoulder.

"You know~..."

"...What?"

My god, man, your entire arm is practically in her cleavage! Do you think she wants to play Parcheesi with you?

"C'mon, Kyon! You can't be this dense! Can't you tell what I want? What I NEED? I'm a healthy, young woman for Christ's sake!"

"I can see that. But I still don't know what you want."

"Do I have to freaking spell it out for you? I want YOU to fu-"

"Can it wait till tomorrow? I have to go home. My folks need me to watch my sister and her friends while they all play together. See ya, Haruhi."

And without so much as a wave, Kyon was gone. Haruhi simply stood there with a bewildered look on her face.

Three, two, one... Sambo counted down.

"AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGHHHH!" Haruhi screeched into the empty room. "That useless idiot! How could he NOT get my signs? I was practically throwing myself at him! If I don't hurry, that loli bookworm, that big-boobed slut, or that bishie fag will snatch him up! UGH!"

If Sambo had eyes, he would have rolled them. It was no big secret that everyone who had met Kyon was infatuated with him. Be it male, female, or other, they were going to get themselves a taste of the Kyon bone if it was the last thing they did. Really though, Sambo had no idea what made the kid so irresistible. Pretty average-looking to him. Then again, what did he know? He was a paperweight. His sexual orientation was directed towards other items of his kind. He still remembered that spicy thermos that Haruhi's pal, Tsuruya, had brought over to the clubroom during lunchtime.

I'd warm up her juice, any day... he thought with a nonexistent leer. Snapping his attention back to Haruhi, he watched her pace about the room, face set in a scowl, and hands balled into fists. He knew that pose. Haruhi was probably churning out some Closed Spaces right now. Itsuki and his buddies would be busy. And all because Kyon the sex-toy had fucked up once again. Really now, the only thing worse than an angry Haruhi was a sexually-frustrated Haruhi.

Poor kid... sighed Sambo.

"Stupid bastard... can't even take a simple... My god, I'm aching down... Looks like another cold shower for..." Haruhi paused in her walk and looked at her paperweight strangely. Marching over, she picked up Sambo with one hand and brought him up to her face. Sambo smiled. He liked it when Haruhi touched him. She had the nicest hands. How he wished he was Mikuru's boobs so he could feel her touch all the time.

Then, she got a certain twinkle in her eye. She gave him a scrutinizing stare that lasted for about five minutes. As soon as the minutes passed, a large shark-like grin materialized on her face. Then Haruhi quickly looked around to make sure she completely alone.

Sambo was a bit perplexed. What was Haruhi up to? Why was she smiling at him for? Maybe she was just relaxed that Kyon wasn't around. Yeah. That must be it, Sambo figured.

But unfortunately, all the knowledge in the world did not brace him for what horrifying event that was about to transpire next.

Placing Sambo back on the table, Haruhi looked around a bit some more, then she locked the door to the room. Then, she pulled down her skirt, revealing her pink, bunny-print panties. Sambo felt his surface grow red. He had never seen Haruhi change in front of him before. She usually did it from the side since he was always facing ahead or in the costume rack.

Why is she taking her skirt off? Sambo wondered. Is she going to cosplay?

Oh, what a naive and simple-minded inanimate object he was.

Haruhi strode up to him, knelt so that she was at his level ,and simply stared at him. Unlike her previous stare, this one was a bit more quizzical. The adolescent raised an index finger to her chin and just... stared at him.

"I wonder..." Haruhi said in a voice that was as quiet as the hum of a refrigerator. Picking him back up, Haruhi bit her lip. Now Sambo was beginning to become uneasy.

And before he could say or do anything (not that he could), Haruhi slid off her underwear and moved the tip of his top point towards her... nether regions.

Sambo was speechless. No. No. No. No. No. No. Nonononononononononono... She couldn't. She shouldn't. She WOULDN'T...

But she did.

There was a sharp intake of breath right before his tip pierced her opening.

And then...

She... She just... She just violated him.

It was without a doubt the most traumatic thing Sambo had ever experienced. He could feel the stares from his many friends around the room. The computer gagged, Yuki's chair groaned, the board games and their pieces screamed, the costume rack squealed in discomfort, the table yelled out his name several times, Haruhi's armband gaped in horror, and the bookshelf looked ready to spew its contents everywhere.

