Homura flips out.
"I AM FRESH OUT OF FUCKS TO GIVE ABOUT ANYTHING AT ALL!" You can hear Homura yell on the other side of things. "EVERYONE IN THE VAN, EVERYONE IN THE GOD DAMN VAN, WE ARE TAKING A ROAD-TRIP, I AM TAKING MATTERS INTO MY OWN HANDS, I NO LONGER GIVE A SHIT ABOUT SUBTLETY."
There's assorted high-pitched complaints about this interruption to the daily routine, which is answered by more gunfire and the crashing of china... you think you remember a display case of some fancy flatware. So long, dishes. Your ornamentality will be missed.
"NO. THERE ARE NO ARGUMENTS. WE ARE GOING TO, TO, TO CANADA, AND YOU WILL FIND A JOB JUST AS GOOD AS HERE, AND YOU WILL KEEP BEING A SUBMISSIVE HOUSE-HUSBAND, AND YOU WILL KEEP BEING A BABY, GOOD JOB ON THAT BABY, YOU'RE DOING VERY WELL, AND YOU, MOST ESPECIALLY, WILL NOT BE TRICKED INTO DEVIL CONTRACTS FOR YOUR SOUL OR KILLED BY GIANT MONSTERS, OR MURDERED BY OTHER SOUL-TRICKED IDIOT GIRLS, AND YOU'LL LIVE A TOTALLY FINE AND HAPPY LIFE WITH ABSOLUTELY NO SUDDEN AND UNEXPECTED DEATHS IN YOUR YOUTH, YOU WILL LIVE TO A RIPE OLD AGE OF A HUNDRED AND FIFTY TEN, AND I WILL SHOOT THE GOD DAMN GRIM REAPER HIMSELF IF HE SAYS OTHERWISE, BUT I AM OUT OF PATIENCE SO NOW YOU WILL GET IN THE FUCKING VAN."