Chapter 4:

It had been three days since Thomas had begun work on the Island of Sodor, and he'd adapted well. After his little mishap with Gordon and the express, he'd set rather dutifully to work, simply shunting and pushing the cars around in the yard.

"Thomas, you've been a really useful engine!" Sir Topham Hatt told him that evening. Thomas didn't question, but had wondered why he always talked to the engines like they were children. "So, it's time we painted you properly for your job here on my railway. You are to puff over to that shed there, and the painters will be working on you through the night." Topham pointed to a shed on the sidings where a few workmen were setting up.

"Oh?" Thomas exclaimed. "Well, thank you Sir! What color will I be?"

"Go and see for yourself Thomas!" Topham beamed.

Thomas laughed and puffed off the turntable, pulling into the siding just as Edward returned from work. "Good evening Thomas!" He called as Thomas stopped.

"Hi Edward!" Thomas called back. "I'm going to be painted!"

"Good luck!" Edward replied, then looked around the sheds. Henry was just waking up to pull his last night train, though not the Flying Kipper, and Owen Bailey was washing his tender as he did. "Quick washdown before you go Henry?"

"Ah, yea." Henry sighed. "Just trying to look sharp for those mainland ladies!"

"Something like that…" Edward scoffed.

"Och, ye'r jus wantin' to look sharp fer ye'self, ye haughty great engine." Bailey, a scot, mocked. "Silly brute!"

"Don't worry Henry, there's no rain tonight!" Edward replied.

"What's rain got to do with this?" Thomas shouted from the siding. "Rain can't hurt your paint job!"

"I KNOW THAT!" Henry shouted, fully awake now. "For the love of Godred Crovan, I stopped in the tunnel for a few minutes and I pay for it for the rest of my life!"

"That's what happens to naughty engines on my railway!" Topham boomed, the engines having forgotten he was there. "Tell Thomas the story Edward."

"No, no need, I see what's happening, and I need some rest!" Thomas replied. "Goodnight Edward, Goodnight Henry!"

"Ah, well Goodnight Thomas." Edward sighed as he pulled back into his shed. "Goodbye Henry!" Henry was now in a huffy mood, having been reminded of his most embarrassing moment yet. Edward quietly steamed, and the smell of paint reached his nose as he began to drift off, curious of what color he'd find the little tank engine in the morning.

A shrieking whistle shocked Edward awake the next morning. Though Ivo Hugh had yet to light his fire, he was fully awake the second time Thomas blasted his whistle. Gordon and Henry grumbled as they were awoken, but Edward focused just enough to see the tank engine in the early light. "How do I look gents?" Thomas asked.

Like Edward and Gordon, he was NWR blue, with the red stripes, and a bright yellow number 1 on his side tanks where the letters LBSC had been. Henry subtly smirked as he remained the only green engine, and Gordon just went back to sleep. "Lovely Thomas, but it's a bit early."

"Not too early!" Ivo shouted as he pulled up in his mother's little car. "Funny to see you all awake before I even arrive!"

"Gah!" Gordon grumbled, giving in to the morning. Thomas laughed and backed up, only to run into a truck and ram it through the buffers in the yard. "Thomas, do you know what happens to naughty engines on this island?"

"Ooh!" Ivo shouted excitedly from inside Henry's cab. "Are you going to tell him about Smudger?"

"No, I was going to talk about Henry, but that's a good story too, so yes, I'll do Smudger." Gordon sighed.

"Right, who's Smudger then?" Thomas peeped.

"Smudger worked on the Mid-Sodor railway, back before it shut down." Gordon began. "This railway was a narrow-gauge railway, for smaller engines. Smudger worked with a couple other old engines, who were always reliable and on time, but they were narrow-gauge so we don't care about them."

"Skarloey was a narrow-gauge." Edward chided.

"Shut it Eddie." Gordon growled. "Anyway, Smudger was a bit of a jerk. He enjoyed making messes, being late, and he came off the rails often." Gordon stopped, pondering the story for a bit. "I've just remembered Duke. He was one of the other Narrow-Gauge engines, and he was always getting after Smudger for coming off the rails, and Smudger would always reply: 'Can it, Dukey!' And so after some time, the controller of their railway got tired of it, and so he took Smudger off the rails one day."

"Is that it?" Thomas nagged.

"Nope!" Gordon snapped. "He took Smudger and turned him into a generator, telling him, 'now you'll really be useful!' and they left them in a shed behind a hill. The end!"

Ivo was now sitting on Edward's buffer beam, having lit all of their fires, and was laughing at the story's finish. "You know, that's not quite how it happened, and you make it sound like the controller was a jerk!"

"Well, it's basically an engine fairy-tale." Charlie Sand muttered, the four drivers now having made it to the sheds.

"Now gents, you know my name comes from that controller!" Ivo laughed. "My Grandfather, Ivo Hugh, was the Mid-Sodor Railway controller!"

At this, the other three drivers busted up laughing, while Sand just got on board Gordon. While Ivo bid goodbye and drove away, Bob admired the new paintwork of his engine. "Looking sharp Thomas!" Bob laughed. "And it's very interesting to see that you've been given the number 1!"

"Why?" Thomas asked. "It's logical, considering there's already 2,3, and 4!"

"No, it's not that." Bob replied. "It's just that the last number 1 was one of Hatt's old coffee pots!"

"Topham's coffee pots?" Thomas asked, confused at the thought of Sir Topham Hatt writing a number one on a pot of coffee.

"Not like the actual pot!" Bob laughed. "I mean a prototype engine called a Coffee Pot."

There was a rumbling noise and a splutter, and Thomas and Bob looked over to see Edward, spewing smoke from his funnel and shaking. "Are you alright Edward?" Thomas asked, very worried for the kind old engine.

