Parody of Thomas the tank engine & Friends season 2

I don't own either Blackdder and Thomas the Tank Engine

Oliver the Second

Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends crossover with Blackadder

Main starring

Oliver the Great Western Engine as Lord Oliver Westadder
Percy the Small Engine as Percy the Butler
Henry the Green Engine as Lord Henry
Emily the Single Sterling Engine as Queen Emily
Thomas the Tank Engine as Lord Thomas Blueadder
Caroline the Car as Nursie

Episode One
Bells

Guest Starring

Molly the Yellow Engine as Bob aka Molly
Bear the Diesel as Father of Molly
Gordon the Big Engine as Gordon Greasley
Duck the Great Western Engine as Doctor Duck
Henrietta the Coach as Wisewoman
Tim the Little Engine as Young Tim

In the house of Molly and her father.

Molly: Father, I must speak. I can be silent no longer. All day long you muttered to yourself, gibbered, dribbled, moaned and bat your head against the wall, yelling "I want to die". Now you may say I'm leaping to conclusions but you're not *completely* happy, are you? It's mother, isn't it?

Father: No, it is not.

Molly: You're brooding over her death, aren't you?

Father: Molly, for the final time, your mother is not dead. She's run off with your uncle Monty.

Molly: Dear father, I know you only say such things to comfort me.

Father: Your mother is alive and well and living in Droitwich. It is not her I brood over. I'm sad because, my darling, our poverty has now reached such extremes that I can no longer afford to keep us. I must look to my own dear tiny darling to sustain me in my frail dotage.

Molly: But father, surely...

Father: Yes Molly, I want you to become a prostitute.

Molly: Father!

Father: Do you defy me?

Molly: But indeed, I do. For it is better to die poor than to live in shame and ignominy.

Father: No, it isn't.

Molly: I'm young and strong and clever. My nose is pretty. I shall find another way to earn us a living.

Father: Oh, please... go on the game. It is a steady job and you'd be working from home.

Molly: Goodbye father. I shall go to Suddery, disguise my self as a boy and seek my fortune!

Father: But why go all the way to Suddery when you can make a fortune lying on your back?

In the house of Oliver Westernadder.

[Percy holds a dartboard over his head, while Oliver practises the bow]

Percy: Ah, very good shot, my lord.

Oliver: Thank you, Percy.

[Thomas walks in]

Thomas: Sorry I'm late.

Oliver: No, don't bother apologizing. I'm sorry you're alive.

Thomas: Oh good, I see the target is ready. [Picks up the bow] I'd like to see the Dutch who could make his way past me.

Oliver: Well, go to Holland. There're millions of them.

Thomas: I'll advise them to stay there then. Keep their hands off our women.

Oliver: Oh God, who is she this time?

Thomas: I don't know what you mean. Aah, ouch, aah.

[Oliver succeeds in pilfering a letter from Thomas]

Oliver: Aah, and who is Jane?

Thomas: I'm sworn to secrecy. Torture me, kill me, you shall never know. Ooh, ouch... Lady. We're very much in love, my lord.

Oliver: This is *the* Lady Goldie?

Thomas: Yes.

Oliver: Lady - burry-me-in-a-wide-shaped-coffin - Goldie.

Thomas: I.., I think maybe there are two Lady Goldie.

Oliver: No... Tall, blond, elegant?

Thomas: Right, that's right.

Oliver: Goes like a privy door when the plague is in town? Come on, get on with your shot. You'll get over her.

... [Thomas aims]

Oliver: I did.

... [Thomas aims again]

Oliver: So did Percy actually. [Thomas's shot ends up way too low]

Thomas: Damned!

Oliver: You see, she's got this thing about beards apparently.

Thomas: Well, in that case I'm going to shave!

[Thomas leaves]

Oliver: Bad luck, Perky.

Percy: Not to worry my lord, the arrow didn't in fact enter my body.

Oliver: Oh good.

Oliver: No, by a thousand to one chance my willy got in the way.

Oliver: Extraordinary.

Percy: And I only just put it there. But now, I will leave it there forever.

Oliver: That so Percy? It can be your lucky willy.

Percy: Yes, my lord. Years from now I'll show it to my grandchildren.

