Hey guys. Welcome to a Thomas parody story which was written by me when I was feeling pretty bored. This idea came into my head, and I proceeded to write it out. Hope it's able to make you laugh. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Thomas the Tank Engine. It belongs to HIT Entertainment.


The Fat Controller pulled up in his car right where an enormous crowd had gathered, smiling to himself as he gazed through the windshield. So many people from all over the Island of Sodor had turned up to this important event that was held in his honour. He wasn't too surprised though. After all, he had provided an excellent service to these people since the railway had come into his possession. Well, actually, it had been his engines who had done all the work over the years. All he had done was told them what to do, what to pull and where to go. But he was still very happy to take the credit which he didn't really deserve - and what everyone here was about to witness was indeed going to be the biggest credit he was about to receive.

Switching off the engine of his car, the Fat Controller climbed out - which was quite a challenge for him to do, as he had to scrape his gigantic fat stomach against the frame of the driver's door. Once he had managed to struggle his way out, he slammed the door shut behind him and locked up the vehicle, then treaded heavily towards where the crowd were packed together. His eyes were fixed onto what they were gathered in front of; a tall shape that towered above them all, covered by a thin sheet. It was standing right before a set of buffers at the end of a railway line. It probably wasn't in the safest of places to be kept, but nobody was giving any thought of that. They were all too excited for the moment when this hidden object would be revealed to them for the first time. The Fat Controller sent his smile to the covered shape, knowing exactly what it was going to turn out to be - but still feeling very excited to see it. It had been created just for him, and everyone was there to see it.

"Here he comes!" a voice boomed loudly into a microphone. It was blaring from somewhere close to where the shape was standing. "The Fat Blob - I mean, Sir Topham Hatt!"

Freezing at what the person with the microphone had just called him - which caused the enormous crowd before him to explode with laughter - the Fat Controller clenched his fist angrily. A fierce glare spread deeply across his face, but when the crowd turned around to see him and began applauding loudly, his expression softened with surprise. It was amazing to see just how many people were clapping and cheering for him - but then again, of course they would. He was rich and famous, after all, and was the man who owned the railway they enjoyed travelling on. They could clap and cheer for him all they liked. He truly did deserve it - or at least, he thought he did, when all he did once he had given their engines their instructions for the day was sit lazily on the great big chair in his office. The only times he would leave it would be to call them 'really useful' once they finished a job, or to reprimand them if they misbehaved. It wasn't what one would normally have to do to be given a ceremony of credit like this with cheering crowds and what the shape under the cover was going to turn out to be, but the Fat Controller really did feel he deserved such praise.

Smiling once again upon being reminded how famous he was across Sodor, he made his way through the large, roaring crowd, stopping once he was standing right in front of them and was looking directly up at the covered-up object. He gazed at it with a glowing expression, now able to see that even with the sheet covering it, it appeared to be the very right shape. His arms were trembling from his thoughts of being only moments away of pulling the sheet from it, allowing this new and fantastic sight on the island to be revealed and to be admired for the first time.

The Fat Controller was too busy admiring the shape to realize that the person who had insulted him through the microphone was standing right next to him. It happened to be the Mayor of Sodor. With a smile over how the fat guest of honour was taking in the hidden object, he walked over to him, then tapped him on the shoulder so as to get him to focus on the crowd who were joining his excitement.

"Well, Sir Topham," he spoke into his microphone. "This must obviously be a very momentous occasion in your life. How does it feel to have so many people turn up to see your fat likeness?"

His attention attracted immediately by being publically insulted for a second time at the event, the Fat Controller turned to the Mayor with a glare and snatched the microphone away from him, spinning around on the spot to face the crowd before him. "Well, I'd just like to say," he blared into the device, "that I'm not surprised that so many people have turned up to this event that's being held in my honour, as they all love me so much, Mayor. I think everyone in this audience will agree with me that I do a better job of running my railway than you have ever done of running the country."

The crowd went wild with laughter and applauded, apparently agreeing with what the Fat Controller had just said. The Mayor frowned upon having his own turn to be insulted, but remained certain that what had just been said about him wasn't true. He took the microphone away from his new enemy, raising a hand above his head to silence the crowd. "Nice little joke there, Sir, but we really must get on with what we are all here for. We've been planning this event for weeks, which is the reason why taxes have gone up lately on Sodor."

The Mayor smirked to himself as he lowered the microphone, hoping the crowd would boo the Fat Controller for being the main reason why they had been paying more for their taxes than usual for the last couple of weeks. When they remained silent, however, waiting for him to unveil what they had gathered to see for the first time, he frowned in annoyance at them, firmly taking hold of a section of the cloth in his hand. "On a countdown from ten, we will see this...thingy for the first time. "Ten..."

