It was a beautiful afternoon in Ponyville; the sun was shining, the clouds were fluffy, and for the first time in weeks, nobody was suffering a psychotic break or on the receiving end of one of the many abominations against nature haunting the surrounding countryside, though as two ponies stood in front of each other on a tranquil hillside, this unprecedented streak of good fortune was likely to change. Yes, as Big Macintosh carefully considered Twilight Sparkle's proposal, the odds of a psychotic break occurring in the very near future skidded inexorably towards 'inevitable'.
Twilight turned away from Big Mac, blushing so intensely that rays of pink shot through her purple coat. "So?" she said nervously; "Will you be my Very Special Somepony?" (In the sky above, a small bird suffered an uncontrollable fit of gagging and plummeted unceremoniously to its death.)
"Uh..." said Big Macintosh dumbly, unsure how to respond; over the past week of library dates, idyllic moonlit strolls, and surprise hugs, the possibility that the filly, perhaps, wanted to be more than just friends had never so much as occurred to him. As he pondered his options, he felt himself going to the Bad Place, the screams of countless innocents dead by his hooves filling his ears.
The world, unfortunately, will never know Big Mac's answer, for it was not two moments afterwards that a FUCKIN' HUGE INTERDIMENSIONAL MATTER-ANNIHILATION BURST erupted from a spacetime coordinate directly in between the two ponies, instantly reducing both of them as well as most of their surroundings to stray atoms and -- worse -- reducing Ponyville's male population by a good 20%.
Shortly afterwards, Mr Frog painfully dragged himself to the edge of the smoking crater, cursing whatever the hell Vanya had done or not done to make his most recent invention -- a portal-less portal device -- go so terribly, terribly wrong. Drat that Vanya and her inability to brew decent green tea! This was all her tea's fault, he was sure of it!
His blood ran cold as he surveyed his candy-coloured surroundings; he knew of only one place with such beatiful, vibrant scenery, yet the possibility was too horrible to even conceive of.
He was, by all appearances, in Equestria, home of ponies, friendship, and incredibly-disturbing fanart.
The guys in the Spearbreakers thread are gonna be SO PISSED.
Mr Frog realised he must arm himself against the dangers of this dread place, and so he reached into his jacket's myriad pockets and pulled out a SUPERSONIC SUPERBLASTER and also a can of CLOP REPELLENT (for those naughtier bronies). Birds chirped merrily in the trees as he slinked trepiditiously across the countryside towards the wretched hive of scum and villainy affectionately known as "Ponyville".
Mr Frog scurried through the pastel-coloured streets, hiding in things such as flowerpots and behind streetlamps in such a way that defied physics but would have made a mildly-amusing sight gag in an animated TV show. He couldn't afford to be seen. The Cult of Celestia was everywhere in this wretched village, waiting to indoctrinate anyone they found into their religion of magical friendship, and besides, ponies had terrible breath and loved small talk.
Finally, he saw his opening; one of the equine abominations left its house, bringing along its consort and several small spawn (AN: Not the spawn of holistic silly, that's what the hipster couple across the street has). Hardly daring to believe his luck, Mr Frog slithered unseen towards the unattended domicile; he yearned to be free of this twisted place -- the angles were all wrong. He rifled through his pockets for a lockpick for a few moments before growing tired of that bullshit and just blasting the motherfucking door down with his SUPERSONIC SUPERBLASTER, in an act that stealth specialists throughout the multiverse would later describe as "friggin' brillo, maaaaaan".
The sweet stench of fresh-baked apple pie assaulted Mr Frog's nostrils as he feverishly searched the house for any sort of reflective surface with which to enact his brilliant plan; finally, he found one: a mirror in a bathroom that looked and smelled as though it was thoroughly cleaned with all-natural biodegradable cleaning agents no less than twice a week. Looking at his rugged reflection in the mirror, Mr Frog crossed his eyes, held his arms above his head in an isoceles triangle and chanted: "Pinkie Pie, Pinkie Pie, Pinkie Pie!"