Oliver: No Percy, I think that grandchildren may now be out of the question. Poor old Pee Brain, eh? Ha! Never catch me falling in love, that's for damned sure as mustard.

[Knock on the door]

Oliver: Come in.

[Molly enters, dressed in boys clothes]

Bob: Good day to you, Lord Westadder!

Oliver: Ah, good day to you... boy?!. What is it brings you here?

Bob: I'm an honest hard working lad, but poor and I must support my father who is stark raving mad. Therefore I come to Suddery to seek a servants wage.

Oliver: Yes, indeed. Unfortunately I already have a servant.

Bob: The word is that your servant is the worst servant in Suddery.

Oliver: Hmm, that's true. Percy you're fired. Be out of the house in ten minutes. Well young man you've got your self a job. What do they call you?

Bob: Molly.

Oliver: Isn't that a bit of a girls name?

Bob: Oh..it's..euh... short for... Bob!

Oliver: Bob?!

Bob: Yes.

Oliver: Well, Bob, welcome on board. Sorry Percy, any reason why you are still here?

Percy: Euh .. I've got nowhere to go, my lord.

Oliver: O surely you will be allowed to starve to death in one of the royal parks.

Percy: I've been in your service since I was two and a halve, my lord.

Oliver: Well that is the why I am so utterly sick of the sight of you.

Percy: Couldn't I just stay here and do the same job but for no wages?

Oliver: Well, you know where you will have to live.

Percy: In the gutter.

Percy: Yes.

Oliver: And you'll have to work a bit harder too.

Percy: Of course, my lord.

Oliver: All right. Go and get Bob's stuff in and chuck your filthy muck out into the street.

Percy: God bless you, sweet master.

[Percy leaves, Thomas enters again, without beard]

Oliver: Oh Bob, this is Thomas, a dimwit I don't seem to be able to shake off.

Thomas: Ah, hello there Bob, you young roister-doister, you. Ah, you look a likely sort of lad for tricks and sports and all sorts of jolly, rosy cheap capering, eh. Of course you do, and more besides, I warrant thee, young scamp.

Bob: Thank you so much for letting me stay Lord Westadder.

Oliver: Oh not at all Bob. I'm looking forward to having you... Euh, having another man about the house instead of that animal Percy. Excuse me, I must go into the lavatory.

Bob: [to the camera] How little he knows and how much I would have him know.

Thomas: I say Bob, I think this calls for a celebration. How about a game of cup and ball and a slab of tea at Mrs. Miggins pie shop?

Bob: Get lost, creep!

Thomas: Euh, euh, I like you young Bob. You've got balls.

In the court of Queen Emily.

Queen: Nice try Heny, but it is no use. I'm still bored!

Henry: I'm very sorry madam. Your royal father used to be very amused by my impersonation of Neville.

Queen: You don't surprise me. He used to laugh at these people with the funny faces and the bells.

Henry: Ah, jesters ma'm.

Queen: No, lepers. Where is Oliver these days?

Henry: Ah well, the whisper on the underground grapevine, ma'm, is that Lord Westadder is spending all his time with a young boy in his service.

Queen: Oh. Do you think he would spend more time with me if I was a boy?

Henry: Surely not madam.

Nursie: You almost were a boy, my little cherrypit.

Queen: What?

Nursie: Yeah. Out you popped, out of your mummies pumpkin and everybody shouting : "It's a boy, it's a boy!". And somebody said "but it hasn't got a winkle!". And then I said "A boy without a winkle? God be praised, it is a miracle. A boy without a winkle!" And then Sir Zorran Stack pointed out that a boy without a winkle is a girl. Anyway, I was really disappointed.

Henry: Oh yes, well you see, he was a very preptive man, Sir Zorran Stack.

Queen: Oh, what *has* happened about Oliver? There is something very odd about someone who spends all his time with a servant.

[Romantic interlude with Oliver and Bob walking in the countryside to the tunes of "Greensleeves", "The Rain it Raineth Every Day", "Hey Nonny, I Love You", "My Love is a Prick (On a Tudor Rose)", "Hot Sex Madrigal in the Middle of my Tights" and "Many, many more..."]

Oliver: Well Bob. We're a couple of fine lads together, aren't we? Let's get retted and talk about girls eh? Yes we could sink to really dirty songs and... oh God, I find you curiously pleasant company, young Bob.