"Nine..." The crowd all called together, intended to count backwards all the way down to one.

"Just show it to them!" the Fat Controller shouted, grabbing another section of the cloth himself and pulling on it firmly to cause the entire material to fall down from the object. It landed in a crumbled heap over the startled Mayor, covering him completely.

The crowd exploded into shouts and cheers again, this time from finally getting to see what had been hidden underneath the cloth. Great big flashes filled the atmosphere as people hurriedly took pictures with their cameras. The Fat Controller looked over his shoulder and gazed up at the object, smiling in amazement at what was towering over him, having been placed there to honour him and for everyone to see.

It was a large, stone statue of himself, which had been constructed with great care to look exactly like him. Even though it was in it's natural white colour, it was perfectly easy to tell it was the fat chump who ran the railway. There was no one else on Sodor who wore his trademark top hat - or had such an unbelievably round fat stomach. Everyone in the crowd knew it was the big fellow who stood before them, and they were cheering wildly upon seeing it being unveiled to them for the first time. The Fat Controller kept his eyes fixed for a few seconds onto the smiling expression that had been carved into the statue's face, then lowered his head to read what had been engraved onto a golden placard that had been nailed to the front the stone base.

SIR TOPHAM HATT

THE CONTROLLER OF THE RAILWAY

ALWAYS THERE TO TELL HIS ENGINES WHAT TO DO

While the Fat Controller was proudly admiring what had been created as a tribute to him with the crowd cheering loudly for him, the Mayor crawled out from underneath where the sheet had fallen on him. Amongst all the applauding, he could hear a few people laughing loudly at what had just happened to him. Feeling humiliated, he could feel his anger burning inside him like water in an engine's boiler. He furiously picked himself up, then held his microphone in a tight grip to his mouth, which he forced into a smile that was directed at the Fat Controller. "Well, Sir, what do you think of the statue of you which everyone is here to see for the first time? I think it looks just like you. They even got the level of fatness in your stomach just right."

The Fat Controller shot the Mayor a shocked expression, unable to believe the man was not afraid to insult him on the spot in front of the large crowd (who had all stopped cheering and were now laughing at him again). What right did he have? Just because he ran the country, that did not mean he was free to make him, Sir Topham Hatt, feel like just a fat person who everyone could make fun of, not thinking once of everything he - or more correctly, his engines - had done for them.

Unwilling to take any more of this treatment on his special day, the Fat Controller glared and snatched the microphone angrily out of the Mayor's hand. He was about to yell something at him which would have surely shut everyone up immediately - if something hadn't done that already. Before he could shout anything, the Fat Controller froze, realizing that a deafening noise was suddenly whooshing into his ears, and that the crowd were no longer laughing or even cheering. Hesitating, his expression fell as he listened in alert to the sounds which reached them from somewhere nearby, needing a few seconds to realize what they were as they grew louder.

A familiar whistle blasting endlessly and a set of wheels screeching along rails.

Only now remembering that the event was being held at the end of the railway line, the Fat Controller gulped and leaned to the side slightly to peer nervously past the statue - his face quickly filling with horror when he realized what was in the distance, approaching his stone likeness at an incredible speed.

Further up the line, Thomas was racing out of control in terror towards the end of the line. A long line of trucks were coupled behind him, pushing him unstoppably towards the set of buffers before the statue, all laughing loudly as they listened to his frightened cries for help. Inside his cab, his driver was frantically pulling on the lever for the brakes in the hopes they would bring the train to a stop (only for the brakes to actually be worn out and unable to slow Thomas' wheels down) while the fireman was keeping his hand gripped firmly onto the chain above him so as to keep the whistle blaring, warning anyone near the tracks to keep out of the way of danger. Up ahead, Thomas could see the shape of the statue getting bigger and closer as he neared the buffers with each second - and he knew if he didn't stop, he was going to crash right into it.

"HELP!" Thomas screamed desperately. "I CAN'T STOP!"

"ON! ON! ON!" The silly trucks yelled to each other, increasing the speed they were pushing Thomas at so that the crash they were going to treat him to would be enormous.

"THOMAS IS RACING DOWN HERE!" the Fat Controller yelled urgently, spinning around to shoot the terrified look on his face towards the alerted crowd. "HE'S GONNA CRASH INTO MY STATUE!"

Everyone in the crowd gave a shriek of terror - not because of what they had gathered to see was going to be destroyed, but because they realized their own lives were in danger. They didn't care anymore about the Fat Controller's statue, and they weren't a bit bothered it was going to be no more. All the could think of was that where they all stood was were their lives were in great risk. Oddly though, they didn't do anything to save themselves.