What was worse was the sounds. Haruhi was making these odd as hell gasping and panting noises. Occasionally, she'd utter something like a rattle or a squeal, making any passersby assumed that a pig and a duck were shagging in the room. Seriously, how could anyone not want to listen in? These walls were like fucking tissue paper! And then she screamed. Oh, how Sambo would forever have that scream etched into his triangular head. It was shrill, it was unladylike, and most of all, it was LOUD. Then again, he should have guessed that Haruhi was a screamer in the sack. He'd heard enough of her caterwauling when she and Yuki did that culture fest concert.

...Or was it Yuki who was singing?

Sambo broke out of these random thoughts as Haruhi used both of her hands to hold him now. She began to slide him out this way and that. It was now completely quiet in the clubroom, save for her rapid breathing, his soft whimpering, and the sound of his polished surface sliding against her slick walls. At least Sambo knew Haruhi shaved. It was still a pretty gross feeling. He was getting coated in her juices now, making him smell bitter, and there was even the faint scent of blood in the air.

Oh, great.

Haruhi had lost her virginity to him.

How much worse can things get? the paperweight thought miserably.

His question was answered as Haruhi began to shake in a frenzy. "Oh, god... Oh... Oh... Oh...! I think... I think... I... I'm gonna...!"

Oh, HELL, no... Please tell me, she's not going to-

Haruhi came.

What occurred next was without a doubt the most disgusting sight any of the appliances and objects watched. Sambo felt most of his upper frame become coated in a spurt of juices that had just emerged out of Haruhi's love-cave. It smelled and felt disgusting. It was like being covered in a paste made of lemons and ground-up tuna. And there was a trickle of blood on him, too.

Why, Haruhi... Why... WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME, YOU MISERABLE CUNT? Sambo demanded. Of course, Haruhi couldn't hear him. She set the dripping thing on a sheet of tissue paper and took a moment to compose herself. Some of her fluid oozed down her leg, making Sambo queasy.

"Wow. That was... certainly interesting..." Haruhi mused out loud to herself. She quickly dressed herself, collected her stuff, and picked him up. At least Haruhi was considerate enough to take him into the girls' restroom to was him up when she made sure no one was looking. And why wouldn't she look? What she had done was even more despicable than what Ryoko Asakura had done.

But even as she scrubbed him down and blow-dried him with the hand-dryer, he still couldn't keep his hatred from boiling. Haruhi had betrayed him. She had raped him. Pure and simple. He would never forget this day as long as his warranty lasted. But now it was over. He could sit back on the table and be comforted by his friends.

Imagine his horror, when Haruhi smiled, and put him back into her school bag for further use.

Sambo screamed as much as his tiny non-lungs would allow.

Half an Hour Later...

Minutes later, Sambo was sitting on Haruhi's bed. The lair of the beast. It was a normal room for a girl: pink walls (probably not Haruhi's idea), sports stuff, anime collectibles, games, clothes, all sorts of junk. A nearby alarm clock on a dresser looked down at him with a concerned glance.

Why the long face? she asked softly.

Sambo let out a deep sigh and told her. Her face went down faster than a vulture after carrion.

That's... You poor, poor thing.

I know.

The door to the room opened, and Haruhi strode in, looking pretty upbeat. Upon sighting her, Sambo dropped his melancholic state and began to swear heavily at her.

You dirty, messed-up, cock-sucking, insane, sack of crap... I HOPE KYON CHOOSES YUKI, YOU MONSTER! he roared. Haruhi began to undress again, causing Sambo to flinch. Not there again so soon!

Sambo watched in complete bewilderment as Haruhi faced away from him and slid off her underwear again, so that her butt faced him. It stuck out behind her like a spice rack. Giving it a slap, Haruhi smirked haughtily as she watched it bounce about to and fro. Sambo knew that big fat butt of hers was her pride and joy, to be sure. She constantly flaunted it in her swimwear during the summer from what he heard from the cooler that sometimes visited him in the clubroom. She picked up Sambo again and grinned.

"Time for a change of pace!" she announced.

Change of... What does she mean by that?

And then Haruhi moved Sambo towards her ass.

OH, YOU GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!

His screams were soon muffled out from a place NO one should be.

Ever.

Two Weeks Later...

Sambo sat on the SOS Brigade clubroom in his usual spot on a sunny Friday. Everywhere he looked, he found an ounce of sympathy. Even though he couldn't turn (he lacked a neck as well, mind you), he felt the depressed gaze of Haruhi's chair offering him support.

