(AN: I made this story many moons ago, I'm just now putting it up. The following review of reviews is an addition to the original document).
With another five chapters up, let's get to reviews!
boss train, on the slur: Yep, invented in the late 1960s by British diesels too conceited about their supposed benefits over steamers.
Guest, on...what the heck is that mess of shoddy writing?
Guest, on the shenanigans: I never liked Samson, and this is when Lady starts falling for the big guy for real.
Guest, on the OT3: It is.
Guest, on the personality of Lady: Thanks! She's normally somewhat shy, but when push comes to shove she's quite outspoken.
Guest, on shipping: Vinnie and Kim for sure.
Bloopydoo, on schedule slipping: Yeah, sorry about that, started a Total Drama fanfic and got sidetracked, then the original copy of this fic got deleted so I've had to reconstruct it from the ground up.
JwwProd: She sure is!
And before we resume, please check out my profile, because I've recently rewritten one of the most divisive episodes of Season 22!
"C'mon...c'mon...what's taking so long?" Billy muttered. He was at one of the stations on Thomas' line. "It normally doesn't take this long to load up!"
"We normally don't get passengers on wheelchairs, either," Annie replied.
"Oh, I see."
"You're an impatient sort, aren't you?"
"Can you blame me? When Charlie and I were young, we had to shunt trucks and coaches for the big engines. And Charlie was always gallavanting off telling them jokes, making me do all his work!" The guard whistled, and Billy continued griping as he went. "He got all the credit, too! And the big engines were always, 'Do this, Billy!' 'I need this favor, Billy!'" He sighed. "It gets to you after a while!"
"Good thing Murdoch brought you back down to Earth," Clarabel said. "You've been a fine engine, Billy. Even if your wheels are small."
"Ha, yeah, why'd they make me the coach puller?"
"You have quite the interest in Diesel Ten," Annie said, changing the subject. "Why is that?"
"Well, when I first came to the Golden, I heard the stories about him. And they interested me. The stories the engines told were different from the ones the people did. Guess a machine's-eye-view's a bit more reliable in that case. Meeting him in the metal, he matches up more to our version. But...there's more to it than that. He couldn't have always been cynical. Something had to make him that way, and I wanna find out what. So I can get some closure, and more importantly, get a good understanding of him."
"A noble thing you're doing," Clarabel said.
"Mm-hm. I think that no one has ever gotten the full story about him, except Sir Topham Hatt and Nick himself. And I think that if we're going to be as useful as we can, we've gotta understand each other so we can work together effectively."
"Well, the Steam Team's coming back from Peel Godred today, so perhaps they might be able to hear it themselves."
Back at Peel Godred, the Steam Team had all the trucks they were taken filled up with logs, electrical wires, transformers, and other fancy things the author doesn't understand. "Thomas, that train of transformers is yours," Mrs. Mayberry said. "It's a bit heavy, so you're going to need someone to double-head it with." Emily and Rosie glared at each other.
"Well, we electrics aren't gonna be much use until these things get set up," Wattson snarked.
"And we aren't either, we're triple-heading the posts," Gordon said as he backed down onto James, who was coupled to the front of the log train. Henry in turn backed down on him.
"So that leaves Edward, Percy, Emily, and Rosie," Thomas pondered. "Hm...how to make this fair...oh, I know!" Then, darting his eyes to each of the four in succession, he sang:
"Eeny – meeny – miny – mo, catch a – steam tram – by the – spoke. If they – whistle, let them – go. Eeny – meeny – miny – Rose!"
"Why thank you Thomas, I'm so flattered you'd pick lil' old me!" Rosie gushed as she chuffed to his position. Edward rolled his eyes and chuckled while Emily fumed.
"It's no biggie. And old? We were both brought to life in the sixties! And my base is a good twenty years older than yours."
"Then why are you so short lengthwise?" Heisenberg asked. "I've seen an E2 before, and they were a good meter and a half longer!"
