It was a cold, frosty day on the Island of Sodor. The weather was getting worse by the day and, as everybody knows, that means trouble on the Railway. James came in to Crovan's Gate Station with the Local, where Sir Handel was waiting with Gertrude and Milicent, looking very unimpressed.
"You're late." He said bluntly, darting his eyes towards the clock. "You're twenty minutes late! How can we be expected to keep to time with our work when you standard gaugers are so unreliable!"
James just scoffed. "I can't help it if the weather is bad and decides to try and blow me off the rails and throw stuff on my line! I'm here now, that's all that matters."
"Pah! Time may not matter to you lot, but it does to us! We actually have a good reputation of reliability to uphold. Bad weather or not, you should always arrive on time, we always do!."
"Oh, please! The first sign of a snowflake and you tiny goats are running back to your sheds for warmth, and stay there for a week, while we soldier on, through any and all adversity! We standard gaugers are, quite simply, better at handling bad weather." James retorted.
Sir Handel laughed. "Oh? Soldier on do you? You run to the Steamworks the moment a speck of dust gets on your paintwork, I'd hate to imagine what you do when it's snowing. Yout standards guagers are just all ego, no puff! Take a few lessons from us, and then you won't be Really Useless."
Before James could launch a come back, his driver intervened. "While this argument is highly ammusing, as you've pointed out we've got time to keep. So shut up and get to work." The guards blew their whistles and the two engines set out on their respective tasks. But the argument was far from over, for later that day, James met Henry and Gordon at Knapford and told them all about it.
"...And the he said we're 'Really Useless Engines'! The cheek of it! I handle his weekly, no yearly workload in a single day! Who does he think he is telling me what to do?"
"I quite agree, James!" Gordon replied. "It is simply not the business of narrow gauge engines to tell standard gauge engines what to do, especially when we so clearly do everything better. Why, it's... It's..."
"Disgraceful!" Snorted Henry.
"Disgusting!" Added James.
"Despicable!" Gordon finished. "I say it's high time we teach those toy engines their place!". The other two murmured in agreement. Little did they know that on the other side of the island, three other engines were also discussing the argument.
"Those standard gaugers are nothing but pompous bullies! They come to our station and boast about how great they are, but when the weather gets just a little chilly, they can't keep to time! Superior, my cabsides!" Sir Handel complained to his shedmates. Only Duncan and Freddie were listening.
"They think that just because their a wee bit bigger than us they have the right to boss us about! We have strong words to describe engines like that back where I come from. Why, they're..." Duncan agreed before being interrupted by Freddie.
"A lot of them are puffed up in the smokebox! Particularly those three big 'uns. Huh! I could do twice their work at thrice the speed with half the wheels, or my name isn't Fearless Freddie!"
"It's time to give them what's for and show them they can't just push us around and make us compensate for their mistakes!" The other two cheered in delight.
And so the next day, the two groups tried to one-up each other. Henry arrived at Crovan's Gate early with his guaranteed connection, and much to his delight none of the narrow gauge engines were there. It was some ten minutes before Freddie came puffing in from the east with some saloon coaches, grumbling.
"You're late!" Henry said with a smile. "How can I run my connection on time if you small things can't bring my passengers at a decent time?"
"Only by... 5 minutes! Ice and snow had frozen our shed doors shut, so we had a late start! It's a miracle I was able to make up the time that I did, and a testament to the abilities of I, Fearless Freddie, fast..."
"Fastest engine in the hills. We've heard that malarkey before. Well, I've got a train to run. Ta-ta!" Henry said, as he blew his whistle. Before he could depart, however, the sounds of a loud, frantic horn echoed throughout the station as Rusty pulled in behind Freddie. Passengers hurried from Ada, Jane and Mabel and on to Henry's train as Freddie stared dumfounded.
"You were in such a hurry, Freddie, that you left some passengers that were in the waiting rooms drinking some hot cocoa behind!" Rusty explained. Freddie just sulked as Henry left the station laughing. Sir Handel had seen everything and growled. A few hours later, Duncan was waiting in the Transfer Yards for an engine to come and pick up a load of slate. He was shocked to see that the engine was none other Gordon, who was very grumpy at the situation. He came up to the Transfer Station, and looked away, highly embarrassed, from the amused narrow gauger.
"Well, well, well! Look who it is! Gordon the Big Engine! I must say, the new express coaches are a great improvement over the old ones." Duncan teased.
Gordon wasn't in the mood for any cheek. "Load my trucks and be quick about it, mite, or is that too much for your little boiler?" Duncan mumbled some expletives under his breath and shunted his train into position and the men and cranes began transferring the slate. Gordon was impatient and was soon barking orders and complaining.