The Mayor, realizing that everybody had to move that second before they would all be killed, quickly held the microphone to his mouth to scream his vital commands to them, trying to be heard over the sound of Thomas' whistle and brakes. "WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR, YOU STUPID FOOLS! GET AWAY FROM THE STATUE BEFORE THOMAS HITS! NOW!"

Without a moment to wonder why they hadn't thought themselves to move, everyone in the crowd raced away from where they stood, still screaming in terror. While the Mayor sprinted away from the statue himself, the Fat Controller remained where he was, gazing up at the statue in horror. He couldn't believe that everyone who had gathered here to see his statue was now only thinking about themselves instead - but his thoughts soon changed when he saw how close to the end of the line Thomas now was. If he stayed beside the statue - no matter how much he loved it - then it would not be the only thing that would end up in pieces in only a few seconds.

"HELP!" Thomas cried fearfully as he continued to thunder unstoppably towards the buffers and the statue he was about to smash into. "HELP! HELP! HELP! HELP! HEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLP!"

With no other choice, the Fat Controller leaped away from the statue and out of Thomas' path - just in time.

After crunching the buffers, Thomas crashed fiercely through the statue with a scream and destroyed it completely, sending broken pieces of it flying everywhere as he fell from his wheels and onto his side. The booming thudding sound of him hitting the ground was joined by crunching as the trucks bumped into each other, breaking up into pieces in the process. All the chaos that was going led to even louder shrieks escaping from people in the crowd, who had to duck down in their terror as debris from the statue flew lethally over their heads. One large chunk even went through the windscreen of The Fat Controller's car, smashing it to pieces and setting off the alarm immediately. Being in too much danger to think of how much he would have to pay to get the windscreen repaired, the fat guy dove forward with a frightened cry to avoid being struck by one large piece of debris, feeling his top hat fly off his head and finding himself landing in a wobble on his enormous fat stomach.

When all the mayhem had finally ceased, every person in the crowd stopped screaming and managed to calm themselves down. One person even stretched his arm through the broken windscreen of the Fat Controller's car to switch off the alarm (and also to steal some money that had been hidden away in the glove compartment). Everyone was looking in their shock towards Thomas. He was groaning in pain, lying on his side where the statue had just been standing with huge dents in his smokebox, funnel, boiler, buffers and running board. His driver and fireman were lying beside him on their friend, having both been thrown out of his cab when he had crashed and suffering with broken limps all over, but two of them being fortunate enough avoid being crushed when he had fallen onto his side. Too many life-threatening moments had just been happening for them to see what Thomas had in his terror, which had been that he had crashed straight through a statue of the Fat Controller.

The fat fellow himself had only just managed to get off his giant stomach. Now that he was up on his knees, he noticed in that a piece of debris was lying near him on the ground, having landed where his hat had first and crushing it completely. Usually, the Fat Controller would have been furious to see his trademark piece of clothing becoming completely ruined yet again - but it was what had just happened to his statue that was sending him into horror. Unwilling to believe that it had just been destroyed completely by Thomas, he shook his head frantically with a distraught, desperate, upset expression on his face. He grabbed the piece of stone and held it up fearfully to turn over in his hands - and when he saw in his shock that he was holding the smiling face of his smashed-up statue, he couldn't help himself; he started to cry, not caring that a huge crowd was watching him. They were all baffled at the sight of Sir Topham Hatt in tears, something which they found truly ridiculous to see. A few men in the crowd began snickering amongst themselves - but they shut up immediately when the Fat Controller stopped sobbing long enough to hurl the piece of the statue in his hands at them. The entire crowd went silent in fear, all terrified over how lethal the fat man in front of them could be when angered. Even the Mayor was shocked by what he had seen, and although his horrified expression was fixed towards where the Fat Controller was kneeling, his kept his lips sealed shut, not daring to let out another insult over how fat he was.

The Fat Controller sent the deep, frightening glare on his face towards the petrified crowd for a little longer, then he turned to fire it directly at Thomas. "STUPID, STUPID ENGINE!" he screamed furiously, picking up another large piece of debris that lay near him and throwing it as hard as he could at the little engine.

"Ow!" Thomas cried in pain as the piece of stone bounced violently off his boiler, giving him another great big dent for him to feel more agony. "It wasn't my fault, Sir! The trucks were pushing me! I couldn't stop-"

"Thomas, it was entirely your fault!" the Fat Controller yelled unfairly, not willing to pass any blame to anyone other than the one who had destroyed his statue. "You know to stop when you see buffers at the end of the line! But you stupidly decided to keep going, didn't you?"

