Next time! We have the return of a certain character, and with it, a bit more story on top of that! Nothing too extreme, just clearing up a few minor points here or there! Also, this episode is okay. It's perfectly fine. Just means that I have to write an entire episode in barely comprehensible Scottish. It's great. This one isn't as funny as the other ones, but that's the name of the game. Sometimes you'll have ones that aren't as chuckle-worthy. Next time should be fun, though.
AaronCottrell97: I agree. Winter Holiday aside, there's nothing that wrong with the episode. It's perfectly fun, even if I do feel as though it's going a little bit backwards with regard to the snowplow issue. But whatever, it's fun.
Reality Rejection Service: Eh. In case you can't tell, Edward's my favorite character, so I'm a little biased. I will cut back on him for the next few episodes, however. Edward being an atheist was actually mentioned before, during Season 4, but I just emphasized it here. He's just seen too much shit at this point.
Game-Watch: The most obvious of morals!
BronzeShield: Fair enough. When it does come back, I am going to do more with it than just repeat the same bit over and over again.
TrainManiac: Probably my favorite line of the episode. I was just like "Okay, Henry's not going to be doing ANYTHING of note for this season, let's just give him something to do" and there we have it. Thank you, and I will.
bigyihsuan: Yeeeeeep.
Kamen Rider Necrom: Thanks!
MattPrice01: That I am! ...And it starts next time! I hope.
Radical Sandwiches: Thomas exists in this universe to be the plaything of it. And you are welcome!
UGX7: Oh, you will! I hope to have a few more interactions like that! Hopefully I will be developing the characters further, even if the show itself keeps occasionally taking three steps forward, four steps back.
CUE THE THEME!
And now it's summer again, go figure.
Ahem, erm, anyway, Donald and Douglas are twins and are Scottish. We're assuming that you've not been watching the last five seasons and are only now tuning in. Also, we're assuming that you haven't been able to tell up until this point with their accents. Mind, that could be the incredibly Liverpudlian men who we keep hiring to do narration for us. They are also...this alliteration isn't going to become a thing, right? Ugh. Okay. They're practical, peppery, proud and pissed out of their minds, most of the time.
They nearly always work together, and nearly always to the sound of very, very eager bagpipes being played.
"HI GUYS!" shouted Sir Topham Hatt, who was in the middle of a mountain climbing incident gone horribly wrong. "Can I get a lift back- Oh forget it!"
On this day, the twins were chuffing through the countryside pulling a heavy load of freight and going "AYE!" and "HOOTS MON!" at random intervals. The ducks near the watermill were very confused every time they did this.
Down the line, Trevor the Traction Engine had been having a hell of a day. He had been struggling with a massive cartload of hay, not helped by Sam the lazy farmer leaving him halfway through to go drinking with Carlin. Eventually, the cart had broken down on the line, and the rest of the farmers were trying to get it off. And then a whistle sounded.
"Ah well." sighed Trevor, accepting his probable death. "It was nice while it lasted."
Donald rounded the bend and saw the cart. "STUP!" He bellowed, having lost the ability to form 'O's' temporarily. His driver applied the brakes, but it was too late. Douglas, meanwhile, had had no idea of anything going on because of all the incessant bagpipe playing that was going on in the background.
...
One crash later, Donald had somehow managed to flip himself off the rails onto his side in a ditch. It was an impressive trick, and no one was quite sure how he had done it, especially the engine himself. Luckily, no one bar Donald was hurt. And even then, it was only his pride.
"STUP BEING PUSHY!" snapped Donald.
"DINNAE CALL ME PUSHY, YE BITCH!" snarled Douglas.
"YE SHULDNAE HAVE PUSHED ME INTO CART, YE BASTARD!" added Donald.
"YE PULLED ME, YE LILY LIVERED SACK OF SHIT!"
"DIDNAE!"
"DID!"
"DIDANE!"
"DID!"
Eventually, they were able to lever Donald back onto the track, and they set off again, still going at it ("DIDNAE!" DID!") and as a compromise, the bagpipe players were asked to tone it down a little bit.
But the twins were so cross that they refused to talk to each other for the rest of the day, even as they headed off to the Smelters and asked themselves the question "Where do these scrap Thomas's keep coming from!?" Neither one of them asked each other what they thought, instead just staring pointedly ahead and making snide comments to no one in particular.
The next day, the Fat Controller arrived and needed someone to help Duck work at the Smelters Yard. Thomas was also there, for some reason.
"May I go sir?!" begged Donald, who had managed to say words with 'o' in them once again. "Please? Pretty please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?"
"I only need one engine, you weird Haggis eater!"
"But I am only ONE ENGINE. And I didnae want to waste time! I want ta work with yon Duck!" Donald's eyes went in different directions for a moment.
The Fat Controller stared at him, confused, before agreeing that yes, that would be okay. As he walked away, he wondered vaguely if Donald had drunk a little less than usual, considering how...helpful, he was being today.
Thomas was confused, and felt as though he needed to stick his oar in. "Won't you miss each other? I know I'd miss...oh damn, those two coaches behind me, what are they called again?"
"WELL!"
"REALLY?!"
"I will work better on my own!" said Douglas, snootily.
"And I HAVE work ta be doing!" snapped Donald, storming off in the general direction of the yard.
Thomas frowned. "So that just happened." He paused, and then groaned. "Oh for god's sake, you two, am I going to have to deal with this ALL day now?! Because it's going to get old really fast!"
"At least we're DOING SOMETHING!" shrieked Annie. "We barely got anything to do in that stupid movie of yours! Where's our focus episodes?!"