"Shite!" Sidney Heaver shouted. "Looks like you've broken down Edward!"

"REALLY?!" Edward spluttered. "I hadn't noticed! Would you like to state something else utterly obvious?!"

"Nope. I'm good."

Bob hopped out and moved over to Edward, checking him over with Sidney. After a short time, Edward appeared to be steaming normally, but the smoke still lingered in the air and Edward continued to shudder. "I think you might be able to get Edward running now." Bob said, looking around Edward's chassis. "But you might want to work him a little less today."

"Yard work is real easy if you want my jobs!" Thomas offered.

"Thank you Thomas." Edward sighed, shaking slightly still. "Oh, but I've go to take a train to Vicarstown this morning!"

"Can you take care of that?" Sidney asked. "I'll work this out with Hatt if you can."

Bob and Thomas happily agreed, and steamed quickly through the yard. Bob knew the line well enough to help Thomas down the Main line, and they quickly assembled the train.

But what Thomas didn't understand was that trucks on Sodor were different. They too were sentient, and seem to live only to bring hell to the engines. Thomas had only worked with them in small amounts, only lining them up in the yard for the big engines to take away. But now, the trucks had their chance, and they were going to take advantage of the silly new tank engine.

All started well for Thomas. He took his long line of trucks full of various goods and pulled them out of Knapford yards. Gordon blew his whistle as he passed, and Thomas smirked, proud of himself for getting to take a train on the main line. They made it out of Knapford smoothly and puffed along the line for a good distance before the trucks enacted their plan.

Between the towns of Wellsworth and Maron is a hill. This hill is large, and is most commonly used by passenger trains, dating back to when Gordon was the sole passenger train, thus it's been named by the engines 'Gordon's hill'. Gordon's hill is notorious for getting engines in trouble. The track on it runs East-West, and the East slope is the easy side. Though a hard hill from either side, engines commonly get stuck coming up the West side, or end up going far too fast coming down it. Gordon himself often needs a push from Edward on this hill, and engines owned by Gerald have crashed coming off it before.

But today, Thomas and Edward's train approached it. Coming from the west, Thomas was proud to push up the steeper side without help, and was just coming to the stop at the top when the Trucks pushed, with all their combined strength, and down the east side the train went.

"Stop! Stop!" Thomas shouted, but the demonic trucks laughed and pushed on.

But the trucks didn't give a crap. They pushed on, and though individually they had only a little strength and control, they could make a massive push in numbers. And so Thomas was forced on and on, charging through Maron and Cronk without stopping, desperately shouting for help at any signal and station.

A signalman at Maron phoned ahead to Kellsthorpe, where the signalman there set the points to a long, dead-end siding. But until then, Thomas careened down the track, helpless.

Sir Topham Hatt was visiting Gerald at Kellsthorpe, discussing the poor state of Gerald's line atop a black engine who seemed quite bored. Their conversation was interrupted as they heard a dull noise from down the line. "Shush, shush." Gerald shushed Topham. "Do you hear that?" It was quiet at first, but as the sound grew louder, it became clear that it was a scream for help, right up until they saw Thomas shoot around the corner, forced along by the trucks. "Ah, that's what it is." Gerald laughed.

"~AAAAAAAAAAAAA~" Thomas continued to scream, screaming loud as he moved onto the siding, and just as loud as his brakes lit with sparks as Bob desperately tried to stop him.

"Cor, what an Engine!" Gerald laughed. "I think you've got something to say to him Topham?"

"GAH!" Thomas shouted, smashing into the buffers at the end of the line. The trucks bounces slightly and Thomas breathed heavily. As for his time on the main line, he was two-for-two on speed-related accidents. "What in th~" Thomas began.

"~e name of King Godred Crovan are you doing here Thomas!?" Sir Topham Hatt boomed, simultaneously ending Thomas' sentence.

"I, er- brought Edward's trucks sir!" Thomas laughed sheepishly. "They, uh, pushed me."

"You've got a lot to learn about trucks Thomas!" Hatt sighed. "If you want to pull your own trains, you've got to learn how to take care of these cars!"

"Why don't you yell at the trucks?" Gerald asked, bemused at the affair.

"Because the trucks won't listen!" Topham replied, exasperated, as Bob got out and checked Thomas' breaks.

"And your engines will?" Gerald laughed. "Alright, don't worry Topham, we'll work out that deal tomorrow, me and James have to go now!"

"Finally! You boring old men!" The black engine moaned as Gerald mounted him. "Goodbye, silly little tank engine!"

"How rude." Thomas muttered as he puffed away.

"Look Thomas." Topham sighed. "I've heard about Edward's problem, so I think that, while we wait for the parts to fix Edward, you both will work the yard, and take turns pulling the trains, okay?"

"Yes sir!" Thomas and Bob said simultaneously.

As Topham got in his car back at the station, he smiled as he watched Thomas puff away. He turn the key of his car and pulled away, nearly hitting Tom Tipper the mailman. "Sorry!" He called out his window, but Tom jumped out and grabbed a letter from his van.

"Wait Sir!" Tom called. "I've got a letter here for you!"

Tom handed Topham the letter, it was marked with a stamp from London, and the return address was the head office of the LBSC. Topham gulped and opened the letter as Tom drove away, his mail van sputtering along the road.

Dear Sir Topham Hatt,

Recently the LBSC attempted to dispose of an engine on the Isle of Man, but mistakes were made and an angry sea captain left the engine on your island, which has apparently begun work on your line. While we are not demanding the engine back, we are asking for the monetary value this engine's scrap would have provided.

"Oh dear…" Topham sighed.