"No, Sir! I-"

"You've ruined my special day! You've turned what was a wonderful ceremony just for me into a horrible disaster! And most of all ... you've destroyed my statue!"

The Fat Controller angrily picked up another piece of broken stone that was lying on the ground, and threw it as hard as he could to make it hit Thomas' smokebox. He didn't care how much pain he was hurting him, for he felt he had every right to after what he had just done (despite truly not meaning to). "You will not leave the sheds for four months!" he bellowed, pointing with his long fat arm down towards Thomas' scrunched-up face full of pain. "And while you're in there, I want you think about what you have done and how much you have upset me, Thomas!"

Thomas looked up at the Fat Controller in shock and growing sadness over what he had just been told. He was not going to leave the sheds for four months? That wasn't fair. He hadn't meant to destroy the statue, and he wasn't even the one to blame. Now he was in for what was going to be a punishment that would make him so miserable - when it wasn't even his fault.


Though time passed, Thomas' low mood did not change. Since destroying the Fat Controller's statue, he had been repaired and looked as good as new, but he was starting to think that if he stayed in the sheds to do nothing to much longer, he would eventually rust into a pile of scrap. He hadn't been out on the tracks for weeks, and he still had a very long way to go before his punishment was over. The enormous blob in a tip hat had been determined to make him so unhappy - and it had barely taken more than a few hours of the first day he had spent stuck in the shed for him to become so miserable.

The big engines were very unsympathetic.

"The Fat Controller has gone into a state of depression now, thanks to you, Thomas," grumbled Henry. "I'm fed up of him coming to give us our orders for the day in that moany, pathetic, creepy voice he's been speaking in for a while. It gets on my nerves."

"I can't believe you actually went ahead and crashed through the Fat Controller's statue," Gordon muttered, unimpressed. "I would never allow myself to do that. It wouldn't be dignified." He paused, the frown which was on his face deepening. "Well, then again, I wouldn't even allow the Fat Controller to make me pull trucks in the first place."

"Why did it even have to be a statue of the Fat Controller anyway?" whined James poutily. "It should have been a statue of me; the most splendid red engine on the island!"

"Good idea, James!" Percy remarked with a cheeky grin. "Then everybody would be cheering when they'd see Thomas smash it to pieces!"

"Pah!" scoffed James. "They wouldn't allow anything to smash a statue of me! They'd put up some sort of transparent shield which would stop anything from destroying it, yet would allow everyone and see how it looks like the amazing real me!"

Thomas sighed unhappily, looking down at his shiny newly-added buffers which hadn't a chance to biff any trucks yet. He was certain that he too would go into a state of depression and start speaking in a creepy, weird voice. It was maddening and upsetting to be unable to leave the sheds and have the big engines digging heartlessly into him - all because of an accident that had been literally out of his control.


What Thomas was unaware of what he was stuck in the sheds was that since the wreckage of his accident had been cleared away and a second set of buffers had been secured on the end of the line, a new statue had been placed on the very spot where the old one had been destroyed. There had not been a great big ceremony for the public to attend when it had been placed there, but the people of Sodor all knew about this new statue and what it was meant to remind them of.

For instead of being another statue of the Fat Controller (which the Sodor Carving Company couldn't bothered to construct a second time), the new statue which stood at the end of the line happened to be one of Thomas. It stood exactly where the original one once had, looking very accurate to the little engine who had crashed there. Only its natural stone colour which hadn't been painted made it clear that it wasn't a real engine, despite the fact the carvers had worked very hard to make it look like one. On the front of where they had carved its face, they had given the statue a miserable expression. They had learnt exactly how Thomas had felt had when he had destroyed the old statue and had taken a lot of pain from the Fat Controller throwing pieces of it at him. Nailed to the front side of its large stone base was a new golden placard. Like the old one, lettering had been engraved to tell anyone who would read it who the statue was of - as well as what nearly everyone on the island thought of him now.

THOMAS THE TANK ENGINE

THE ENGINE WHO DESTORYED THE FAT CONTROLLER'S STATUE

ALWAYS THERE TO RUIN A GOOD PUBLIC EVENT WHEN IT'S GOING SO WELL!

Apparently, nobody had learnt how silly it was to decide to have a statue stand at the end of a railway line.

But fortunately, no one was anywhere near the statue when Gordon fearfully found himself racing towards it one day, out of control and unable to stop himself as his train of trucks pushed him to where it stood...


Well, thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed the story - though I'm sorry if it wasn't that good. :P

Bye now!