Even though the sun was shining, and the weather was lovely (something that never happened in Britain in reality), and the trouble free months on the North Western Railway...seriously, everything has been perfect for nearly a year! All the engines were being miserable sods, although nobody cared to because they were engines... (Racist b*****ds)

Long ago, a reverend would tell his ill son stories of the railway, and later decided to make a series of books these adventures. Then some more people decided to make a show out of those books, and in the process, creating a cash cow franchise worth one billion pounds.

This made all the engines happy to be part of something worth so much money, although all but one agreed that the franchise name needed an improvement. After all, a title like 'Thomas the Tank Engine' and later 'Thomas and Friends' got old quickly after the namesakes ego blew up to levels never before discovered by man, and that he would not shut up about how his name was worth one billion, while he himself was worth less than that...a lot less.

So for a long time, all the engines enjoyed their celebrity status, Thomas even planned to 'pimp' himself up to match his billion pound name (Thank God we are unable to see that!). Sure there were ups and downs...and one or two rough patches (*cough-cough* series 9-15 *cough-cough*)...and some creepy fan work (NOT including Rule 34! Eww!) . But that didn't stop the money pouring in by the truck load.

However, with all great things, it only takes one idiot to make that one decision that will balls it up. Enter, the Executive. The Executive is often a greedy creature, which is only motivated by one thing...money. It can smell money out of almost anything and will squeeze for maximum profit out of anything until it has dried up, where it will discard the carcass and move on in search of its next prey.

This particular Executive would go on to meddle with things beyond their comprehension, which is a lot. With the scent of money in their nostrils, the Executive then proceeds to milk the franchise dry. It starts by demanding more and more characters to appear in single episodes, then to disappear immediately afterwards. Next, it demands more strange and ridicules situations that can only be achieved by lowering the IQ of the characters. Followed by demanding that all scripts be simple, repetitive and talk down to the audience despite their boring simplicity. Finally, it demands mass production of overpriced, cheaply made, poor quality merchandise to rinse more money from parents.

A common mistake amongst executives is how smart they think they are compared to the customers, however many executives will back down if they catch whiff of their money supply of being harmed. Unfortunately, this Executive, ignores the mistakes of its predecessors, and pushes on with its bad decisions and enforces the stupidity of these decisions to the point only they remain.

As bad as the rough patches had been (*cough* series 9-15 *cough*), this Executive not only repeated the same mistakes, but was somehow able to amplify these mistakes to the point the rough patches looked smooth by comparison.

And so, the most horrific news to ever reach the engines of Sodor was announced: 'Thomas and Friends' was cancelled... (but somehow the idiot Executive kept his job!)

Everyone was upset, they had all lost their (varying degrees of) Celebrity Status. But no engine had ever more upset than Thomas the Tank Engine, his ego imploded in a metaphorical atomic cloud. It took many months of compassionate support from every engine to nurse and nurture his ego. Partly because they felt slightly (slightly mind you) sorry for him, but mostly because everyone on Sodor had had enough of the sleepless nights of listening to Thomas wail endlessly. Seriously, when he cries he's louder than BRIAN BLESSED!

Now the little blue sod had finally stopped wailing, the engines tried to get over the end of their celebrity careers and back to work.

At Knapford (because everything happens at Knapford), Percy, James and Gordon were waiting to depart with their trains. To pass the time, all three tried to have intelligent conversation. Keyword is tried there. In actuality, it was James vainly talking about how he looked in his red paint. Gordon grumbling about not pulling the express constantly and not getting enough respect to feed his ego, while Percy felt his intellect slowly slipping away thanks to years of clumsy accidents and the stupidity of the conversation he was trapped in.

PEEP PEEP

Immediately the conversation ended, and everyone let out a miserable groan, as Thomas the Formerly Famous Tank Engine pulled up into the station beside James, with Annie and Clarabelle, his coaches, which I'm assuming you know, because you're reading this.

"Hello everyone," said Thomas, wearing the fakest smile ever to exist.

