Chapter One: The Racing Car
"Come...on!" groaned Thomas, heaving with all his might. "Get moving!"
The little blue tank engine was attempting to push a line of oil tankers in Knapford Yard. Gordon sat smugly beside him, grinning with amusement.
"Oh dear, Thomas!" he laughed. "That must be too many trucks for a little tank engine like you. Perhaps you'd like some help from a bigger engine!"
"I don't need any help!" retorted Thomas. "These trucks are just being difficult. I'm more than capable of doing this by myself!"
The tankers had let their brakes slip on, and they giggled maniacally as Thomas tried to push them.
"Come on, Thomas! Just a little harder!" cackled one of them.
"Gordon's right. We want a bigger engine!" complained another.
Gordon chortled haughtily to himself.
"Laugh if you like, Gordon," huffed Thomas, "but I'm capable of much more than you think. I earned my own branch line, didn't I? And who knows, maybe one day I'll get to see the world!"
"See the world? Don't be ridiculous, Thomas! You're starting to sound just like you did when you first arrived!"
Thomas' wheels spun in frustration as he continued to try to move the tankers.
"Why shouldn't I? There are railways all around the world! And I know engines from around the world thanks to the Great Railway Show. I could go to India and visit Ashima!"
At that moment, the tankers released their brakes, shooting themselves and Thomas suddenly forward.
"Woaaaah!" cried Thomas as he sped through the yard.
And before he could get a chance to apply his brakes, the tankers smashed into some crate wagons. The trucks had derailed and the crates were everywhere.
"Nice going." said a workman unenthusiastically. "Took me all bloody morning to load those."
Gordon was laughing hysterically.
"Why on Sodor would the Fat Controller want to send one of his engines, much less a little tank engine like you who can't even shunt properly, around the world?"
Thomas seethed with fury as he backed away from the mess.
"Take a look around you, Thomas." continued Gordon. "This is your world!"
Luckily, Harvey just so happened to be in the yard, and got to work cleaning up the mess in no time. Thomas just sighed as the yard manager reprimanded him for being so careless.
"Might as well make yourself useful for once and fetch my coaches." ordered Gordon snootily as he rolled away to the station platform.
"One of these days…" grumbled Thomas, "I'll teach that bossy boiler a lesson."
Just then, Stafford rolled up worriedly.
"What's the matter, Stafford?" asked Thomas.
"Oh dear...those fish vans over there are supposed to be at Vicarstown. James took the Flying Kipper last night and didn't bother to stop there."
"Typical of James to cut corners with jobs he doesn't like."
"I'd take them myself, but I'm not sure if my battery would let me get that far."
Just then, a naughty idea flew into Thomas' funnel.
"I can take care of them for you!"
"What about your branch line train?" puzzled Stafford. "I mean, it's awfully kind of you to offer though."
"No problem at all! I have my ways." chuckled Thomas.
Stafford was too busy to elaborate further, so he just gave in.
"Alright then…" he said, and rolled away.
"All aboard!" announced Gordon's guard shortly before blowing his whistle.
Gordon proudly blew his own and departed Knapford Station.
"Express coming through!"
Unbeknownst to him, Thomas had coupled the fish vans behind his coaches. Thomas smirked with triumph as he rolled up to the platform with Annie and Clarabel.
"Is Gordon pulling...fish trucks?" said Annie.
"Those fish trucks need to be taken to Vicarstown, and that's where Gordon is headed!" smirked Thomas. "Why take the slow train when you can catch the express?"
"Very clever indeed!" remarked Clarabel, and all three giggled cheekily.
James was passing Gordon as he arrived at Knapford with his passengers.
"Fancy leaving your smelly fish in the yard next to my coaches." sniffed Gordon. "That's no proper way for a railway to run."
James just rolled his eyes. But then he noticed the vans behind Gordon's coaches, and Thomas grinning from buffer to buffer.
"Fish express coming through!" Thomas joked.
"Nice one, Thomas!" chuckled James as he pulled into the platform. "Serves him right!"
Meanwhile, on the mainland, the Flying Scotsman was on his way to the Island of Sodor with a train full of tourists. He was making good time, and the passengers were singing his praises. He hummed a tune proudly as he sped down the line. Just then, he heard a shrill horn blast from behind him.
"'Scuse me, mate!" came a voice with a heavy Australian accent.
The LNER Pacific looked back to see a sleek yellow automobile with the number 43 racing on the road beside him.
