//------------------------------//
// this story turned seven years old? 
// Story: What If... 
// by TheMajorTechie 
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Sweetie Giraffe was having a nice day. The sun was clouded, the rain beat down hard, and oil fires raged all across the land, unable to be put out by the rain.

And above all else, Sweetie Giraffe watched as it all burnt down.

"GOOD." Sweetie Giraffe boomed.






~~~~~===+++{Twilight's Castle}+++===~~~~~


After years of feverishly writing increasingly insane scenarios, Twilight once more momentarily set down her pen. She slowly set her head down on her desk with a heavy thunk.

"This is it, Spike," a quiet mutter rose from the mare. "We're in the final stretch. One hundred twenty-two chapters remain."

She lifted her head a little, a weak smile spread across her lips. "We're gonna make it. One thousand chapters happens this year."

The cardboard cutout of Spike didn't respond.

"What will I even do after that happens?" She propped herself up by a hoof. "I've spent six years of my life writing these chapters. What happens when..." her eyes turned to the dusty drapes that had long-shrouded her room in darkness. "...when it's done?"

Spike the totally-not-a-plushie-of-Barney-the-Dinosaur didn't respond.

A look of determination spread across her Twilight's face. "You're right. In the words of Trixie, the show must go on!"

Thanos action figure Spike fell out of his chair.

"Yes, yes!" Twilight beamed, her voice growing louder by the second. "More chapters, more scenarios! More, more!"

The rows upon rows of stand-ins for Spike shuddered as a whirlwind began to grow in the center of the room.

"Oh, there's so much to write about, Spike! I could bring back the simulation stories, or maybe introduce a new title character! Or perhaps, I could even write some more serious chapters every now and then!"

By now, the mare's horn was blazing with magical energy. A tornado of loose papers enveloped her as her laughter grew increasingly manic. "Yes, yes! I can write all the things, Spike! All the things! New universes, at the tip of my hooves! New faces that have never been seen before! Oh, there's so much to do, Spike!"

She whipped around and snatched a purple water bottle off the shelf, hastily sketching a face onto its surface. "Spike!" she shook the bottle violently. "Spike! You know what this means, right?"

The water bottle didn't respond.

"It means What If forever! Even if I meet my end someday, there will always be another to carry on my torch! No matter what, so long as curiosity stands and creativity runs free, there will always be another What If! It may not be called that, but they will exist! It won't matter if they take place in Equestria or if they take place in some far-off reality beyond our imaginations; it never mattered!"

Twilight opened the door to her office. She sipped her coffee as she watched her manic self continue to shout at the top of her lungs.

"Should we--" Spike tugged at a wing.

"No, let her be." Twilight turned around. "Twilight--I won't be forever, but the concept of writing alternate scenarios--no, the very practice of storytelling itself will live on. In this room lives Storyteller Twilight. I granted her a body and free will once I rose out of the slump I was once in. Though I myself no longer require the constant stream of endless creativity to merely keep myself from boredom, her spirit will still live on regardless."

"So what about her future? Or our future, for that matter?"

"We'll continue to exist for as long as we can, don't worry, Spike." Twilight pat her assistant with a wing. "So long as there continues to be an audience, we will continue to exist."

Spike looked around. "I don't see anyone else."

Twilight chuckled. "No, not a physical audience. Or at least, not physical to us. Our audience lies beyond our reality."

"Mmmyou're starting to sound like Pinkie, Twi."

Twilight shrugged. She backed away from the room, allowing the door to begin to close. "Regardless, my counterpart is right. There is still so, so much that can be written about."

That you can write about.

Keep being weirdos, and thanks for reading. 

Here's to another year of What Ifs, and maybe even a new beginning...