//------------------------------//
// Four 
// Story: Six Seconds Left 
// by Taialin 
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. . . You're joking. You're joking, right? Me, death? There is no way. I'm too awesome to die, and I've got too much left to do anyway. Death can kiss my sorry butt and run away with its tail between its legs!

. . . It's not going away, is it? Go away! Nopony wants you here!

But that's just not fair! Yeah, sure, I made it into the Wonderbolt's reserves, passed the screening test, stood in for Wind Rider, and finally became an active member of the Wonderbolts, but I'm not finished yet! What about that routine I was going to pitch to Spitfire, or that Canterlot-to-Cloudsdale record I was going to break? And this is just gonna take all of that away!? All that work that I put in, down the drain. And I'm never gonna have the chance to do any of that. You have got to be kidding me.

I still need to reconcile with my parents again. They came to the training camp that one time, but I never got the chance again to catch them up on things they missed, or catch up on things I missed. I was going to meet up with 'Shy and take them out to eat or see a show on my off time, and now those plans are all gone. The things they never knew about me, and the folks I never got to know . . .

And Scoots, I was planning to teach her all these awesome moves. Once I got her in the air for more than a few seconds, at least. And the plans for new weather management, and so many other things that I just can't think of because YOU'RE TELLING ME NONE OF THAT MATTERS ANYMORE.

That is just so wrong. If you could have picked anyone, pick somepony who didn't have as much planned. Pick someone who was already finished with their life. You're telling me that I'm gonna die and there's nothing I can do about it. You can still kiss my sorry butt goodbye, 'cause that is a load of horseapples.