The Cutting Room Floor

I exist. That's all there is to it, really. No past, no future, just here and now with an urge to serve. To serve. It is my purpose. It is my mantra. It is my creed. It is my destiny. My very existence. I open my eyes, gazing around the room slowly. A library. Fairly clean, well structure, shelves and shelves of books, row after row after row, and in the middle of it all; a purple little pony girl, standing sheepishly in front of me. Her smile is balanced precariously on the precipice of nervous and excitement. It was absolutely adorable, really.

"H, hello? Can you hear me?" She asked impishly. I nodded my head. That wonderful, adorable smile grew wider. She took a step back and bit at her lower lip shyly. I could feel her gaze playing across me, judging me. Sizing me up.

"AHEM. Hello. M, my name is Twilight Sparkle and I err, I, require, I mean, I need, uh, w, would you please like to help my library make?" She babbled, paused and blushed furiously. "I, I mean h, help me straighten up my library, please?" Twilight asked bashfully. It was an innocent question, which made me wonder why her cheeks had turned from purple to bright scarlet when she asked it. I nodded. Of course I would be happy to help her. This is my purpose. I am made to help. I took a step forward, marveling at how smoothly my body moved and followed commands issued to it. So far, existence had been rather thrilling. Sights, sounds, smells.