Bob: I'm honoured and for my part want nothing more than to be with you... old man.

Oliver: Well absolutely. I mean there is nothing more healthy and normal than having a good chum.

Bob: What think you my lord of love?

Oliver: You mean rumpy pumpy?

Bob: What would you say my lord if I were to say "I love you".

Oliver: Eum, well of course it depends entirely on whom you said it to. If you said it to a horse I would presume you were sick, if you said it to Percy I would presume you were blind and if you said it to me, well...

Bob: Yes, my lord?

Oliver: Well, well I'd naturally assume we were having a big lads joke about back-tickle as the way we healthy fellows often do and I'd probably grab you for a friendly wrestle and then we'd probably slap each others sides like jolly good chums and laugh at what it would be like if we really did fancy each other.

Bob: In that case my lord... I love you!

[Bob and Oliver engage in friendly wrestling, just when the mood changes, Percy enters the room]

Percy: Don't worry Bob. He used to try and kill me too.

Oliver: Why didn't you go Percy? Mighty glad to see you? What do you want?

Percy: Bah, I was wondering if I might sleep on the roof sir? Earlier the towns bailiff says that if I lie in the gutter I will be flushed into the Machan with all the other turds.

Oliver: Yes, certainly Percy. Help your self. I was just off to bed anyway. Euh.. good night Percy. Good night Bob.

Bob: Good night my lord.

Oliver: Yes. Oh God...

At the doctors.

Doctor Duck: Now then cousin, what seems to be the trouble?

Oliver: Well, it is my man servant.

Doctor Duck: I see. Well don't be embarrassed if you got the pocks. Just pop your man servant on the table and we'll take a look at him.

Oliver: No, I mean, it is my real man servant.

Doctor Duck: Ah, ah. And what is wrong with him?

Oliver: There is nothing wrong with him. That is the problem. He's perfect and last night I almost kissed him.

Doctor Duck: I see. So you started fancying boys then, have you?

Oliver: Not boys. A boy.

Doctor Duck: Yes, well let's not split hairs. It is all rather disgusting and naturally you're worried.

Oliver: Of course I'm worried.

Doctor Duck: Well, of course you are. It isn't every day a man wakes up to discover he's a screaming bender with no more right to live on Gods clean earth than a weasel. Ashamed of your self?

Oliver: Not really, no.

Doctor Duck: Bloody Hit, cousin! I would be. But still why should I complain? Just leaves more rampant totty for us real men, eh?

Oliver: Look, am I paying for this personal abuse or is it extra?

Doctor Duck: No, it's all part of the service. I think you're in luck though. An extraordinary new cure has just been developed for exactly this kind of sordid problem.

Oliver: It wouldn't have anything to do with leeches, would it, brother?

Doctor Duck: I had no idea you were a medical man.

Oliver: Never had anything you doctors didn't try to cure with leeches. A leech on my ear for ear ache, a leech on my bottom for constipation.

Doctor Duck: They're marvellous, aren't they?

Oliver: Well, the bottom one wasn't. I just sat there and squashed it.

Doctor Duck: You know the leech comes to us on the highest authority?

Oliver: Yes. I know that. Dr. Zebedee of Constantinople, isn't it?

Doctor Duck: That's right, brother, the great Zebedee.

Oliver: Owner of the largest leech farm of Europe.

Doctor Duck: Yes. Well, I cannot spend all day gossiping, brother. I'm a busy man. As far as this case is concerned I have now had time to think it over and I can strongly recommend a course of leeches. [in chorus]

Oliver: Yes. I 'll pop a couple down my codpiece before I go to bed.

Doctor Duck: No, no, no, no. Don't be ridiculous. This isn't the dark ages. Just pop four in your mouth in the morning and let them dissolve slowly. In a couple of weeks you 'll be beating your servant with a stick, just like the rest of us.

Oliver: You're a sale? quack, aren't you?

Doctor Duck: I'd rather be a quack than a ducky. Good day.

At the house of lord Westadder.

Percy: Anything to follow my lord? There is this lovely fat spider I found in the bath. I was saving it for myself but if you fancy it...

Oliver: Shut up Percy. I don't eat invertebrates for fun you know. This is doctors orders.