Thomas sighed as Rosie backed down on him and both were coupled together, and Thomas to the train. "Blokes who rebuilt me after making me a Lifer botched the job. Now I'm short and stumpy."
"Okay, that's a wrap, people!" Mrs. Mayberry called. The steamers left as soon as their guards whistled.
"Feel free to visit any time!" Nikola called.
"We'll see you sometime soon!" Jouleia added.
"Five pounds says the burgundy one gets the guy," Lightning said to Thunder.
"Y' got a deal, five pounds s'z it's th' green lass," Thunder replied.
"And I want a scarf!" Lucy finished.
"...Lucy, a scarf would catch fire as soon as it came in contact with your pantograph."
"Around my rear cab's steering wheel, duh! It's not like I have a face on it or anything." She smiled. "That Percy guy is so insightful! And unlucky. Reeeeeeeally unlucky."
"But wh't a'b't th' bet?" Thunder said.
"Both! Polyamory's totally a thing now, and the best part? Locomotives aren't bound to the same dumb relationship rules humans are!" She grinned. "Like age restrictions! Henry's almost twice my age now!" She sighed wistfully, her yellow cheeks flushing as orange as her livery. "And yet I love him."
"So, how was Lucy?" Gordon asked wryly.
"She was happy to see me again, what more do you want?" Henry asked nervously.
"Hey, nothing like a little playful teasing between brothers."
"And I suppose I could do the same about Caitlin, then? Or that German tender engine at the 2016 Railway Show that Thomas thought was you? Frieda, was it?" Gordon groaned and the flatbeds laughed.
James sighed. "At least you guys got a chance. Sure, I've been a tendersmokebox lately, but I've tried to change!"
"Unfortunately you've taken too many blows to the face for it to stick," Gordon replied dryly.
"I know!" James agreed. "I wish I got that fancy Swiss surgery my sister's probably had, that'd fix me up forever for sure. Why's she here, anyway?"
"The 2022 Railway Show?" Sir Topham Hatt asked the engine in question.
"Yep! Zap and I are participating in the new Teamwork competition!" Jamie replied. "After what happened during the last one when that Canadian jerk tried to attack the PRR A6, the officials who run it established it. Two engines of differing power sources and sexes must complete an obstacle course in the fastest time and with the biggest load they can manage!"
"Ah! Quite clever! I shall have to think about that now," Hatt replied. "But why are you here?"
"Our heritage line got the wrong date and it can't afford to take us back. So here we are."
"I see. Well, you have been a really useful engine, Jamie. And your insights into your brother's desires to stand out may allow us to finally get some sense into him."
"He wouldn't be my brother if he wasn't," Jamie smiled as she left, the four red coaches, Abby, Bryony, Catriona, and Diana, clattering behind her.
"Yeah," Abby grumbled. "Regrettably."
A few hours later at Vicarstown, Diesel Ten was picking up the passengers for his final express. "Alright ladies, batten down the hatches, this is the last time in the foreseeable future that I'm doing this!"
"We're coming along, we're coming along, don't worry!" Wendy, the brake coach, said. The train began to move.
"Hm...I'm a little tired of the same trickety-trock songs, aren't you?" Valentina, the coach in front of her, asked.
"Indeed I am, dear sister," Tabitha agreed. "Nick, would you happen to know of any decent music?"
"I don't sing much, but I've always liked the 1994 cover of the Cotton-Eyed Joe."
"Then sing that!" Diesel Ten's driver inserted the requisite CD, and the diesel began to sing.
If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,
I'd have remarried a long time ago.
Where did you come from? Where did you go?
Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?
If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,
I'd have remarried a long time ago.
Where did you come from? Where did you go?
Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?
"I like this song!" Marli realized.
"So do I!" one of her passengers agreed. Encouraged, Diesel Ten picked up speed and continued singing.
If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,
I'd have remarried a long time ago.