"Thomas, I almost didn't know it was you, I didn't hear any crying," said Gordon, chuckling at his own wit.

"It's ok Gordon, I am very happy today," Thomas was bottling up all his negative emotions. It helped to block the cruel and evil being that was reality and let him pretend the heart breaking, ego crushing event never happened.

Sodor didn't have any therapists for engines, despite the obvious need for them.

"Humph, about time too!" spat James, "I looked disgusting without by beauty sleep. How am I to be the handsomest engine ever with bags under my eyes?"

Percy's mind barely registered Thomas' presence and quickly told him to smile. "Hello Thomas."

"Is everyone going to be Really Useful?" asked Thomas, still clinging to his illusion that everything was fine. Gordon and James just groaned in response.

HONK HONK

Tooted a bus from the over side of the Station building, the engines looked back (somehow), to see Bertie through an open section of the Station at the bus stop. The red bus had the silliest grin as if he had one the f*****g lottery.

"Morning engines," he had so much happiness in was sickening.

"Morning Bertie, it is a fine day to be picking up passengers," Thomas was beginning to become more detached from reality.

"It certainly is, and now it's even better, have you heard the news?" said Bertie.

"What news?" Gordon raised an eyebrow.

"They're making a new show on Sodor." Bertie wasn't the brightest thing on Sodor, because now he had just armed a ticking time bomb.

"REALLY?!" said Thomas the ticking time bomb, his mind returning to reality. "They're going to give me a new show."

"No, no," said Bertie, unaware of close he was to winning a Darwin award. "They're making a new show about us buses on Sodor."

Finally, Bertie's brain switched on and immediately began metaphorically kicking him for his stupidity. Three of the four engines threw him death glares so sharp they might as well have been knifes. Even Percy had recovered enough of his intellect to realise the hell Bertie had unleashed.

"Drive! DRIVE!" Bertie commanded his Driver. His driver closed the door, but ended up crushing an old lady with a walking stick.

"PUT YOUR FOOT DOWN SONNY, AND DRIVE!" The old lady was more concerned about her current location than her broken hips.

As Bertie roared away, the engines waited for the inevitable...

"BWAHAHAHAHAH...!"

Thomas cried so hard, tears flowed from his eyes like fountain across the platform and James.

"AH...STOP...MY MASCARAS...RUNNING!"

After two weeks of comforting, and for one engine, a regretful night in the shed. Thomas finally calmed down again. Edward was at Lower Suddery just as Bertie speed into station, possibly after avoiding another hit on his life. Edward noticed that he had a look on his face like a slapped arse.

"Morning Bertie, having a nice day?"

"What do you think?" replied Bertie. Well, that's not what he said exactly, but that was what Edward could make out from all the growling, snarling and cursing.

"Still getting more death threats for setting Thomas off again?" said Edward, he had heard all the angry threats from the other engines and even the passengers.

"Worse," Berties face had scrunched up into an even sourer look. "They chose the star of..."

He looked around for any sign of the little blue sod that would kick up a thunderstorm.

"...of our new show."

Edward resisted the attempt to sign; he never thought Bertie would have an ego as bad as Thomas, Gordon or James. "Sorry you're not the star," he said with false sympathy.

"That's not the problem, Edward!" said Bertie. "The problem is, of all the buses at the depot, on Sodor! They chose him!"

Edward was slightly confused (yes I couldn't believe it either). "Who? You mean Bulgy? I thought he changed!"

"Not Bulgy, believe it or not, this guys worse!"

"Who is he?" asked Edward, the idea of a bus worse than Bulgy, seemed to be about as impossible as The Fat Controller going on a diet.

"His name is Ronald," Bertie spat the name out as if it was poison.

"Who's Ronald?" asked Edward, unaware of the awful future that was about to descend.

AN/: This a collaboration story between me and ToonGuy, of Thomas Abridged fame, if you haven't read it, what are you doing? Hope you enjoyed this little opening.