It was a very early morning on the Island of Sodor. So early, in fact, that everyone was still asleep. But the Fat Controller wasn't asleep, he had a railway to run.
He, along with his three assistants, stepped into the dark and dingy halls of the Vicarstown Dieselworks.
"Good morning, everyone." He said, a bit too loud. Jutting everyone awake.
"Diesel, I hope you're well. You're needed for work on Thomas' branchline."
Diesel was not quite awake yet. He yawned, drowsily opening his eyes.
It took a second for Diesel to process what the Fat Controller had said. "Thomas' branchline? Isn't that on the other side of the island?"
The Fat Controller nodded.
Diesel made a little "Hm." Sound. An auditory shrug, you might say.
"So what is it? Does the old coot need help in the yard? Is the blue puffball out sick?"
The Fat Controller shook his head. "I need you to pull Annie and Clarabel."
Diesel thought for a second. He didn't quite recognize the names...wait, aren't those the coaches Thomas are pulling all the time?
"You want me to pull...coaches?" Diesel asked, not quite gripping the situation.
The Fat Controller nodded, again.
"B-but Sir, I only do shunting! Yard work!" Diesel protested.
The Fat Controller's originally cheerful expression dampened into a straight face. "So you're too good for a passenger train, is that what you're saying?"
"N-no…" Diesel replied meekly. "Can't you get another engine to do it? I'm sure that wooden box has nothing better to do. Or...the blue puffball, why can't he pull his coaches?"
The Fat Controller scowled. "Diesel, all the other engithe onlyavailablenes are busy with other jobs. Thomas is needed at the quarry for the next few days."
"But sir, you know that I'm not very fast. I was meant for goods work! Surely, the passengers wouldn't appreciate it." Diesel said, trying to put up a fight.
"A slow train is better than no train at all. Besides, if you have less passengers, that means lighter coaches!" the Fat Controller said, trying to lighten the conversation a bit.
"What if...you switched me and Thomas around? I would do much better in a quarry than with pass-"
"Diesel." Sir Topham Hatt interrupted, firmness in his voice. "Do your work. Don't complain."
"I wasn't-"
"Now."
Diesel bit his lip. He really couldn't fight it, so he started his engine and began making his way to Thomas' branchline.
By the time Diesel arrived to collect Annie and Clarabel, the early morning sun already started poking through the clouds.
He backed up to the two coaches, giving them a hefty bump and letting off smoke. "Helllloooo, Ladies!" He called back. The two coaches coughed and sputtered as he began to pull them away. He couldn't help but laugh a bit.
So off he went, slow and steady. Honking his horn to alert his surroundings and scare off animals. His engine seemed to grind, giving off a noise that could only be described as "industrial."
Once the coaches got past the scent of oil emanating off Diesel, they couldn't help but notice how relatively...slow they were going.
Clarabel kept her mouth shut, mostly out of fear, but Annie broke the silence. "Diesel, can you go...any faster?"
"Sorry ladies, this is my top speed." He replied.
"But we're going a third as fast as we would be going with Thomas!" Annie pouted.
"I said I'm going as fast as I can. It's not like I chose to be this speed, it's just the hand I was dealt." Diesel sneered. He felt a little personally insulted.
So on went their day. Every passenger seemed to get fed up with the speed, and where did those complaints go? Straight to the Fat Controller.
Slowly, he began to think more and more about Diesel's argument. Until he finally admitted to himself, Diesel might've been right.
At the end of the day, Diesel finally pulled into the yard to drop off Annie and Clarabel. Long after Thomas would've been finished.
The coaches were uncoupled, and he pulled forward. Annie made these really exaggerated breathing motions, and announced "Finally! Clean air! I was this close to choking!"
Diesel groaned and rolled his eyes. Until the conversation was broken up by the sharp toot of Thomas' whistle.
And on board, the Fat Controller.
"Diesel, how was your day out?" He asked, a kind smile on his face.
"Awful, sir. Passengers shouted at me at every stop." Diesel frowned.
"I wanted to speak to you about that, Diesel. I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier, and not listening to your criticism."
Diesel replied "Eh, at least no real harm came from it. So same time tomorrow?"
"No, actually. I've decided to switch your and Thomas' places. I want you at the Blue Mountain Quarry first thing tomorrow morning." The Fat Controller replied.
"The blue mountain quarry? That's all the way back near the Dieselworks…" he groaned, knowing he wouldn't get much, if any sleep that night.
Annie and Clarabel piped in.
"So does this mean…" Annie started.
"Thomas is back!" Clarabel finished.
"Thank goodness, I can't stand the smell of his exhaust." Annie complained.
Diesel was in a bit more jovial of a mood. "Not my fault. I don't choose what kind of fuel is put into my engine." Diesel looked over at the Fat Controller.
The Fat Controller just groaned, and everybody had a good laugh about it.
The end.