He shivered from what had transpired on that fateful day and the ones that followed it. Haruhi had actually stuck him up her ass for ten minutes. It was the most degrading thing he had ever experienced... okay, he already had that happen, except this was WAY nastier. It smelled like rotting meat, death, despair, and whatever the hell Haruhi had eaten that day. Sambo had gone from being a cheap stripper to toilet paper in less than a day. At least she hadn't performed some scary maneuver that involved piss or scat. He was just joyful Haruhi had washed him again afterwards.

But that smell would stay with him for a looooooong time.

It had only gotten worse. Haruhi had done even more unspeakable things to him the following days. While he sat next to her, he saw her browse through sites that should have been blocked off by the school on the computer, and images that would destroy the innocence of a lesser item, like a stapler or mug. He even saw her place a book on the table she'd gotten from the library and leaf through during lunch when she was alone.

The Kama Sutra.

Oh, how his black surface shivered in revulsion.

And then there that one Tuesday, where Haruhi had been feeling 'adventurous', crammed him right up her batcave, and left him there for an entire school day. He still didn't know how in hell she had managed to pull off that feat. Sambo discovered he had claustrophobia that day as well. It was horribly dim in there, too. Dark pink walls surrounded him from all his geometric sides and seemed to close in on him. The smell was so rancid, it felt like he was in a fish cannery; the only time he was happy he didn't have lungs. Sambo should have known. Haruhi was a nasty-person on the outside, so it made sense for her to be bad on the inside. Fuck her 'quirks', she was a god damned demoness that needed to be beheaded, stuffed full of garlic, and tossed into a lake.

As Sambo lay on the clammy lining of his prison, he began to feel grateful he didn't need air to breathe. Speaking of which, he could hear all the sounds Haruhi's body was making: the beating of her heart, the gurgle of her digestive system, the puffing of her lungs, and other icky noises. He heard her laugh at something as she chatted with Tsuruya topside, and wished he could knock her teeth out. He needed to escape soon. There were all other sorts of frightening things and images that went through his head the longer he stayed in here.

Sambo could have sworn that he saw Gigyas and Marx Soul playing a friendly game of Mahjong on a coffee table at the far end of the forbidden tunnel.

As he felt the velvety sensations of the sugarwalls shift around him, Sambo felt himself being coated from top to base in Haruhi's bodily secretions like a candied-apple. However, he was panicking spiritually, for you see... Haruhi's abuse had changed his entire view on women. He could never trust another female again.

He was beginning to feel as fruity as Itsuki.

Noooooooooooooooooo! he'd wailed after Haruhi had douched him out along with the rest of her bodily fluids and went to use the bathroom.

But what had happened to him on that one Thursday, he'd never forget that, either.

**Flashback**

Haruhi and her ebony paperweight lie together under the pink covers of a bed shaped like a red heart. Sambo was covered in sweat, spittle, and other unmentionable things. Haruhi lay opposite of him, completely naked, and holding a cigarette between her fingers. She took a long drag and blew a smoke-ring into the air. Sambo was glad he didn't have lungs.

"So?" Haruhi asked to no one in particular as she stared at her black bauble. "Was I any good for you?"

Sambo said nothing.

Giggling, Haruhi walked away from the scene with a smile on her face and love juice dripping from her posterior to go and take a shower.

Meanwhile, the violated pyramid lie under the covers, weeping hysterically.

**End of Flashback**

Sambo sighed. There was absolutely nothing he could do. He was bound to be Haruhi's sex-toy for the rest of his life. Or until she decided a penis would be more fun and dump him in the trash. That seemed unlikely, as Kyon had approached Haruhi a few days ago, wanting to make up for his previous incompetence.

She merely turned to him and flat out said, "I have no need for your weak and worthless twig, subordinate. You are excused."

Sambo practically saw the bulge in Kyon's pants deflate that day.

Right now, he was wishing that that colossus of a blue monster had shattered him to pieces when it flattened the school. And the worst part of the entire thing was that Haruhi would never be caught and punished for her heinous abuse. Sambo was ready to give in and accept his life as God's dildo.

But he didn't.

NO! I will not end up like Mikuru! I will fight this! Haruhi Suzumiya, your reign of sexual terror has come to an end! God or no god, you're finished! Sambo exclaimed.

The question was how. He couldn't exactly beat the hell out of Haruhi. He could poke her eye out if she wasn't careful enough, but that was it. What could he do.

Then it hit him.

Of course.

Why didn't he see it before? He would commit the one solid, unspoken rule that all human possessions must adhere to. But rules are made to be broken. Good thing he decided on his plan of action so quickly, because Haruhi was entering the room. Happy that she was alone, she locked the door, set down her things, and approached Sambo slowly.

