One morning, James arrived at Elsbridge in a sour mood. He was pulling a slow goods train to Crovan's Gate, and was not very happy about it. His brakes screeched as he came to a sudden stop at high speed.

"Trucks!" he grumbled. "Why must I have to pull trucks?"

"Hello to you too, James." said Thomas from the other platform.

"Hello Thomas." James replied snootily. "The Fat Controller is making me pull slow goods trains for the next few days. He says I've been too rough with the coaches!"

"I can see why." retorted Thomas. "You really shouldn't be braking so sharply like that. You wouldn't want to damage them and end up in a field again, would you?"

James winced as he remembered his very first accident, and then wheeshed steam indignantly. "That was ages ago, Thomas! Back when I was painted black and had those wooden brake blocks that caught fire. My brakes are much stronger now, and I was given my signature red paintwork! So good things came out of that accident, and I've been the only red engine on the North Western Railway ever since."

"Are you sure about that, James?" came a voice. Thomas and James looked up to see Toby puffing into the station with quarry trucks for James' train. "Have you seen Rosie lately?"

"Rosie?" laughed James. "She's not red! She's pink and white, which are rather silly colors for an engine if you ask me."

James then looked in disgust at the stone trucks about to be coupled to his train. "Dirty stone trucks are much more her sort of work anyway. Bright red engines like me have no place taking dirty goods trains." he rambled on.

Thomas and Toby looked at each other and chuckled.

"Well, she's red now!" chortled Thomas. "I just saw her this morning."

James was suddenly alert. "Red? Like me red? James red? Splendid red?"

"Not quite," remarked Toby. "But I saw her at the quarry yesterday, and she's now a lovely shade of maroon and cherry with fancy silver lining."

"With NWR lettering and a number too!" added Thomas.

James could hardly believe what he was hearing.

"Alright then…" he sniffed as Toby shunted his trucks into place. "I may not be the only red engine, but I am much faster! And fast red engines like me are much too splendid to be pulling trucks."

The trucks giggled when they heard this. "Too splendid!" mocked one.

"That's what you think!" guffawed another.

James left the station hissing while Thomas and Toby just laughed.

"Silly little engines…" he seethed.

James was further down the main line when he noticed a small goods train stopped at a signal. Upon seeing the engine's color scheme, he suddenly realized who it was.

"Rosie?" gasped James.

His brakes came on, but they let out the same screeching sound they had before.

"What an awful noise!" chattered the trucks.

Rosie winced at the noise as James stopped beside her.

"Hello, James!" she greeted cheerfully.

"You really are red!" remarked James, without bothering to greet her back.

"Yes, what do you think of my new paintwork?"

James looked Rosie up and down. He noticed the railway's lettering painted on her tanks and the number 37 on her cab. Admittedly he was impressed, but acted as if he wasn't.

"Not bad...although the other engines might think you're trying to look like me."

Rosie felt rather hurt at such a remark.

"No I'm not, don't be silly James." she replied defensively.

"Not so red now, squeaky wheels!" joked James' leading truck, and the others giggled in their silly ways.

"Why are they calling you that?" Rosie asked innocently, pretending she hadn't heard the noise before.

James blushed with embarrassment.

"N-no reason, you know how trucks are." he stammered.

Rosie shot him a worried look.

"So," James continued, "seeing as there are two of us red engines now, how about a race to see which of us is faster? Just to the next signal box."

"A race?" said Rosie, perking up. "That sounds fun, so why not?"

James was delighted with an opportunity to show off.

"Alright, so as soon as the signal drops, the race begins!"

At that moment, the signal went green. Rosie instantly noticed and pumped her pistons.

"You're on, James!" she laughed, speeding away.

"Hey, wait for me!" cried James, starting after her.

The two engines flew down the line. Rosie had an early lead from her head start, but James quickly overtook her. But Rosie was determined. They entered a tunnel with James leading, and were neck and neck coming out the other side. James was surprised to see Rosie putting up such a fight. They were approaching the next signal box when James managed to pull ahead again. Then all of a sudden, the signal turned red. Rosie noticed this and began to slow down.

"Looks like I'm going to win!" James teased triumphantly.

"James! The signal is red!" warned Rosie.

James looked ahead, and to his horror, saw Henry merging onto his track with a long line of trucks. His driver applied the brakes, but they just screeched louder than ever. James' trucks saw a chance for mischief, and surged against him.

"On! On! On!" they yelled.

James held with all his might, but his faulty brakes and the troublesome trucks pushed him on past the signal.

"James!" cried Rosie.

Henry looked back in surprise.

"James!"

"Oh no!" cried James. "Look out!"

Both engines shut their eyes, bracing for the crash. Then, miraculously, James' brakes finally started working, and James screeched to a stop just inches from the points. Henry let out a huge sigh of relief.

"You seriously need to watch where you're going, James!" he scolded.

"Sorry, Henry…" panted James.

Rosie pulled up sternly beside James. "Racing was not a good idea, James. There's clearly something wrong with your brakes. You barely managed to stop!"