Percy: Oh, I don't hold with this new fangle doctoring. Any problems, I go to the Wise woman!

Oliver: Yes Percy. I am long past on trusting my self to some deranged druid who gives her professional address as 1, Kaiser Mansions, Harwick.

In Harwick.

Oliver: Tell me Young Tim, is this Harwick?

Young Tim: That it be, that it be.

Oliver: "Yes it is". Not "that it be". You don't have to talk in that stupid voice to me. I'm not a tourist. I seek information about a Wisewoman.

Young Tim: Ah, the Wisewoman.. the Wisewoman.

Oliver: Yes, the Wisewoman.

Young Tim: Two things, my lord, must thee know of the Wisewoman. First, she is ... a woman, and second, she is ...

Oliver: .. wise?

Young Tim: You do know her then?

Oliver: No, just a wild stab in the dark which is incidentally what you'll be getting if you don't start being a bit more helpful. Do you know where she lives?

Young Tim: Of course.

Oliver: Where?

Young Tim: Here. Do you have an appointment?

Oliver: No.

Young Tim: Well, you can go in anyway.

Oliver: Thank you Young Tim. Here is a purse of moneys... which I'm not going to give to you.

Wisewoman: Hail Oliver, lord of Western Great.

Oliver: Hello.

Wisewoman: Step no nearer, for already I see thy bloody purpose. Thou plot is, Westadder: thou wouldst be king and drown Loey Machan in a butt of wine. Ah, ah, ah, ah.

Oliver: No, no, no, no. it is far worse than that. I'm in love with my man servant.

Wisewoman: Oh well, I'd sleep with him if I were you.

Oliver: What?

Wisewoman: When I fancy people, I sleep with them. Oh, I have to drug them first of course! Being so old and watty.

Oliver: But what about my position, my social life?

Wisewoman: Very well then. Three other paths are open to you. Three cunning plans to cure thy ailment.

Oliver: Oh good.

Wisewoman: The first is simple. Kill Bob!

Oliver: Never.

Wisewoman: Then try the second. Kill your self!

Oliver: Neu. And the third?

Wisewoman: The third is to ensure that no one else ever knows.

Oliver: Ha, that sounds more like it. How?

Wisewoman: Kill everybody in the whole world. Ah, ha, ha ...

At the house of Lord Westadder.

Oliver: Now look here Bob. I've got something very important to say to you and I want you to listen very carefully.

Bob: Yes.

Oliver: Look Bob. I've decided that you are to leave my service.

Bob: Oh no, my lord! My father will starve and I'll have to become a.. male prostitute. And besides, I thought we were friends.

Oliver: Oh we are friends Bob. Of course, of course.. In fact that's the reason I want you to leave my service and become my live-in chum.

Bob: Oh my lord!

Oliver: Now. I want to make definitely clear that I am in no way interested in the contents of your tights.

Bob: You might be, my lord, if you knew what I kept in them.

Oliver: Euh, ah.. I've learned of my self, well.. that I know what a gentleman keeps in his tights. Thank you very much.

Bob: But my lord, I have a great secret.

Oliver: What?

Bob: Prepare to be amazed. [Bob starts unbuttoning her blouse]

Oliver: Oh no. You haven't got one of these birthmarks shaped like a banana, have you?

Bob: No.

Oliver: Or, or, or a tattoo saying "Get it here"?

Bob: No.

Oliver: Oh God. You've got one of those belly buttons that sticks outward, haven't you?

Bob: No my lord.

Oliver: Now what can it possibly be?

[Mysterious music on a flute]

Oliver: Aah... good Lord!

[Two minutes later, Bob and Oliver chatting at the table]

Oliver: What was all that Bob's stuff about then?

Bob: Because you would have just used me and cast me aside like you have so many women before.

Oliver: Would I?

Bob: Yes. But now you have a chance to grow to love me for what I really am.

Oliver: Yes, that's true and now I want to marry you, Bob.

Bob: Molly!

Oliver: Then come, kiss me Molly!

In the Court of Queen Emily.

Henry: I bring grave intelligence of your former favourite Lord Westadder.

Queen: Oh good.

Henry: It appears he wishes to marry a girl called Bob.

Queen: It is a very odd name for a girl, isn't it? Girls are normally called Emily or Mary.

Nursie: And Donald...

