THE WORLD'S STRONGEST ENGINE

The engines on the Fat Controller's railway always try their hardest to get their deliveries to their destinations on time. Unfortunately for the engines, the Troublesome Trucks do everything they can to make the engines' journeys as hectic as possible.

"Alright, you horrid lot, I want no nonsense from you!" Henry called back sternly as he backed onto a long line of trucks.

"Of course, Henry! No nonsense from us!" a truck said sweetly. Henry smirked and began pulling the heavy train out of the siding.

"Right. Let's keep it that way." He whistled and headed off towards the main line, feeling very confident that he was keeping the trucks under control.

He wasn't.

"ON, ON, ON!" the trucks cried in delight as they pushed a screaming Henry down the hill.

"Stop, stop!" Henry wailed desperately, but the trucks weren't listening. The bend at the bottom of the hill approached closer and closer. Henry shut his eyes, bracing for the worst. Henry flew off the rails and into the patch of grass beside the line, coming to a stop as his front wheels slammed into a rock. The trucks piled behind him, giggling wildly. Henry groaned.

Henry's driver went for help, and it wasn't long before Edward arrived with the breakdown train. Henry winced as the Fat Controller stepped down from the works unit coach, looking rather annoyed.

"I'm sorry, sir," mumbled Henry, "The trucks were pushing me, I couldn't stop in time."

"I can see that," the Fat Controller replied gravely, turning to look at the cackling trucks.

"You will need a trip to the Steamworks to get you back in working condition. It shouldn't be too long, but we can't afford to have you away without a… temporary substitute." Henry's eyes widened.

"A substitute, sir?" But the Fat Controller didn't reply, instead turning on his heel, walking back to the works unit coach. Henry glanced at Edward.

"What exactly did he mean by that?" he asked, somewhat nervously.

"I'm not sure," Edward admitted, "but I'm sure it'll be fine, Henry. As he said, you won't be gone for long." Nonetheless, Henry couldn't help but be worried about what the Fat Controller had said.

It wasn't long before the other engines felt the same. By the time they all had gone back to the sheds for the night, the news of Henry's accident and the Fat Controller's response to it was well-known.

"Substitute? He's not replacing Henry, is he?" fretted Percy.

"Of course not," comforted Thomas, "He's just getting someone else to do his work while he's repaired."

"Quite right, Thomas." The engines looked down to see the Fat Controller walking up to the sheds.

"I'm sure you've all heard about Henry's… incident."

"Yes, sir. Please, sir, when will he be back, sir?" Percy asked anxiously.

"I'd say a week, two at the most. His damage wasn't too severe, and the Steamworks is working as quickly as it can." The engines were relieved, but the Fat Controller wasn't done.

"But we do need an engine on heavy goods until he returns, and all of you are busy as it is. Therefore, I have arranged with the Other Railway to loan a diesel." James gaped.

"A… a diesel, sir? You can't be serious!" The Fat Controller raised an eyebrow.

"Is there a problem, James?" James faltered.

"Well, um…"

"With all due respect, sir," put in Duck meekly, "it seems some of these 'trials' don't turn out… well."

"This diesel in particular has been to the railway before, so he should know better than to antagonize you. Nonetheless, I will be keeping a close eye on him. Trust me, if I had it my way, I wouldn't have this engine back either." Before any more objections could be made, the Fat Controller walked back to his car and drove away. The engines looked at each other.

"Been here before? He's not talking about… Diesel diesel, is he?" Percy gasped. Gordon snorted.

"That puny little box on wheels would knock himself to bits trying to pull one of Henry's trains; the Fat Controller would never be so silly."

"Who else could it be?" retorted Thomas, "The only other diesel who's been here and left is…" Thomas broke off as a dawn of realization came over the engines. James broke the silence, groaning loudly.

"Not him! That green worm was bad enough for one day, let alone a week!"

"Indeed, he acted as if we were already on the scrap heap," agreed Duck.

"Now, now, everyone, let's settle down," Edward interjected gently, "He wasn't very kind on his first trial, yes, but perhaps he has changed?" James scoffed.

