Sir Handel didn't sleep well at all that night. He wasn't used to anything, and it made it practically impossible to sleep. He tried for hours, only growing more frustrated as he watched everyone around him fall asleep and the horizon grower blacker and blacker, like there was an uncapped pen in the sky. He eyed Peter Sam, who was sleeping peacefully, and huffed to himself.

"Oh, of course Stuart falls asleep easily. Lucky him." Sir Handel scoffed. He yawned and blinked his eyes. He was exhausted, but sleep still refused to come to him, frustratingly enough. He growled in annoyance and stared at the sky. Pointing out stars wouldn't help him like it tended to help his brother, he'd already tried. Sir Handel then had an idea. If he couldn't sleep here because it was too unlike his old sheds, he'd just close his eyes and pretend he was in his old sheds, and that Skarloey and Rheneas weren't there at all. Sir Handel shut his eyes tightly and thought as hard as he could.

He was not in the bothersome, small, old shack on the Skarloey Railway, he was on his old railway with his old sheds, and Skarloey and Rheneas weren't there.

Sir Handel yawned again, and his exhaustion was beginning to outweigh his frustration and he was getting closer to finally falling asleep.

Peter Sam was there, and so was Duke. It was just the three of them, on their railway in their sheds like they should be, not whisked away to some other railway because it closed down. Everything was right. Everything was normal.

Without realizing, Sir Handel slipped fast asleep at last, and slept without stirring until that morning. The next morning, Sir Handel was tired, and grouchy, and only running on a few hours of sleep. His fireman arrived to light his fire.

"Alright, Sir Handel, time to get you ready for work." The fireman said, starting a blaze in Sir Handel's firebox. Sir Handel scoffed loudly.

"I'm tired! Let Peter Sam go," Sir Handel complained. "He loves it here…he'd love this too." He muttered to himself. Peter Sam didn't say anything.

"Nope, you're going first, Sir Handel. Manager's orders." Said the fireman, beginning to shovel in coal. Sir Handel scowled, but didn't say another word about it. He soon set off to collect his coaches for his passenger run. Sir Handel was in for quite the surprise when he arrived at the yard and saw the look of his new coaches. They didn't look anything like the ones on his old railway.

Sir Handel spluttered indignantly, "What next?! Th-These aren't coaches! They're-They're cattle-cars!" He cried. The coaches were most offended by this.

"What a horrid little engine!" They gasped. "How rude of him! Why, he's got no manners at all!" Sir Handel heard them, but he didn't much care.

"This isn't what I'm used to at all," He whispered to himself, grumpily collecting his coaches before setting off. He pulled into the station just as Gordon did. Sir Handel looked up at the bigger engine.

"Hello," He said. "Who are you?" Gordon looked down at the unfamiliar engine.

"I'm Gordon. Who are you?" Gordon said.

"I'm Sir Handel," Sir Handel said, deciding that he might as well use his new name to avoid confusion. He thought a moment, and remembered something. "Hey, I've heard of you, you're an express engine! So am I, but I'm used to new coaches, not these cattle-cars." Sir Handel huffed. Gordon looked surprised, but didn't get a chance to say anything before the little engine was chattering again. "Do you have new coaches? I see you do! We must have a chat sometime, sorry I can't stay longer, we've got to keep time, after all." And at that, the little engine was off. Gordon was utterly speechless, and couldn't even think of a single word to say.

Steam rose as Sir Handel huffed along unhappily down the line. He was only crosser yet when they reached the last station. Sir Handel wanted to rest for a while, but his driver didn't agree.

"Alright, Sir Handel, we'll leave the coaches here for now, and run by the quarry. There are some cars we need to pick up."

"Cars?!" Sir Handel almost shrieked. "Cars!? I-I-I won't! So-So there!" He huffed, going red in the face. Before his driver could respond, Sir Handel bucketed ahead indignantly, hitting an odd bit of track and derailing himself. Sir Handel's driver was surprised.

"Sir Handel!" His driver gasped.

"Hmph!" Sir Handel huffed. "I told you!" His driver didn't say another word, but didn't look pleased at all with Sir Handel's outburst. He went red and walked away to fetch help before he got anymore upset. Sir Handel didn't say a word. But, after sitting off the rails for a while, he was beginning to regret reacting so strongly, and began to feel rather silly. At last, Peter Sam arrived with workmen to come rescue him. Just when Sir Handel didn't think things could possibly get any worse. Someone else climbed down. It was Sir Topham Hatt. Sir Handel recognized him at once and gulped. Sir Topham Hatt's message was blunt and short.

"I shall speak with you later." He said, looking quite displeased. Sir Handel didn't want later to come after that. Peter Sam looked at his brother disappointedly before he set off with Sir Topham Hatt and the workmen. Sir Handel wasn't feeling angry at this point, just even more upset then he had been already. Sir Handel was back on the rails before long, and slowly crawled back to the sheds, where he found Sir Topham Hatt waiting for him. Sir Handel bit his lip.

"I'm not happy with the recklessness and chaos you caused today, and you'll have to be punished." Sir Topham Hatt said.

"A-And what's that, Sir?" Sir Handel stuttered.

"I'm hoping that I'll be able to trust you to be responsible the next time you leave this shed." Sir Topham Hatt said, nodding to the shed behind him. Sir Handel felt the color drain from his face, and his boiler grow tight. He now felt rather sick.

"S-Sir, please, I-I-I—" Sir Handel stammered nervously.

"Now, Sir Handel." Sir Topham Hatt ordered. Sir Handel felt even sicker, and slowly backed into the sheds. His pistons quaked and his pipes felt like they were tying themselves into many knots. Sir Topham Hatt left, and Sir Handel felt as sick as ever. He felt hot tears burn in the corner of his eyes, and gasped out a sob without meaning to.

"Today was awful!" He wailed to himself, beginning to cry. "I hate this railway!"