Where did you come from? Where did you go?
Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?
If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,
I'd have remarried a long time ago.
Where did you come from? Where did you go?
Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?
"Is Diesel Ten...singing?!" Edward wheeshed as the express passed Peel Godred.
"And in key, no less!" Gordon added, flabbergasted. Diesel Ten paid them no heed.
If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,
I'd have remarried a long time ago.
Where did you come from? Where did you go?
Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?
If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,
I'd have remarried a long time ago.
Where did you come from? Where did you go?
Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?
The scene switched to Knapford Yard, with Lady shunting, singing to herself.
I've brought disasters wherever I went,
At one time, I was the one that I most resent-ed.
But that all went away, once I got to know,
The ultimate EMD machine painted in gold.
Ooh!
Elsewhere, Diesel Ten resumed his song.
If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,
I'd have remarried a long time ago.
Where did you come from? Where did you go?
Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?
If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,
I'd have remarried a long time ago.
Where did you come from? Where did you go?
Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?
During the banjo solo Diesel Ten remembered his past.
August 19, 1986. Nick was clearing the line of debris from a recent storm. Assisting him was Luis, Diesel Five, attached to Schenectady, the ALCO PB booster unit Alex and Nichole had rescued, and a train of gondolas.
As they were cleaning, they saw Sanders, a Milwaukee Road Class A, pass with an express. Something Nick would never pull despite being based on a passenger locomotive, the bully getting the good jobs every time.
Nick momentarily snarled, his claw clenching as the sense of injustice within him grew ever more.
Back in the yard, Lady was about done with her shunting. As she left, she continued to sing.
I remember the days when I was young and naive,
Before I was exposed to what I couldn't believe.
Before I tried to run away, so that nobody would know,
The burden on my boiler that's made my heart slow.
And then Lady remembered her own past during the next solo.
September 5, 1983. Labor Day. Lady's first birthday would be in a week. Not that anyone would care. Because she was a special services locomotive, she hadn't been allowed to work that day. Unlike the actually productive engines.
Lady groaned as she watched the other engines at the nearby Butler station bustle with their work. Bella, the ex-PRR E2, and Sharknose, the ex-PRR DR 4-4-15 Sharknose version, chatting as their passengers changed trains. Albert, the ex-CNR GMD-GMD1, and Conover, the ex-PRR E44, hauling in their freight trains. And...Miley throwing yet another tantrum about not getting her own elite coaches, frightening Otis, the ex-PRR O1, yet again. Typical.
Suddenly, a shadow appeared over the tank engine. It was Mitch, an ex-B&O EMC EA. He was stoic and imposing. He'd been sent by the B&O to capture Caitlin after she'd escaped her scrapping, but he didn't really care that she was still alive. After Muffle Mountain's original management had treated him far better than the B&O, he switched loyalties completely.
He smirked at Lady. Lady looked behind him and saw his freight train. "I could use some help," he said. Lady's eyes lit up at this.
A little while later, Lady was in front of him, pulling. Mitch slightly decreased his speed so Lady would build up her strength. Cressida, an EMD GP9 who'd lived at Muffle Mountain all her life, passed on her way from a washdown. She smiled at Lady. Lady'd never felt so giddy in her wheels in her entire life.
In the present, Lady sighed.
She missed Cressida.
Diesel Ten continued to sing.
If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,
I'd have remarried a long time ago.
Where did you come from? Where did you go?
Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?
If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,
I'd have remarried a long time ago.
Where did you come from? Where did you go?
Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?
"You're a natural, Diesel Ten!" Billy gasped.
"A natural what?" Paxton asked. "A natural diesel?"
Diesel Ten laughed. "An artist, Paxton my friend. One of the world's best!" He continued to loop through the bends, feeling the wind on his face. He slowed down, protracted his claw, then stopped.
If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,
I'd have remarried a long time ago.
Where did you come from? Where did you go?
Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?
If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,
I'd have remarried a long time ago.