"I'll believe it when I see it," he muttered darkly.

"And this, my friends, is why I personally object to pulling trucks," murmured Gordon.

"Oh, be quiet, Gordon."

Early the next morning, Donald pulled into Vicarstown station, hauling a long line of fish vans. He had bags under his eyes and looked very cross.

"How does Henry pull this dratted train every night?" he grumbled, "Anyone would think Henry liked being tired." Suddenly, he heard a quiet purring, followed by a somewhat familiar horn. Donald watched as a large, green diesel came to a gentle stop at the other platform, trying their best not to draw attention to themselves. Donald narrowed his eyes as he read the diesel's number - D261.

"So… it's ye, is it?" Donald muttered suspiciously. The diesel squirmed.

"Nothing of your concern, steamer."

"Och, it is my concern, ye muckle nuisance. This is our railway, and if ye think ye can stick yer radiator back here and taunt us again, I'll bash ye over tae bridge myself! Ye understand?" The diesel didn't seem particularly fazed by this threat.

"Sure thing, steamer."

"Ah, D261." The diesel and Donald looked over to see the Fat Controller hurrying over to them.

"Thank you for being quick, I understand this is a bit sudden." The diesel smirked smugly.

"No trouble at all, sir. Speed is my specialty." Donald glared, but the Fat Controller continued.

"Good, because I haven't forgotten your last visit here. I have only brought you back out of necessity. If I hear one slip from you, it's back to the Other Railway." The diesel blushed and looked at his buffers.

"Yes, sir," he mumbled.

"Right then. You will find your trucks at the docks. Good day." The Fat Controller began walking away, but the diesel spluttered in horror.

"T-Trucks?!" The Fat Controller turned back around with a glare.

"Yes, D261, trucks."

"But I'm an express diesel! Trucks are… horrid, grimy little things!" The Fat Controller crossed his arms.

"D261…" The diesel stammered but eventually relented. Donald held back a snicker as the defeated diesel purred silently out of the station.

"Trucks… trucks!" the diesel grumbled as he rolled along the open line, "This is despicable! My railway treats me far better than this!" All on his way to the docks, he was nothing but envious as he passed other engines, who all looked proud with their shining coaches behind. Worse still, all they did was tease him when he passed by.

"Lucky my passengers aren't travelling with you! You'd swallow up all their hats!" chuckled Duck as the diesel rolled past, gnashing his teeth. At last, he arrived at Brendam, but there wasn't any peace for him there either.

"Look, Ben! It's that silly diesel who thinks you should eat hats instead of wear them!" called Bill with a cheeky grin.

"I'd hate to see what he does with shoes!" guffawed Ben. The diesel growled, but didn't retaliate as he rounded the bend and came to a stop on the quay. Cranky smirked from above.

"Oh look, we have a celebrity here!" The diesel looked away crossly as Salty rolled alongside.

"Argh, ahoy, matey! You must be… erm…"

"My associates call me 'Class 40'," the diesel replied plainly.

"Well then, ahoy, Class 40! Welcome to our docks!" Salty grinned. Class 40 rolled his eyes.

"Listen, 'cap'n', are you gonna quit the act and arrange my train now?" To Class 40's surprise, Salty laughed.

"Sorry, matey, I'm much too busy! So many coaches to be taken to the loading dock. Ye'll have to shunt yer own!" Class 40 gaped.

"You… You can't be serious."

Class 40 angrily banged the trucks about the quay, Cranky watching in amusement.

"Trucks… Shunting… Shunting trucks!" Class 40 growled. He took out his frustration on the trucks, who were quickly finding out how rough he was at shunting.

"Ow!" a truck cried as the large diesel shoved it into the growing line.

"Be quiet!" Class 40 barked and reversed to fetch another truck. Douglas, who was backing down onto a line of coaches just arranged by Salty, raised an eyebrow at the diesel.

"Ye're nae gonna get very far shunting one truck at a time, lad. Ye'll be here all day." Class 40 shot him a glare.