Queen: Mouth is open Nursie, should be shut.

Nursie: Thing is true, sweet one. I had three sisters and they were called Donald, Douglas and Duncan.

Queen: Then why is your name Caroline?

Nursie: That ain't my real name.

Queen: Isn't it?

Nursie: No.

Queen: No, what is your real name then?

Nursie: Neil.

Queen: Suites you, actually.

[Oliver enters the room]

Oliver: Your Majesty.

Queen: Oh, hello stranger.

Oliver: I seek your permission to wed.

Queen: So I hear. Henie, what do you think of all this?

Henry: Oh, but I must confess madam, that I'm astonished that Westadder could possibly have eyes for any other woman than yourself.

Queen: Good point. Though slightly grovel.

Oliver: Very well. When I fell in love I didn't know she was a woman. I thought she was a boy.

Henry: But of course that makes it perfectly acceptable, doesn't it?

Queen: Oh all right, go on and marry her.

Oliver: Thank you, ma'm.

Queen: Just tell me one thing. Is her nose as pretty as mine?

Oliver: Oh, no, no.. ma'm.

Queen: Oh good, because otherwise I would have cut it off. And then you would have to marry someone without a nose and that wouldn't be very nice, would it?

Oliver: No ma'm.

Queen: Imagine the mess when she's got a cold! Yuck!

Oliver: Well, quite ma'm.

Queen: All right, off you go then.

[Oliver leaves]

Queen: Everyone seems to get married except me.

Nursie: And me, Ma'm.

Queen: Oh shut up, Neil.

At Westadders residence.

Molly: You'll make a lovely bridesmaid Percy. Pity me that I have no actual girl chums because we were so poor in our house we couldn't afford friends.

Oliver: It is strangely in keeping with the manner of our courtship that your maid of honour should be a man.

Percy: Thank you very much my lord.

Oliver: Well, I use the word man in an as broad as possible sense because we all know God made man in his own image. It would be a sad look out for Christians around the globe if God looked any like you, Percy.

Molly: Ignore old Mister Grumpy. There you are, Perky. Hmm, you look sweet as a little pie.

Oliver: Molly, he looks like what he is: a dung ball in a dress.

[Thomas enters]

Thomas: Oh Oliver... [sees the bridesmaid] Hello there... Oliver, you didn't tell me we were expecting guests. And such a pretty one too.

Oliver: Oh God...

Thomas: Now you're a little cuty to be hiding your self away all these years. Tell me gorgeous, what is your name?

Oliver: He's called Percy.

Thomas: Percy.. that's a pretty name. Oliver used to have a servant called Percy. But anyway, away with such small-talk. Lady.. a kiss!

Bob: What?

Thomas: And so modest too. Come on you little tease. You know you want to. Give us a kiss.

Bob: All right, if you say so. [kisses Thomas heavily]

Thomas: Ohghw...he.. what an original perfume.

Oliver: That is our Percy. He's wearing a dress.

Thomas: Ourgh..

Oliver: Anyway, what do you want?

Thomas: Ourgh... well euh.. [deep voice] Oliver, there has been some discussion around the Court on the subject of who's going to be your best man and I thought it might be the moment to bring the subject to a conclusion.

Oliver: Ah yes, Thomas. I would like you...

Thomas: Oh, I'm so proud!

Oliver: Please let me finish. I would like you to take this letter to Brendam where is recently docked the galleon of my old school friend and adventurer Lord Gordon. He shall be my best man.

Thomas: Lord Gordon. The best sword, the best shot, the best sailor and the best kisser in the kingdom.

Oliver: Even he. To Brendam at once!

Thomas: Yes. Actually I was going to suggest Lord Gordon as the best man myself.

Oliver: Were you?

[Thomas leaves, crying his eyes out]

In front of the church.

[Wedding bells]

Molly: Oliver I cannot believe it is really happening.

Oliver: It is, my sweet.

Molly: Before we go in I want you to meet my father.

Oliver: Oh fine!

Oliver: [to the old man standing near them] Excuse me, could you move along please. Look, I'm waiting for my father in law. Last thing I want is some scruffy old beggar blocking the church door, smelling of cabbage.

Father: I am your father in law.

Oliver: Oh no... All right, how much you want to clear off?