Where did you come from? Where did you go?
Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?
He dropped off his coaches and finished his song as he left.
If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,
I'd have remarried a long time ago.
Where did you come from? Where did you go?
Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?
"...Why is it just now that I notice he's been saying remarried?" Nadia asked, confused.
"Beats me," Carly said, the lead coach shrugging as best as she could. "Maybe he wanted it to be a little happier?"
"Or more personal," Wendy said quietly.
A few days later, a set of power lines had been erected for 200 feet of track. "Okay Zap, how do you like it?" the workman asked.
Zap raised his pantograph and finally rolled on his on power. "Finally! I am FREE! For sixty-vun meters at least." He zipped forwards, then backwards. "Zhis is amazing! Such craftmanship! You'd zhink it vas imported from home!"
"So I guess we're doing it right," the workman said. "Huh. Welp, now we gotta make a lot more of these."
"Zhere vill be MORE?! I'm zho happy I could sing!"
"Save it, Zap, we've already had one musical number this week," Murdoch grumbled.
"Vhy are you so sensitive to sounds anyvay?"
"My smoke deflectors. I've got almost no peripheral vision. So my hearing's extremely powerful to compensate."
"I see. Did not know. Vill keep noise down in future."
"Thanks."
As Zap was shunted away by Stanley, Billy approached. "Oh, hey Billy. What's shaking?"
"Murdoch, why did you choose me to go to the Golden?"
"Well, I thought you were an engine who deserved something special and had something to learn about himself. So I gave you that chance."
"Oh. Thanks." Silence. "Sucks they stopped letting us sleep after 2013, though."
"Yes, it does. You have no idea what it's like with my hearing."
"Yeah, I guess."
"You know, it's funny."
"What is?"
"Diesel Ten has a reputation for everyone being afraid of his claw, right? Well, there were sixteen other engines in the 2000 competition, and I only heard fifteen distinct gasps of terror!"
"No way!"
"Yes way. I don't know who, because the camera wasn't facing that way, but someone wasn't afraid of him. But who could it be?"
Billy noticed Charlie caught up in his jokes. "What's black and white and red all over?"
"A sunburnt penguin?" Stafford groaned.
"Nope! Guess ag-AUGH!" Charlie collided with a lifeless fish van. The van's front fell down, splattering him with fish. A yellowfin tuna got lodged mouthfirst around his whistle, and Charlie vainly tried to whistle the fish off.
"That sound is just awful!" Stafford grimaced.
"Hey, you know you can't tuna fish," Lady mentioned as she passed. Stafford realized this and burst out laughing while Charlie groaned.
"I think I know who that engine might be," Billy mused. "The only engine who's never shown fear when she's in a good mood."
"Fear," Boomer said to the Anti-Lifers, "is a very effective tool for gaining power over others. But if you show fear yourself, you are not effective. Observe." He walked over to the live Class 323 EMU.
She whimpered. "P-please, let me go!"
"Not a chance, punk!" Boomer sliced out a square of metal from her side. "You Lifers are unholy abominations only worthy of scrap metal." He plunged the flame of his blowtorch into her face and sliced it in half, killing her, her face instantly dissipating into a flash of yellow sparkles. A man caught the sparkles. "Put the nanobots with the rest of our munitions."
Suddenly, the phone rang. "Hello?" He smiled. "Two weeks, you say? Why Mr. Hatt, thank you!" He hung up. "Two weeks, ladies and germs. Then we can get scrappin'! See, I'm not afraid. Because I know that we will triumph!"
His horde of maniacs cheered.
Boomer's a looming, and we had a music number because hey, every good special has at least two.
More of the past has been revealed. Billy's looking to dig up some more secrets. And P. T. Boomer's plan may actually work.
What tales of Peel Godred will be told? What tales of tragedy will be told? Will the author get off his tail and write the next chapter?
All this and more in the next chapter – Stand Up!