"Come on, come on! Hurry up, you dawdlers! " He moaned. "I've got more important and dignified work to be doing!"
"Not so fastest and best now, are ye Gordon?" Duncan mocked, before taking a look at his almost full train. "You haven't brought enough trucks, you'll need to fetch some more. I believe there's a few on that siding over there, chop chop!"
Gordon was fuming. "Who do you think YOU are, telling ME what to do? I will not obey orders from some insignificant pipsqueak with..." Just then the Yard Foreman came up.
"Gordon, fetch those trucks from that siding!" Duncan snickerd as the big engine went over to the siding. He neglected to tell him that the freezing weather had frozen the trucks brakes on. So Gordon pulled and pulled and pulled, but the trucks didn't budge an inch. He heaved and heaved and heaved... And still the trucks did not move. Duncan was laughing his whistle off.
"Oh dear Gordon, can't pull a few empty trucks can you? Should little weak me come over there and give you some help?"
Gordon growled. He was determined not to be made a fool of in front of the narrow guagers. So he heaved and he pulled with all of his might and then... One of the trucks ripped into peices! Gordon flew backwards and into his train, causing the slate in some of them to fall out and smash. Gordon was astonished, then he was furious.
"You... You sabataged my trucks to make a fool of me!" He bellowed. "You narrow guagers are nothing but troublesome little bugs! Why they don't replace you with proper engines that can actually do a meaningful amount of work, I'll never know!"
"We are proper engines, you bampot! Small, but strong, that's our motto!"
"Oh please, you're just a bunch of oversized, good for nothing toys!" And from here, the dispute between the two sides degenerated into a game of throwing insults at each other whenever they crossed paths at Crovan's Gate, neither side caring why the arguement started in the first place.
"Silly little mountain goats!" Gordon yelled as passed with the Express.
"Big boilered bullies!" Freddie retorted.
"Rattling Kettles!" James said to Sir Handel as he came in with the Local.
"Rotten floorboards!" Was the little engine's reply
"They aren't rotten! At least we don't have cattle trucks!"
"At least our cattle trucks run on time!" Sir Handel hit back, looking towards the clock.
James just blew steam at him. The next day, the three big engines were ecstatic. During the night, snow had fallen and a layer of it covered the island. They were certain that this would force the Skarloey to close for a few days. But when Henry came to Crovan's Gate, he was shocked to see the little engines soldiering on.
"What, you thought a wee bit of snow would deter us? We're dependable engines, and we never quit! Duncan said proudly.
"You're determined little things, I'll give you that." Henry conceded. As the day went on, the weather took a turn for the worst and more snow came. It was becoming increasingly difficult for the engines, standard or narrow, to do their work. Much to the chagrin of the three big engines, the narrow gaugers still soldiered on, until...
"Mr Percival has informed us that all Skarloey Railway services will cease at 6:30 pm and that the railway will likely be closed for the next few days. He apologies for any inconvenience." Came the voice over the speakers at Knapford. The three big engines cheered in triump.
"Hah, hah! We showed those toys who the better engines are!" Gordon gloated.
"I said they'd be running to their sheds at the sign of the first snowflake!" James boasted.
"In fairness, they lasted a bit longer than that." Henry pointed out. "But we did indeed show them who handles this weather better!" James had to take the Local again, and it was scheduled to reach Crovan's Gate shortly after the Skarloey closed. James was happy to have the chance to gloat over his "victory". When arrived, the narrow gauge engines were shedding up.
"Aww, what's the matter? Are the little ones afraid of a bit of harmless snow? Hah, dependable, what a joke! We standard gaugers rule this island, and don't you forget it!"
The narrow gauge engines were all annoyed. "Yes, yes we get it James. You've "won", even though it was actually the snow that forced us to close, after we pushed on all day. Congratulations, now shut your big mouth before something happens to you." Sir Handel warned.
James was having none of it. "What's that? Bitter are we? Oh, victory is sweet..." The snow on the station canopy bgan slipping down. "Who's really useless now, Sir Handel? You, that's who!" He blew his whistle triumphantly, but then he heard a sound from above him. "Huh?" he muttered before a blanket of snow fel on top of him. "Uchk!" Narrow gauge engines, railway workers and passengers alike burst out laughing at his plight, while his face went as red as his paintwork.
"Hah! Guess that makes us even now, James!" Sir Handel declared, to which Duncan and Freddie agreed profoundly. James just weeshed and hid himself in a cloud of steam...
Author's Note: Inspired by some amusing tweets I saw.