Molly: Oliver, how could you? He's my father, my only living relative.

Father: Ten pounds should do the trick.

Molly: Father!

Oliver: All right, there we go.

Molly: Oliver, you mustn't!

Oliver: No, don't worry, I'll get Percy to beat him up after the ceremony. We'll get the money back. Come on, we're late.

In the court of Queen Emily.

Queen: Ah Oliver. Could we get on do you think? I want to get to the reception so I can get squiffy and seduce someone.

Oliver: Yes.. oh.. unfortunately ma'm, my best man still has not arrived.

Queen: Well, get another one.

Oliver: Ma'm, there is no one else I can really think of.

Thomas: Euh.

Oliver: Sorry Thomas?

Thomas: Nothing my lord, just clearing my throat.

Oliver: Don't. I don't want you coughing all the way through the ceremony.

Queen: Oh, come on Oliver. You must be able to think of another best man.

Oliver: Well, I suppose I could ask Thomas. Thomas!

Thomas: My lord!

Oliver: Can you think of another best man?

Thomas: Well my lord. One name does spring to mind.

Oliver: Yes. But I can't ask Percy. He's a bridesmaid and besides, I need a friend, an equal, an old and trusty companion.

Thomas: I think there is one person in the room who fits the description.

Oliver: Of course... Nursie! How do you fancy putting on a pair of hose and being my best man?

Queen: Oliver, don't be so naughty. You know perfectly well whom Thomas is referring to.

Oliver: All right, I'm sorry. Henry! [squeak] All right! All right! As ashamed as I am and contradiction in terminus though it is, Thomas, you can be the best man.

Thomas: Oh, my lord! Noble cause, oh what an honour. I brought along a ring, just...

Oliver: I really did think old Gordon would have turned up.

[Lord Gordon enters in spectacular fashion]

Gordon: It's me, Gordon! Gordon by name, speed by nature. Hurrah!

Oliver: Where have you been?

Gordon: Where haven't I been! ..Waugh!.. But I'm here now.

Gordon: Who is that?

Oliver: I don't know, but he is in your place.

Gordon: Not for long. Hold that.

[Hands his sword to Percy, then throws Thomas through the door]

Gordon: Thanks bridesmaid, like the beard. Gives me something to hang on to.

Gordon: So me old mate Ollie is getting hitched, hey? What's the matter? Can't stand the pace of the mmmm [grabs Oliver's tights]. Hey queeny. You look sexy. Listen, wear your hair long, I prefer it that way.

Queen: [to the camera] I've got such a crush on him.

Gordon: Hey Heny! Still worshipping God? Last thing I heard He started worshipping ME... Ah Nursie, I like it firm and fruity. Am I pleased to see you or did I just put a canoe in my pocket? Down boy, down. And now... where is this amazing bird? The one who stopped my old pall Ollie doing exactly whatever he wants, ten times a night.

Oliver: Ah yes Gordon, let me introduce my... my fiancee Molly.

Gordon: Hi, baby! [Gordon kisses the bride]

Gordon: She's got a tongue like an electric eel and she likes the taste of a man's tonsils. You don't want to marry this jerk baby? Meet me on my horse in eight seconds.

Molly: But I can't run in this frock. You see, I found I actually preferred wearing boys clothes.

Gordon: Weird. I always feel more comfy in a dress. I got a plan and it's as hot as my pants.

Oliver: What a man Gordon is, eh? Things will certainly liven around here, now he's back. Gordon. Gordon?

[Gordon (in dress) and Molly (in boys clothes) on a horse, about to depart]

Gordon: So long, suckers! Next time you get bored with your lives just give me a call and I'll come round and kill you.

Molly: Bye Oliver and thanks for everything. Hurrah!

[Gordon leaves in the same style as he arrived]

Henry: It is customary on these occasions for the groom to marry the bridesmaid. I presume you intend to honour this.

Percy: I do.

[Song]
So Gordon tweaked the Westadders beard,
from now he always shall be single.
To fall in love with boys is weird,
especially boys without a tingle.
Westadder, Westadder. His taste is rather odd.
Westadder, Westadder a randy little sod.
Lord Gordon, Lord Gordon, I wish you were the star.
Lord Gordon, Lord Gordon, you're sexier by far.
[The end]