Ah, the Fogman. Probably one of my favorite episodes of Season 6 as a whole, and the first one that I can recall watching!
AaronCottrell97: Something I am taking great care to do is to not villainize HIT. Primarily because, well, they're just people at the end of the day, doing their jobs. Hence why if I do include Sharon Miller at all in this story, it's going to be a very minor role. I don't make villains out of real life people. But yeah, the Railway Board are the first sign of trouble.
Reality Rejection Service: You could be right! And the three of them are the ones holding the railway together, to be fair.
Game-Watch: That's an actual plot point in the story! Primarily to explain the vast amount of one-off items and engines that pop up in the series.
BronzeShield: Thanks! I am getting there. The shorter chapters are more a result of the comedic angle I'm going for. Once we reach HIT's era, they should start getting longer and longer.
TrainManiac: Expect more mockery of the 'special' line to come! And yeah, Elizabeth just rubs me up the wrong way. It's why I'm glad she's not in that many episodes.
UGX7: Yeah, I guess. Maybe it's just because I felt that the other characters who gave shit, like Duncan and Cranky, got their comeuppance, while she never did. Also, that theory wouldn't surprise me. Either one. The storyline's not going to factor in much in this season. Come Season 7, however, we'll be setting up more of the pieces.
CUE THE THEME!
It was winter on the Island of Sodor. Or at least, it felt like it. The weird weather had completely destroyed the meaning of the Four Seasons. The snow clung to everything like a miser clings to money, and ice had already began to gather on the rails. But to make matters worse, the first fogs were rolling in from across the sea.
Now, while this was fine weather for Salty and people who were naturally opposed to meddling kids and their dumb dogs, this wasn't good for engines or humans. A temporary truce had been called between them all so as not to accidentally die due to some idiot's attempt at a prank. Especially seeing as Allcroft and Mitton were beginning to examine the Sodor Construction Company for a potential spinoff. And the engines wanted the eye very much on them, thank you very much.
Thomas, Annie and Clarabel love the quiet of Misty Valley. A place that you'd swore they had just made up out of nowhere if it weren't for the fact that the Island appeared to be growing more and more every day. It's magic, we don't have to explain it.
Thomas must be careful of rocks that might roll onto the tracks. And also of very stupid people who believe that shouting "STOP IN THE NAME OF LOVE!" while standing on a train track will prove to people who much they love them.
Rocks sometimes fall from the mountain and crush the rails (While looking suspiciously like Styrofoam carved into the shape of rocks and spray painted grey) so when that happens, there is only one man they can call.
Cyril.
Cyril the Fogman is the best. How come you've never heard of him before? Because Cyril the Fogman hasn't wanted you to know about him yet. It was said that when he wants to go to the moon, the moon comes to him. Either Cyril or Chuck Norris, either or. But anyway, his job is to lay down detonators on the tracks to warn the engines of what's to come.
Carlin had tried to help him once. He hadn't since, as apparently detonators did not mean 'Let's hide a ton of C4 beneath the line for a laugh'. Edward had had a little bit of a nervous breakdown following that incident.
So, say that Thomas is passing through the valley. And then-
BANG!
"MOTHER FU-THAT MADE MY AXLES TINGLE! Also, if I had the ability, I would have pissed myself!"
"Keep your axles in your pocket, Thomas." said his driver."Cyril's done his job, as he always does, so we'd better slow down!"
"THANK YOU CYRIL!" shouted Thomas. Cyril, who was there (Some people sleep. Cyril the Fogman lies in wait) waved goodbye, and started setting up more beartraps for any robbers who happened to try their luck against him.
...
That night, the Fat Controller had something special to show the engines. "I had nothing else to do except cry into my pillow, so I'm here with you guys. I wonder if I should rethink my life choices." Topham shrugged. "Observe, you lot. This will be on the test."
The thing was very large and strange looking. And judging by the fact that it had the words 'FOG' and 'WARNING DEVICE' written upon it, it was obvious to all and sundry what it was.
"WHAT IS IT!?"
Almost all and sundry.
"This, Percy, is a fog machine!"
"Are we holding a rock concert?!" Henry asked, cautiously enthusiastic.
"No! It's a railway fog horn, new invention by the lands at SIT! It warns you when there is fog about!" And he switched it on. For the next three minutes, the engines were bombarded by blast after blast of the horn. It was more painful sounding than an entire sermon by James on the matter of maintaining one's boiler to the proper standards. Tiles were shattered, small children started to cry, pregnant women went into labor, the firemen were called out (And called back in again, as they were rejects from Trumpton) and all wished that it would stop.