"Time for a quick energy-boost before everyone gets here!" Haruhi said to herself as she picked him up.

As Haruhi began to remove her skirt, Sambo grinned psychotically.

Payback-time, sweetheart... he giggled.

Two Months Later...

Kyon, Itsuki, Mikuru, and Yuki moved through the almost empty school corridor together. Haruhi had been acting noticeably odd for the past two months. She never spoke to any of them anymore, she avoided eye-contact with them whenever possible, and even began skipping Brigade meetings all together. They hadn't been on a patrol in weeks.

"I wonder what could be happening to Miss Suzumiya," Itsuki droned as they approached the spot where Haruhi would be appearing. Yuki had detected her presence and the gang was going to try and confront her together.

"Can't you just use your ESP powers to see how she's feeling?" Kyon inquired.

The esper shook his head. "Naturally, yes. But as of late, Miss Suzumiya's emotions have been locked up. I can't get a good read on her state of mind. The Closed Spaces have been worsening, too."

"Do you guys think we can handle such a thing?" Mikuru asked fearfully. "I can't even get in touch with my superiors anymore."

Itsuki shrugged his shoulders uneasily. Kyon groaned in disappointment. The little group halted their march as Yuki pulled to a stop.

"There," the expressionless alien announced, pointing straight ahead. The other three looked ahead to see Haruhi shuffling along in her coat. She clutched it tightly around her frame as she went. The gang quickly surrounded her.

"Ahhh! What do you guys want?" Haruhi demanded, looking quite anxious to run.

"We want to talk, Haruhi. You've been acting weird," Kyon began.

"Are you in trouble, Miss Suzumiya? Let us help," Mikuru pleaded in her usual meek way.

"I DON'T NEED HELP! LEAVE ME ALONE!" Haruhi shouted.

She moved past them to run, but in the process, got her coat snagged on the handle of a doorknob of a nearby classroom. It dropped to the floor, revealing the large watermelon-sized bump in her abdomen. Haruhi's shirt could barely cover it, exposing her popped-out belly-button. Several blue and purple veins encircled the mass, giving it the appearance of some alien egg. But that wasn't the weird part. They seemed to be numerous pointed protrusions jutting out against the surface of her stomach. Haruhi grabbed her swollen belly with both hands and bit her lip in fear.

Itsuki gawked in utter amazement, Mikuru felt the bile rise in her throat, and even the stone-faced Yuki had a look of complete and utter shock. Kyon, on the other hand, had the look of someone who'd spent their entire life believing they were a man, and then woke up one morning with breasts.

"Wha... What happened, Haruhi?" Kyon finally said.

Haruhi blinked, ran her fingers over her stomach, and just decided to come out with it. "My fellow members of the SOS Brigade, I, your leader, the intrepid Haruhi Suzumiya... have been getting it on with my Brigade paperweight and am now heavily pregnant because of it."

Silence, deafening ,and all-consuming, embraced Kyon, Yuki, Mikuru, and Itsuki.

"...Come again?" Yuki of all people said.

"I fucked my pyramid out of boredom and got pregnant. And, yes, I did try to get it removed, but no clinic would take me," Haruhi replied with a straight face.

Kyon coughed into his hand. "Did you... at least consider protection once?"

Haruhi only glared at him. "No, Kyon. I didn't."

"Oh. ...Well, why?" murmured Itsuki, unable to take his eyes off that veiny belly that seemed to follow him no mattered which way he moved.

Haruhi sucked in a mouthful of air and roared, "BECAUSE IT WAS A FUCKING PYRAMID, YOU DOUCHEBAGS!"

"So... You had sexual intercourse with a paperweight shaped like a pyramid, Miss Suzumiya?" Mikuru asked softly.

"Yes, Mikuru. I did," Haruhi answered once again in a normal voice. Mikuru nodded and seemed to consider this.

And then she burst into gales of high-pitched laughter. Haruhi, Kyon, Yuki, and Itsuki all raised their eyebrows.

"AH HA HA HA HA HA... YOU... YOU... YOU FUCKING LOSER! AH HA HA HA HA! THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE! EVERYONE MAY CALL ME A SLUT AND YOU MAY DRESS ME LIKE ONE, BUT AT LEAST I WOULDN'T LOWER MY STANDARDS TO SCREWING SOMETHING USED TO HOLD DOWN STUFF NEXT TO AN OPEN WINDOW! HA HA HA HA HA!" Mikuru had tears shooting out of her eyes as she held her sides, wild cackles escaping her mouth.