"Is this the way to the Island of Sodor?"
"Yes, but only if you're a railway engine." replied Flying Scotsman importantly.
"I see." said the car. "Say, aren't you the world famous Flying Scotsman?"
"Indeed I am." beamed the Scotsman proudly.
"Pleasure to meet you, mate! My name's Ace. You're one of the fastest engines in the world! But if I read correctly, you placed fourth in the race at the Great Railway Show."
Flying Scotsman wasn't beaming anymore.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I say, Scott, not one of your best moments, that was. Although I'd be thrown off my game too if I watched my brother overheat like that."
Flying Scotsman was speechless.
"What are you still even doing here?" he said at last. "You'll have to go back to find the road bridge."
"Too late for that, mate." laughed the racecar. "Looks like I'll have to improvise!"
"Whatever do you mean-"
But before Flying Scotsman could say another word, the car swerved off the road, over the bank, and onto the track beside him. The big engine gazed in shock, trying to process what he had just witnessed.
"Where do you think you're going?" he scowled.
"I'm going over the railway bridge." declared Ace. "Where do you think I'm going?"
"This is very unsafe, you know! Get off the tracks!"
Ace just ignored him as they approached the Vicarstown Bridge. But there was trouble ahead; Sidney was coming up the line with a goods train - headed right for him! He was singing a little song to help remember where he was going, as the little diesel could be rather forgetful.
"Ha ha ha, hee hee hee,
A very special job for me!
Across the bridge, to the mainland,
Arrive at Barrow and I'll be grand!"
Then he heard Flying Scotsman whistling frantically.
"Look out! LOOK OUT!"
Sidney looked ahead to see Ace racing over the bridge towards him.
"Huh?"
Instead of slowing down, Ace picked up speed.
"Ha ha ha!" he laughed madly.
"Whoaaaa!" cried Sidney, and both he and Flying Scotsman slammed on their brakes. They shut their eyes, waiting for the crash. But it didn't happen. Instead, Sidney felt the brief spin of tires against his side. Ace had managed to tilt himself sideways, squeezing in between Sidney and the bridge barrier completely unharmed.
"Mind yourself, mates!" said Ace. "Wouldn't want to blow a gasket over nothing!"
And he laughed as he sped across the tracks and back onto road on the Island of Sodor.
Sidney finally opened his eyes to find himself and the Flying Scotsman stopped on the bridge in awe.
"What just happened?" exclaimed Flying Scotsman.
"I don't know…" groaned Sidney.
He took a long pause.
"...what am I doing again?"
Toby the Tram Engine had stopped at a level crossing on Thomas' branch line. He was taking workmen from the Ffarquhar Quarry home for the day in his coach, Henrietta. He waited patiently as Bertie the bus crossed the tracks.
"Afternoon, Toby!" he said cheerfully.
"Good afternoon, Bertie." responded Toby just as cheerfully.
After a few more minutes of waiting, the crossing gates began to open, clearing the way for Toby to carry on. But before they had finished closing, a streak of yellow sped valiantly through the crossing. Toby was quite surprised.
"What was that?" he exclaimed.
Henrietta made out a car speeding down the road away from them.
"It looks like a car!" she replied.
"That car was going faster than any car I've ever seen." remarked Toby.
"Must be a racing car then." Henrietta chuckled. "But whatever is it doing on Sodor?"
Bertie hadn't gotten very far ahead when he heard a shrill horn behind him. Startled, he swerved to the side of the road, giving the car just enough room to pass.
"Coming through!" shouted Ace as he rocketed past Bertie.
"Hey! Excuse me!" exclaimed Bertie crossly.
Ace drifted around a sharp bend to find Thomas up ahead pulling his afternoon passenger train. He increased speed excitedly. Clarabel spotted the little yellow car quickly approaching them behind.
"Ooh! Who's that?"
"Who's what?" said Annie.
"That car!" replied Clarabel. "He's going very fast!"
Ace reduced his speed level to Thomas'. Thomas was amazed to see him on the road beside him.
"Hello!" he greeted. "Are you a racing car?"
"That's right, mate!" Ace replied proudly. "One of the best from down under!"
"Down under?"
"That means he's from Australia, Thomas." said Annie.
"Oh, of course!" chuckled Thomas. "Want to race to the next station?"
Annie and Clarabel gasped as they realized what they had just gotten themselves into. Ace just chortled.