"I'm sure I'm fine!" protested James. "Nothing a bit of oil won't fix, I'm sure."

"Or maybe we should drive…" whispered a truck.

"Good idea!" giggled another.

"You should really go to the Steamworks after delivering your trucks." continued Rosie. "Better to be safe than sorry."

James rolled his eyes submissively.

"Fine…" he mumbled.

Rosie delivered her trucks to Maron and the headed back to Knapford Yard while James continued on slowly and carefully to Crovan's Gate. By the time he arrived, he was late for his next train. He forgot Rosie's advice and insisted on hurrying back to Tidmouth to collect his next train.

"If we don't make up for lost time, the Fat Controller will have me pulling trucks for the next week!" fumed James.

"What about your brakes, James?" asked his driver.

"They haven't given me any trouble since the race." James sniffed. "Now come on, let's go!"

James hurried back up the main line. He passed Edward and Philip, who were chatting as they made their deliveries.

"Slow down, James!" warned Edward. "You're going way too fast!"

"Yeah James, way too fast!" replied Philip, pretending to be as important as Edward.

"Fast red engines don't listen to slow coaches like you!" laughed James as he sped by.

"You're going to crash again if you're not careful!" called out Edward.

But James just ignored Edward's warning. He increased speed as he began to climb Gordon's Hill. He soon reached the top and began coasting down the other side. Gordon was slowing down with the express at the bottom on the line next to him.

"Whoo-hoo!" cheered James. "Look at me now, Gordon!"

Gordon looked back and scoffed. "Showoff…"

But when James' driver tried to apply the brakes, nothing happened. He tried pulling the lever again and again, but to no avail.

"Oh no!" cried the driver. "The brakes have failed!"

James felt himself going faster and faster down the hill. "Oh no...oh no...I can't stop!"

James rocketed past Gordon at full speed.

"James, what are you doing?!" exclaimed Gordon.

"Heeeeeelp!" wailed James.

James sped round a bend so fast that he nearly came off the rails. To make matters worse, the swerve threw his driver and fireman out of the cab, so he couldn't reduce his speed either. He was approaching a level crossing, where Trevor was carrying a big cartload of hay across the tracks. James whistled furiously, warning that he was a runaway.

"Look out, Trevor!"

Luckily, Trevor managed to clear the tracks in time, allowing the gates to open and give James just enough room to pass. But the wind generated from his speed sent the hay in the cart flying everywhere.

"Why can't I ever take the hay in peace?" Trevor groaned as hay rained down on him. "First Donald and Douglas, and now this…"

James ran through Knapford Station, narrowly avoiding hitting Emily at the junction.

"Slow down, James!" she yelled.

"I can't!" wailed James.

All traffic was halted to prevent the runaway James from running into any more trains. He sped past Rosie in the shunting yard, still wailing and whistling frantically.

"Rosie! Help me!"

"James?"

"Please! I can't stop!"

Rosie pumped her pistons and sped bravely after him. But she wasn't fast enough to catch up. By now, the only way to stop James was to divert him away from the main line, and the closest diversion was Tidmouth Sheds. Fit to burst, James barreled over the turntable, into the berth, and smashed through the back wall. Bricks and dust flew everywhere.

"James!" cried Rosie, pulling up to the wreckage. "Are you alright?"

"Ouch…" James groaned as the dust settled. "I think so, but just look at me! I'm bruised, dented, and my paintwork is ruined!"

"Nevermind your paintwork, I'm getting help!" scolded Rosie.

As Rosie puffed out of sight, Diesel passed by with some scrap trucks. He gasped when he saw James in the wreckage, but then smirked devilishly.

"You've really done it now, James…" he chortled.

James gulped hard. Rosie raced up to Arlesburgh and came back with Judy and Jerome to lift James out of the rubble. As James was lowered onto a flatbed to be taken to the Steamworks, the Fat Controller arrived in Winston. He was furious.

"I told you many times not to show off, and now look what's happened!" he boomed. "You've ruined the sheds."

James felt awful. "I'm so sorry, sir…" he wept.

"But sir, his brakes were faulty." cut in Rosie. "He even went to the Steamworks to have them checked earlier."

James suddenly remembered and sheepishly glanced away. Rosie stared at him apprehensively. "You did go, right James?..."

"I'm afraid I didn't..." James squeaked under his breath.

"Oh, James…" The Fat Controller buried his face in his palms. James winced, suspecting he might be crying.

"If you cannot behave and continue to act so recklessly," scolded the controller, "I shall take away your red paint and have you painted a color that won't bolster your ego."

James gasped in horror, but said nothing in defense as the Fat Controller glared at him. "...yes, sir." he said at last. "I'm sorry, sir."

"I should hope you are, too." remarked the Fat Controller as he climbed back into Winston.

"I'm sorry, Rosie." James lamented. "I shouldn't have made such a big deal about you being red. I should have listened to your advice."

"Well James, for your sake I'd suggest being extra careful once you're out of the works." advised Rosie. "Otherwise, I may end up being the only red engine on this railway."

James just sighed in shame as Rosie took him away to the Steamworks.