"Listen, steamer, I don't think you're in any place to say what is efficient." Douglas, taken aback, rolled away in a huff as the diesel continued his rather lengthy shunting.

It took much longer than it should have, but at last, Class 40 had arranged his train. He sighed with relief as he banged into the trucks, who cried out in pain.

"Watch it, you green goblin!" a truck spat.

"We haven't even doing anything! ...yet," another added bitterly. Class 40 glared and bumped them again; the trucks wisely subsided.

"It's bad enough I'm stuck on this wretched island with museum pieces, now I have to do work that should actually be reserved for them," Class 40 grumbled mournfully. He honked his horn and started off, still muttering to himself.

All along the diesel's journey, he got nothing but dirty looks from the engines, particularly the steam engines. Some even wheeshed steam at him, which only infuriated him even more.

"You rotten kettle!" Class 40 spluttered between coughs as James whooshed past with a local train. This became routine over the next few days, and Class 40 only became crosser and crosser. On his last day before returning home, he rolled quietly into the docks to pick up yet another goods train, groaning at the scattered trucks across the yard.

"Bother! That silly pirate shunter is no better than one of those steamers." Reluctantly, he set to work shunting with his usual method. Bill and Ben watched from nearby, sharing cheeky grins.

"Look over there, Ben!" said Bill, "It's the 'efficient diesel!' Shunts only one truck at a time! Can you believe it?"

"He mustn't be very strong," agreed Ben, "Henry can move three times more than him anyday." Class 40 stopped and only just now realizing the tank engines were there, spluttered in fury.

"W-Wh- How dare you insolent little-" As Class 40 struggled for words, one of the trucks got an idea and smirked.

"Is that all you can haul? Henry's loads are longer!" The other trucks quickly caught on and joined in.

"Is that all you can haul? Henry must be stronger!" Class 40's face turned bright red as the trucks roared with laughter. Even Bill and Ben were holding back giggles.

"I can haul much more weight than that silly old Henry!" the diesel scowled. A truck snickered.

"Oh yeah? Prove it!" Class 40 stammered for a moment before smirking confidently.

"I'll push you all at the same time!" he declared. Bill and Ben exchanged a look.

"He's not… serious, is he?" whispered Ben. His question was answered by the trucks' singing again.

"Push us all, that's the longest, push us all, you'll be the strongest!" Class 40 grinned in what he thought was praise from the trucks.

"Finally, you all see the light! That's me, the world's strongest engine!" Class 40 started reversing to the points to begin arranging his trucks. Bill and Ben blinked.

"At least it'll be a good show," remarked Bill.

Class 40 soon came back with five trucks, easily banging them into the buffers. The trucks gritted their teeth but held their composure.

"Five? Well, that's hardly any weight at all! Henry can pull that while sleeping!" a truck taunted. Class 40 glared.

"Huh! I'll show you, just watch." He honked his horn and went back for more trucks. A few minutes later, he returned with ten trucks. Class 40 smirked smugly.

"See? Nothing to it. I may as well permanently replace that kettle." The diesel was quite pleased, but the trucks weren't.

"Is that all you can haul? Henry's loads are longer! Is that all you can haul? Henry must be stronger!" they sang again. Class 40's smirk immediately dropped.

"He's not stronger than me, none of those steamers are!" Growling, he reversed yet again. Ben frowned at Bill.

"I shunt ten trucks all together all the time." Bill grinned.

"Don't tell him that, his engine might give out!" After a noticeably longer amount of time, the twins and trucks heard Class 40's horn and the diesel, red in the face, rolled in, pushing fifteen more trucks.

"Phew! There, you can't possibly say Henry is still stronger." The trucks smirked at each other.

"Hmm… maybe if you pull us one," one sneered. Class 40 scoffed loftily.

"I can do that with my eyes closed!" He reversed with a jerk, hoping to quickly start the heavy train, but the trucks didn't move. Class 40's wheels spun helplessly, and his face became even redder. The twins looked on in amusement.

"What's happening?" Class 40 spluttered angrily.

"You're just not strong enough!" the truck closest to him taunted.