"What, a little car like me against a big strong tank engine like you? I don't see why not."
"No, Thomas!" begged Annie.
"We can barely hold on when you race Bertie!" pleaded Clarabel.
Ace revved his engine daringly.
"On your mark…get set…"
But before he could finish, Thomas jolted ahead, with Annie and Clarabel wailing in tow.
"Child's play…" smirked Ace.
He quickly caught up to Thomas again.
"GO!"
And with that, Ace shifted into overdrive, leaving Thomas in the dust. But Thomas was too amazed to be cross.
"Wow...did you see that?"
Thomas pulled into Ffarquhar to find Ace showing off. He was spinning around in circles, much to the amusement of the passengers on the platform.
"You're the coolest car I've ever met!" he exclaimed. "I wish I could spin around in a circle!"
"You mean a 360, mate?" boasted Ace. "Well, what's stopping you?"
"These rails…" sighed Thomas. "I can't go anywhere without them. What are you doing on Sodor anyway?"
"I'm here to catch a ship." replied Ace. "The other cars left from London while I needed some inspection. I'm on the way to the next rally in my world tour."
"World tour?" gasped Thomas. "Wow! I've always wanted to go around the world!"
"Then why don't ya?" sneered Ace. "There are railways in other countries, you know."
"Because I have a job to do here on my branch line. The Fat Controller would probably never allow such a thing."
"That's a bummer." said Ace. "There are so many adventures out there just waiting to happen! I just finished a cross-country rally across Europe."
"Well, I have been on the mainland before." Thomas recalled. "Once I went to London with the other famous engines of Sodor. And last year, I participated in the Great Railway Show, where I met lots of other engines from different countries. And just a few months ago, I took a goods train to Bridlington, although I never actually made it there..."
"Really?" laughed Ace. "What happened?"
"I ended up at a Steelworks and was held there against my will by two sociopathic engines…"
"Well I haven't met any sociopaths on my travels. There's much more to the world than Great Britain has to offer."
"I'd love to go to countries I've never been to before." lamented Thomas.
"You should do it then!" encouraged Ace. "Free and easy, that's my motto. You could become the first railway engine to go all the way around the world!"
"Maybe I will someday…" sighed Thomas.
"Anyway, I've gotta run." said Ace. "Gotta find a place to stay tonight so I can be up bright and early to catch my ship tomorrow morning!"
And with that, he sped off.
"See the world?" said Annie. "Don't be silly, Thomas."
"Who will look after our passengers if you go out and see the world?" added Clarabel.
"I'm sure Bertie will be able to manage just fine." said Thomas.
"What about Bertie?" said a voice.
Thomas looked back to see Bertie pulling into the station.
"Oh, nothing." Thomas replied quickly. "Have you met that new racecar by the way? From Australia? He just left."
"Oh, we've met…" grumbled Bertie.
On the other end of the island, Flying Scotsman was telling Spencer about his encounter with Ace at Vicarstown.
"And then he drove onto the tracks and nearly ran into that forgetful diesel shunter! Just who does he think he is anyway?"
"He's a pretty big deal, apparently." replied Spencer. "I've heard of him. He's one of the fastest cars in Australia."
"Why would you even care about that sort of thing, dear cousin?" snorted Scott.
"The fastest engine in the world needs to know his competitors…"
Just then, Gordon's whistle was heard as he entered Vicarstown junction.
"Well well, would you look who it is!" chortled Spencer.
"Hello, little brother!" greeted Flying Scotsman teasingly.
Gordon was less than pleased to see his brother and cousin, who would often try to make him feel inferior.
"Hello…" he muttered.
Then, the smell hit. Flying Scotsman and Spencer winced in disgust.
"Oh!" groaned Spencer. "Whatever is that terrible smell?"
"Is it you, Gordon? Are you pulling the Flying Kipper today?" teased Scott.
"Whatever are you talking about?" puzzled Gordon.
"It looks like he is!" said Spencer, noticing the vans. "There are fish trucks at the back of your coaches!"
"Fish trucks?" cried Gordon. "FISH TRUCKS?"
Flying Scotsman and Spencer burst into laughter while the passengers in the rear coaches emerged, gasping for fresh air.
"This is a terrible railway!" complained a particularly grumpy passenger with a large mustache. "What kind of express would transport fish?"
Gordon went red in the face with embarrassment.