At once, the reflection in the mirror began to distort and the walls of the room rushed away into the infinite void, leaving Mr Frog face-to-face with a writhing pink abomination, its uncountable blackened hooves flailing and contorting into exotic shapes and its many mouths hissing in a thousand unspeakable tongues of parties, cupcakes, and other dark temptations. Its long, yellowed teeth chattered together beneath its flapping, fleshy lips. The smell of pastries and raw horseflesh permeated the air, making Mr Frog want to vomit.
"Pinkamena Diane Pie!" intoned Mr Frog, not taking his eyes off of the monstrosity or even blinking even as its unearthly visage burned his brain, for to look away from it for even a moment would spell his immediate and agonising demise; "I have called you here to make a deal!"
"Okie-dokie-Loki!" screeched the thing with its infinite piercing voices; "What can I do you for?"
"You will give me safe passage to Everoc!" ordered Mr Frog; realising that this gave the vile beast far too much room for intentional misinterpretation, he added: "You will deliver me and my current possessions directly to my room, unharmed, no more than 5 seconds from now, in such a manner as to not cause any degree of harm to myself or my surroundings at any point before or after my arrival!"
The eldritch goddess pondered this for a moment, trying to think of some hilarious way to twist it, before giving up and hissing, dejected: "Name your price, fleshling."
"The soul of my good friend Reudh," said Mr Frog without missing a beat, hoping that Pinkamena Diane Pie was one of the more gullible crimes against reality in the multiverse.
Pinkamena Diane Pie, fortunately, didn't even stop to think about it. "Sure thing!" she piped; "See ya around!"
Mr Frog felt a curious tugging sensation, and the emptiness around him became more profound as Pinkamena melted back into the void; soon, the familiar chaos of his room/laboratory/cavy torture chamber began to materialise around him. Mr Frog breathed a sigh of relief; he was home. Even better, he didn't smell horseflesh or cupcakes anymore, which was good, as Mr Frog had never been particularly-fond of cupcakes.
Suddenly, Mr Frog felt a horrible wrenching sensation, and his laboratory vanished. His guts twisted up as waves of minty-freshness wafted from behind him.
"I FINALLY FOUND YOU, FROG-KUN!" shrieked a totally-kawaii voice behind him.
Mr Frog wheeled around; the ectoplasmic form of Talvieno hovered in the void behind him, mutated into what was unmistakably the rare and beautiful SLADE-PLATED UBERMEGASPAWNSLASHERPHANTOM. Her six chainsaw arms flowed and danced gracefully in the ashen light of the infinite void.
"I WILL EAT YOUR SOUL FROGGIE-CHAN!" shrieked the Talvi-Spawn; "THEN WE CAN BE TOGETHER FOREVER DESU!"
Mr Frog, however, was totally not into this vore bullshit. "The hell you will!" he growled badassedly, firing his SUPERSONIC SUPERBLASTER directly at Talvieno's head, after which the SUPERSONIC SUPERBLAST ricocheted uselessly off the ectoslade plating and howling screaming into the void.
Well, fuck, thought Mr Frog.
"IT'S NOT BECAUSE I LIKE YOU OR ANYTHING DESU! TSUN!" screamed Talvi, after which she lunged at Frog, her four mouths opening hideously-wide to swallow his very existence.
Mr Frog, however, did not panic. Mr Frog is far too cool for that shit. Just as Talvi's fangs were about to sink into his soul and he could smell her minty-fresh breath panting for his manly musk, he quickly and calmly held up his CLOP REPELLENT and sprayed her squarely in the face.
Talvieno writhed in agony as the fast-acting formula burned her very psyche, scouring away every last romantic fantasy and carnal desire she felt for the man in front of her. In the end, her head cleared, she finally saw Mr Frog for what he was: an ugly, bespectacled, scrawny pygmy with a superiority complex and a friggin' sweet beard.
"YOU'RE LIKE TOTALLY UNKAWAII," she moaned; "IMMA SEE WHAT REUDH'S UP TO DESU."
"Sorry 'bout that," bubbled an infernal chorus of voices as Talvi's shade vanished and Mr Frog's room faded back into existence around him.
It was good to finally be home. Mr Frog felt like kissing the sweet ground, but he didn't; instead, he calmly cleaned up the remains of his experiment, dumped Vanya's inferior tea onto a dead houseplant (which immediately revived, angrier than ever), and sat at his desk, pondering his next move while Reudh's terrified screaming echoed through the halls.