Even after it did, Percy's eyes continued to spin maniacally. "THAT'S LOUD!" he declared, master of the understatement.
"WHAT?!" shouted a deafened Henry.
"TOO LOUD!" James grumbled.
"WHAT?!"
"MORE LIKE A TUGBOAT TO ME!" snarled Gordon.
"WHAT?!"
"BUT SIR, WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO CYRIL?!"
"HE WILL BE RETIRED, BESIDES THIS FOGHORN IS THE FUTURE...also, stop shouting."
"WHAT?!"
"I SAID STOP SHOUTING!"
"WHAT?!"
"STOP SHOUTING!"
"WHAT!?"
"STOP. SHOUTING."
"WHAT!?"
"Poor Cyril!" wailed Thomas, dramatically. "HE'S BEEN SCRAPPED!"
"Get a grip, Thomas." said a very tired Duck.
...
The next morning, Percy was cheerfully chuffing through Misty Valley with a train of trucks when suddenly the entire world turned into one constant loud blaring noise. The fog machine had been put into action.
And into a really stupid position.
"OH SHIT. It's making my head ache and there's no axle tingling to be having!"
"...You engines and your confusing likes. But enough of that, Perce! We better slow down, even it does mean that Reece will probably get the last jammy dodger, that bastard!" Carlin muttered and growled his way through the rest of the valley.
But the foghorn had managed to shake the mountain significantly. In retrospect, this was a very poor idea. No sooner had Percy rounded the bend and gone from sight, then one rock fell. Then another.
And another.
And ano- You get the idea.
Before long, the avalaunche had blocked the track significantly. And the foghorn was crushed.
Once again, whoever had placed it there was a massive idiot.
And not far away, Thomas was puffing happily with a long line of vans right on time. He was so happy that it was almost as if Karma and Fate (Her brother) had worked together to ruin his day. He plowed ahead into the fog. "WHAT?! I CAN'T SEE A THING!" And before he could even think (HA! Thomas, think? As if!), it was too late.
"BUST MY BUFFERS!" He shouted, as he spun helplessly atop the huge pile of rock. "What the hell happened to that bloody foghorn!? And when will Bust My Buffers catch on!? It better be a meme at this point!"
"I don't know, and no, it isn't a meme. But at least no one's hurt!"
"Oh, that's not going to be the case for long!" snapped the fireman, trying desperately to get a firm grip on the cab. "Toby'll be along in a few minutes, with Henrietta! We've got to get out of here before we die too!"
"Coward! There's no foghorn, so he'll run smack dab into us!"
"LEAVE IT TO ME!" said a heroic and manly voice.
"CYRIL! WE'RE SAVED...I hope he's in time."
...
"Yeah? You've not heard a thing from them? Bloody hell, that's not like them, Duck. Look, I don't mean to be pushy, but try once more. And if that doesn't work, it might be worth the two of us getting Edward together for another chinwag. Right, hold up Duck, the signal here is crap. See you later." As Toby heard Duck hang up (Sellotaping a cell phone to his head had surprising advantages), he trundled along with Henrietta. Not for the first time, he was looking for a well-earned drink at the next station.
He was just picturing the strange cocktail he would order when a loud BANG shook him from frames to sideplates. "OOH ER!" He said, going a bit camp for a moment. "Fog detonator!"
"Must be fog ahead! Better slow down!"
"Thank you, driver, I didn't put those two things together."
"Don't be a sarky git, Toby, this is why no one likes you."
So they did slow down. Just around the next bend and with his axles still tingling away, and Toby suddenly felt very glad that they did. Otherwise, they would have crashed into Thomas's wreck. Which, funnily enough, was what most of the critics referred to his movie as wen the box office figures came in. I'll be here forever, thank you very much.
Soon, the Smiling Tractor God known as Terrance arrived to clear the tracks alongside the breakdown train, as pulled by Percy. "And if it hadn't been for Cyril, all praise him, Toby would have had a worse accident than me!"
"Instead of replacing Cyril with the foghorn, we'll replace the foghorn with Cyril! Yes, all part of my plan!" bullshitted the Fat Controller. "You are clearly far more reliable than any piece of tat the Railway Board could put together!"
"Ta mate!" said Cyril, who had always known that he was in with a job.
"Hmmm...the Railway Board again. Oh, and thanks, Cyril."
"You may not be brand spanking new, and those inventions are all very well..." Thomas said, waiting for Percy to finish off the sentence with a meaningful statement of some kind.
"But they don't make our axles tingle!"
That was not the meaningful statement Thomas had been hoping for.
And Now, A Message From The Sodor Health and Safety Department.
For the record, if your axles are tingling, please consult your local GP immediately.