"It's not that funny, Mikuru!" Haruhi screamed in embarrassment.

"IT SURE AS HELL IS!" Mikuru snickered meanly.

Haruhi would have gone longer to defend herself, but suddenly her stomach quaked, causing her to moan in pain. Mikuru stopped laughing as Haruhi began shrieking like a banshee. There was a sound like cottage-cheese being squished, and then there was a soft plop. The SOS Brigade looked down at the area between Haruhi's legs and gasped.

A miniature Haruhi lay on the ground (sailor fuku and ribbons, included), attached to Haruhi by an umbilical cord sticking out of its navel and leading up into the confines of her skirt-which only served to question how the thing got out of her panties in the first place. The mini-Haruhi was bawling her eyes out and rolling around in a puddle of pink and orange slime. There was another plop, and a shiny paperweight fell out, too. They fivesome watched in morbid fascination as the very top of it split down the middle, revealing a red throat lined with pointy, white fangs. With an audible pop, both broke free of their cords and slid/crawled over to Haruhi. Mini-Haruhi hugged Haruhi's left ankle, while the paperweight attached itself to her like a leech.

"MAMA~! MAMA~!" Mini-Haruhi chirped, sounding like the bigger one on helium.

"mA... Ma... MaMA... mAma..." the pyramid... thing said in a voice that was a cross between a growling pit-bull and a parrot with a beak full of wet mashed-potatoes. It licked her shoe with a thin, red tongue.

"...Uhh," said Haruhi

"Uhh..." said Kyon.

"Uhh!" said Mikuru.

"Uhh?" said Itsuki.

"Uhh," said Yuki.

Haruhi's stomach gave another lurch, and before anyone could do or say anything, Haruhi unleashed another scream, followed by a multitude of wet plops. Kyon watched in fear as several more Mini-Haruhis and Mini-pyramids (Sambos, really) poured out of Haruhi's opening, and onto the floor. Haruhi's continued to spew them out until there had to have been at least thirty of each lying on the floor.

And then each of the Mini-Haruhis and Sambos crawled towards one another and began to... do things.

"Nagato..." Kyon spoke slowly, "Are those guys doing what I think they are doing?"

"Indeed. It appears that the two life-forms created by Haruhi Suzumiya are fornicating with each other."

"I see."

Everyone looked at each other in stupefied silence and then ran for their lives, leaving the screaming Haruhi to continue popping out her incestuous offspring.

One Year Later...

In a little over a year, the Earth was overrun with thousands of full-grown Haruhi Suzumiyas and Sambos the size of taxi cabs. Both sides had only needed a total of five hours to reach adulthood before they grew to their full size. Each Haruhi had inherited her mother's capacity to reshape reality, causing the very fabric of the universe itself to crack. Half the Haruhis are engaged in a turf-war on the planet Earth, while others are searching for the place where the SOS Brigade have hidden their mother, who has been in a coma thanks to that fateful day. Having one-hundred or so mutants come out of you and turn your vagina into the Grand Canyon is bound to do that.

Meanwhile, giant, black pyramids are flying about Japan, zapping anyone they can find with their tri-paralysis beams and then raping them with their tongues.

The Agency, the IDTE, and the time-traveler factions have banded together in an attempt to stop the two species, but an unforeseen event caused a hasty retreat to be made. It seemed the Haruhis who had pleasured themselves with their Sambo brothers have given birth to a terrifying new race. A race with their own goals and plans in mind. A race bearing resemblance to muscular men dressed in the bloody smocks of butchers that carry huge knives, while wearing huge, rusty helmets built to resemble pyramids.

Thus, the Pyramid-Heads entered the picture.

The factions attempted to combat these new creatures, but found themselves getting raped, eaten, or a combination of the two. It is unknown what will become of Haruhi Suzumiya, Kyon, or their brigade. Even the fate of the universe is uncertain.

But even in the middle of the chaos, Sambo was still laughing his ass off at the chaos he had brought upon the world from his throne in the fiery ruins of North High, along with his other inanimate subjects.

A/N: Well... I am officially going to hell for this. I don't even know how I came up with this in the first place. Probably from TV Tropes' page on Cargoshipping.

And a LOT of free time.

If you laughed or recoiled in disgust, I have done my job.

Ladies and gentlemen I anxiously await your reviews (and death threats).

Have a jolly good day.