"Yeah! Henry could move us in no time!" another added. The truth was that some of the trucks had slipped their brakes hard on, but Class 40, knowing very little about trucks, didn't realize this.

"I am strong enough!" the diesel retorted, tugging harder and harder. Bill and Ben watched expectantly.

"Here it comes…" Bill giggled. Suddenly, with a loud snap, the coupling broke and Class 40 shot backwards.

"And there it is!" Ben grinned. Class 40 raced backwards down the line, his brakes slamming on.

"HELP!" wailed Class 40 as the edge of the quay came closer and closer. Bill and Ben's laughter quickly stopped as Class 40's front bogey slipped over the quay. The twins could only stare in horror as Class 40 desperately put sand on the rails to keep his grip.

"W-What do we do?" stammered Ben.

"I don't know!" replied Bill.

"Just do something!" cried Class 40, "I'm going to fall!" Just then, the trio heard a long, loud whistle in the distance. To Bill and Ben's amazement, and Class 40's horror, a freshly repaired Henry the Green Engine rolled into the docks, immediately gaping upon seeing the situation. He braked alongside the twins.

"What is going on here?" He raised an eyebrow at Bill and Ben.

"Don't look at us!" huffed Bill.

"It's his own fault," added Ben, "He was showing off and made the coupling snap." Henry grunted and gently rolled up to Class 40. His driver attached a chain between the two engines, and Henry pulled with a mighty heave. Class 40 could only watch in amazement as slowly but surely, Henry reversed, pulling Class 40's bogey back onto the rails. Both Henry and Class 40 sighed in relief.

"That was a close one," remarked Henry, "But I doubt the Fat Controller's going to like this." Class 40 sighed.

It wasn't long before the engines saw the familiar sight of the Fat Controller's car driving into the docks.

"Class 40!" Class 40 winced as the Fat Controller stomped up to him, Henry and the twins watching from nearby.

"I had just gotten a complaint that you hadn't even arrived at Knapford yet, and here you are, showboating and nearly causing an accident!" Class 40 stammered.

"It's not my fault, sir! Those rotten trucks wouldn't move! What's an engine to do when their train refuses to be pulled?" The Fat Controller raised an eyebrow.

"Check the brakes, perhaps…?" Class 40's eyes went as wide as saucers. Henry, Bill and Ben almost burst out laughing.

"W-What? B-But-"

"You clearly have a lot to learn about trucks, Class 40. With Henry having returned, you are to go home immediately, and I will not be inviting you back; it is evident that you cannot learn from your mistakes."

"Yes, sir," Class 40 mumbled. The Fat Controller turned to Henry.

"Henry, do you think you can take this train away?" Henry grinned broadly.

"With pleasure, sir." Henry whistled and rolled off to couple up to the trucks. As he backed down onto the train, the shunters checked along the train and unscrewed any of the trucks' locked brakes. The guard blew the whistle and Henry, to Class 40's amazement, immediately began rolling away. The Fat Controller smiled and got back into his car, leaving Class 40 to begin his journey home. He honked his horn and quietly rolled away; he had a lot to think about. Bill and Ben, meanwhile, as soon as everyone else was out of earshot, burst out laughing.

"That was amazing! We didn't even need to do anything!" chortled Bill.

"Just goes to show you that trucks can be quite useful, sometimes," added Ben.

"Like getting rid of a smelly old diesel!"

Author's Note: So, it turns out writing the original story is taking longer than I thought, so here's another rewrite to tide you over. I know replacing Diesel with Class 40 is not an original idea whatsoever, I understand I am not original on this, I simply wanted to do my own take on it. This is the first time I think ever that I've truly written Class 40, I've always kind of avoided him because I didn't know what to do with him; I'm glad I eventually gave in, though, because he was pretty fun to write, as were Henry, Bill and Ben, the latter two replacing Thomas and Percy for most of it. I do have future plans for Class 40 which take place in the present day; I won't reveal much but I'm excited for it, though when it'll happen is anyone's guess. The next thing I write should truly be an original story, though. In the meantime, thank you for reading!