"Oh, the indignity…how could this have happened?"
"I'd ask whoever shunted your coaches!" guffawed Flying Scotsman.
Gordon suddenly connected the dots.
"THOMAS!" he yelled.
"Oh, he got you, cousin!" laughed Spencer.
Gordon seethed with fury as Flying Scotsman and Spencer continued laughing heartily.
That evening, as Thomas pulled into Knapford with his last train of the day, he noticed the Fat Controller standing outside his office. He immediately saw an opportunity.
"Good evening, sir!" he greeted innocently.
The Fat Controller jumped and looked up from his clipboard.
"Oh! Uh...good evening, Thomas."
"I wanted to ask you a question."
"Well I'm very busy at the moment, so you'll have to make it quick."
"You know how the engines at the Great Railway Show come from railways from across the world?"
"Yes…" responded the Controller curiously. "...what makes you bring this up?"
"Well," Thomas continued eagerly, "How would you feel if one of your engines were to visit those other railways? Get a chance to go all around the world?"
"Around the world?" scoffed the Controller. "That certainly is an interesting idea, Thomas. Do you think that you'd be able to do this?"
"You do know how I've always wanted to see the world, ever since I first arrived!"
"Well that sounds like quite an adventure, Thomas." the Fat Controller marveled. "Only, you're needed here to work on your branch line."
"I'm sure Percy and Toby can manage." Thomas persisted. "And you have so many engines already."
"True as that is, they're all quite busy as is. In fact, I'm in need of two new engines right now, but I've only the money for one."
Thomas knew his idea was far-stretched, but kept going on.
"Remember how Douglas found Oliver on the mainland as he was about to be scrapped? Well, perhaps if I were to go to another country, I could find another engine there!
"Well Thomas, perhaps I'd let you if you can find an efficient way to travel the world. But until then, I need you here. You are the number one engine, after all."
Thomas sighed disappointedly, but was also intrigued by the idea of a new engine.
"Alright, sir, I understand. What kind of engines are you looking at by the way?"
"Well, I've got my eye on a West Country class from the Southern Railway on the mainland." explained the Fat Controller. "She'd be a new tender engine to handle mixed traffic, seeing as Henry's been quite busy at Vicarstown. I'm also looking at tank engines, but they've gotten rather expensive lately. We really need both right now, but I'll only have enough to be able to purchase the tender engine by autumn-"
The Fat Controller was interrupted by Gordon thundering into the station, wheeshing steam furiously.
"Thomas!" he bellowed. "How dare you! Fish trucks at the back of my coaches! It's disgraceful! It's disgusting! It's-"
"What on earth are you talking about, Gordon?" said the Fat Controller.
"Thomas coupled fish trucks to the back of my express coaches! Oh, that's what he's done!"
"Fish trucks?" startled the Fat Controller. "Explain yourself, Thomas."
"Well…" Thomas began to explain sheepishly, turning red in the face.
"Oh dear…" groaned Annie and Clarabel.
"...those fish trucks needed to be in Vicarstown since the Flying Kipper didn't deliver them last night."
The Fat Controller lowered his brow.
"Seeing as Gordon was headed there, I thought it would be useful if I-"
"The stench made the passengers complain!" fumed Gordon. "They're all saying what a bad railway this is!"
"Oh dear, oh dear…" groaned the Fat Controller, burying his face in his palms. "Thomas, handling the Flying Kipper is not your job! Even though the fish got to Vicarstown, you've caused more confusion in its place. Now I'll have to deal with all the angry passengers."
"I'm sorry, sir…" Thomas replied sadly. "I only wanted to be useful-"
"Rubbish!" sniffed Gordon. "He was obviously trying to get back at me for saying he was too small to travel the world-"
"ENOUGH!" boomed the Fat Controller. "Both of you be quiet and just finish your work for the day. I will speak to you later at the sheds. I'll also be having a stern word with James, since delivering the Kipper was his job. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to these complaints about some yellow car masquerading around the railway at high speed…"
Thomas just sulked as Gordon pulled snootily out of the station.
"Now I'll never get to travel the world…"
"It is quite a long travel, Thomas." argued Annie.
"It's rather far-fetched anyway." added Clarabel. "And we do need you here to pull us."
"I guess, but wouldn't it be lovely though?" Thomas lamented as he pulled out of the station himself. "I'd get to see the sights instead of dealing with big bossy boilers who can't take a joke…"