"Oh...shush, you!" Thomas sighed, and headed off to get very, very drunk indeed.
...
Duck and Donald enjoyed a quiet and somewhat fun three hours working together, pulling the trucks around and making sure that the two new diesels who had taken the identities of Arry and Bert weren't screwing up.
At which point, everything went slightly wrong. Donald stormed up, looking stressed. "DUCK! Did ye shunt those trucks onto that other line?!"
"Yes?"
"WRONG. YE DIDN'T DO WHAT I ASKED YE!"
"...You said you wanted the trucks on the other line!" protested Duck, as calmly as he could be.
"Not that other line! The other, OTHER line! The other line confuses the shit out of people! The other other line is more easily accessible to whatever bastard wants to take the trucks."
Duck stared at Donald for a long moment. "You're insane." he said at last.
"DOUGGIE WOULD HAVE UNDERSTOOD!" wailed Donald, and he huffed off.
"What just happened?" Duck asked to no one in particular.
Elsewhere, Douglas was having a grand old time. He puffed dutifully through the beautiful countryside, occasionally passing by an engine like Henry and giving a cheerful whistle. But eventually, Douglas realized that one of the flaws of not having Donald around was not having someone to talk to. And, admittedly, bitch at. Soon he began to miss his brother. Not helping was the constant bagpipe playing in the background.
...
That night, as James and the others worked hard at Knapford, Douglas's driver took him to chat to Donald at a shed in the yards. "Ah, I was just passing!" Douglas said, trying to sound calm and normal.
"Come ta say yer sorry, have ye?!" growled Donald.
This pissed Douglas off something fierce. "TA HELL WITH YE!" He fumed. "I'VE NOTHIN TO BE SORRY FOR!" And off he steamed.
"BITE ME, YE LILY-LIVERED SHEEP LOVER!" screamed Donald at his twin's retreating tender. "DUCK! FETCH ME PIPE AND GOWN, I'M ABOUT TA WATCH BRAVEHEART AGAIN!"
Duck was in a miserable mood also, as Oliver and Stepney, who had come over to give them a hand, could see.
"The bloody hooligan's been making me go back and forth all ruddy day!" Duck wailed, nose currently in his glass of ale. "The trucks go here, the trucks go there, in that place, not that place, the other place, that kipper was meant to be boiled not cooked, why are you boiling the kipper, there's no point anymore, can't you do anything right!?" He groaned. "If the Other Railway had had Donald on their side, they would have won a long time ago!"
"There there." said Stepney, in what he hoped to be a sympathetic tone of voice. "It'll...work itself out."
"It better!" groused Duck. "Otherwise, I might just hang myself before the day is out!" He paused, and then grinned. "On the other hand-" He remarked, casually. "-maybe all they need is a little push."
"You're beginning to scare me, Duck."
"Shush yourself, Oliver!"
...
Donald was in a furious mood, banging everything in his way and swearing up even more of a storm than usual. Duck could see that he was getting dangerously close to the buffers, but was also aware that a good cool off might just save both of them from doing something they'd both regret. He sighed. "Look out!" he said, halfheartedly. It was too late of course.
Donald hit the buffers and slid down the embankment. "HOW!?" he shouted. "WHAT!? WHAT BLOODY PRAWN PUT THESE WEAK-ARSE BUFFERS NEAR A BLOODY DROP!? THIS RAILWAY IS SHITE!"
"Don't ask me, I just work here." Duck said.
Donald's driver was enraged, as the bagpipes had been crushed in the fall. "This wouldnae have happened had yer stupid twin been here!" he snapped. Donald knew he was right, and Duck knew that he couldn't get him out on his own.
Not that Donald didn't try and convince him otherwise.
"GET ME OUT OF HERE!"
"No."
"DUCK, I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!"
"So did I. Then you called me a baboon and smacked me across the face with a newspaper."
"CANNAE YE NOT TAKE A JOKE?!"
Duck didn't answer this. Naturally, he went for help. All according to plan so far.
Douglas was sadly shunting in the yard, sullenly reciting some Robbie Burns to himself at intervals, when Duck rushed in and, in rather bored tones, shouted out loudly. "DONALD'SINTROUBLEHEMIGHTBEDEADSOMEONEHELP."
"DONAL IN TROUBLE?!" bellowed Douglas, somehow managing to get that, fueled by last night's drinking binge. "I'M ON MY WAY!" And as he steamed off, he failed to notice Duck patting himself on the back for a job well done.
Eventually, Douglas pulled his twin back onto the tracks. Feel a bit anti-climatic? Well tough, that's how the episode went.
"Thank ye!" said Donald. "I'm sorry!"
"No, I'm sorry!"
"I'm sorry!"
"I'm sorry!"
"NO YER NOT!"
"YES I AM!"
"I'M MORE SORRIER THAN YE-"
"DON'T ARGUE ABOUT WHO'S SORRY!" shouted Duck, having finally had enough of all of this. "Just be glad that you are back together! Now for god's sake, let me out of here!" And off he puffed to fall back into the whisky glass once more.
...
Elsewhere...Sir Topham Hatt was facepalming harder than ever.
"Okay, Henry, you want to explain what happened?"
"Erm...I came off the rails."
"I see. How did you manage to do so in such a spectacular fashion?"
"I would like to plead the fifth, if I may, sir!"
Sir Topham Hatt groaned. "Right. Right. AGAIN. I'm going to have to go and phone for a new engine. And I get the feeling that I'm going to get a very familiar answer with regards to that!"
He had no idea how right he was.