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The Best Medicine · FiM Minific ·
Organised by RogerDodger
Word limit 400–750
The Frog of Love
“You’re sick,” said Snips while staring at his friend. “What got into you? Did you eat anything weird over the last couple of days?”

“I can’t eat,” moaned Snails. “She’s all I can think about.” The lovesick unicorn colt prodded at his lunch spread out across the picnic table and shoved his sandwich over to Snails’ side of the table. “Here, take my peanut butter and lilac sandwich. I don’t want it. I’m going to walk over there and tell her how I feel. Any minute now.”

“Well, hurry up,” said Snails. “Lunch is going to be over soon, and Miss Cheerilee has us doing fractions this afternoon.” He glanced at the object of Snails’ desire, a radiant pink earth pony filly chattering away with several other small fillies as they proceeded to devour their own lunches while gossiping.


“Back me up here.” Snails took a deep breath and held it. “I’m going to do it. I’ve got to tell her or I’m going to explode.”

“Can I have your butterfly collection?” asked Snips.

“I don’t care. Anything I have is yours, buddy. You’re my best friend in the world. All I ask is one thing.”

“What?” asked Snips through the peanut butter of his newly-acquired sandwich.

“Give me a push.”

“Why?” Snips swallowed the enormous mouthful of sandwich he was chewing and washed it down with a sip out of Snails’ juice box. “You’re not paying any attention to my suggestions. I mean, you got her multiflower roses instead of putting a frog in her saddlebag like any normal colt. You even wrote her a poem!”

“Roses are red, so are these too, I got you some roses for you,” said Snails with a distant look. “I thought it up by myself. And I picked the best roses I could find out of her dad’s garden.”

“They are pretty good,” said Snips, “but you nibbled almost all of them off while waiting. About all you have left is stems, and they’re not very tasty.”

“That doesn’t matter! She’s going to see how much work I put into picking them and be so impressed that I’ll be her special somepony. I even remembered to make sure to keep the aphids and the ladybug where she can admire them. Right there. Or maybe there?” Snails rotated the ragged bouquet in his magic and examined it. “I thought I had a slug in here too.”

“I’m tellin’ you buddy, frogs are the way to attract the mares,” said Snips. “Remember the way Dinky squealed when she found that frog in her desk last week?”

“Oh, yeah.” Snails got a faraway look on his face and grinned. “I’ve never seen such a high jump before. Cleared three desks.”

“The frog jumped pretty high too,” added Snips. “She told me later that she knew it was me and that if I ever did that again, she’d beat my face in.” He sighed. “That was so much fun. I can hardly wait to see what she’s going to try in return.”

“Diamond’s not really a frog pony like Dinky,” said Snails. “She’s into fancy stuff like tea and tiny little cakes.”

Snips gasped. “But what about frogs? You love hunting frogs with me. If she doesn’t like frogs, she won’t go frog hunting with us. It’s just not the same without you, buddy.”

“It has to be now, Snips. I’m going to go do it! Wish me luck!”

Snips watched his friend march over towards the small knot of giggling fillies while he finished the last of Snails’ sandwich. He winced at the appropriate points in the resulting conversation, nodded sadly at the foreordained result, and trudged over to Snails once the bell rang to announce the end of the lunch hour.

“Not good, eh?”

Rising out of the mud puddle, Snails struggled to his hooves and spit out a pebble. “No.”

“I’m telling you, Snails. Frogs.” Snips helped his friend out of the puddle and brushed a little of the mud off his coat even though it only redistributed the mud over twice as many little colts.

“Frogs?” asked Snails.

“Frogs,” said Snips. “The more, the better. If we get started right after school is over, I figure we can slip about a hundred of them through her window tonight. Trust me. She’ll love it.”

Snails considered the concept while Cheerilee waved encouragement to them from the schoolhouse door. “You’re right, Snips. That would make me feel better.”
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