This one is a treat. See, this is one of those episodes where railway realism can go hang in my opinion. There's something delightfully nuts about the four minutes here, very Season 5 esque. Plus, Angelis's narration is once again a treat. Next time is another of my favorite episodes of the season, and it's the last one of the standard gauge engines. Hence, any bits in the last three episodes of the season will be original/moving the story forward. And finally, the Abridgement story is progressing. It's just that it's most likely to come out after I've completed Season 6 and as I work on Jack and the Pack.
Oh, and the bit at the end. Essentially, it's my way of teasing what I have planned over the next few seasons. Ain't I a stinker?
AaronCottrell97: Same.
Reality Rejection Service: Well, we'll just have to see, won't we? ...And yes, he was shot. But...well, I did leave the door open, so to speak. We'll be getting some more information on him over the seasons.
Bronze Shield: I'm really glad!
Game-Watch: Perhaps it was! The Great Mouse Demon of Sodor!
MattPrice01: Oh yeah, I'm really glad someone caught that!
Radical Sandwiches: Right? Yeah, Thomas slips back into his Season 1-3 personality here.
Guest: Yeah, that's about right.
CUE THE THEME!
Right, right, okay, what does the script say this time?
Oh right.
Gordon is a very proud steam engine-
Okay, for the record. Do you really need me to tell you this? Okay, if this is your first time, I understand, really, I do. But for the love of God, we're not exactly venturing into new territory here. We're not talking 'Here There Be Dragons' or anything like that. You know the drill. Gordon is a tosser. End of story.
Ahem, right. Um, fastest engine on the Island of Sodor, blah blah blah. Loves racing across the line, blah blah blah. Wind blowing across his funnel, blah blah blah blah BLAH. MOVING ON.
So all the engines were gathered at Knapford Station, primarily so that they could all discuss the fact that they were getting massive paychecks because of all of the merchandise. Except for Edward, who had to take a massive pay-cut. It is not a good life, being Edward. Especially considering that he had only now been told of the plans to shut down his branch-line for the time being.
"You've broken the record again!" said his driver.
"And my arm!" wailed his fireman.
There was no record, really. His driver just told Gordon that to enable his egocentric ways. In many ways, perhaps it would have been better to slap Gordon across the face and tell him to suck it up, like Edward had often wanted to do throughout the years. So when Gordon said things like, as he did now "I'M THE FASTEST!", everyone would not immediately roll their eyes and remark silently to themselves: Oh, really?
But back to business.
The engines were not impressed. "Speed isn't everything!" sniffed James in a particularly James-like way.
"Neither is being a complete prick, and yet you insist upon it." remarked Henry, softly.
"Being Reliable and Really Useful is!"
"Shut up Thomas." said all the engines.
Gordon took it further. "You slow engines will never understand the responsibillity that I hold! It's almost more a curse than a blessing! ...Ah who am I kidding, it's definitely a blessing!"
The Fat Controller arrived to give news of the macguffin- I mean, plot device- I mean...special. Yeah. The special was for Thomas, of course because who else would it be for? "I want you to take the- Stone the crows it's bright! Where the hell did that sun come from!? ...Er, anyroad, go to the Docks, collect the Jet Engine and take it to the airfield. You know which one."
"What's a jet engine?"
"I'll give you three hints, Percy. And the first two don't count."
Percy looked at Hatt blankly.
"Ugh. It's an engine that moves forward by pushing hot air out of it's back."
"Just like blowing up a balloon!" Thomas said, helpfully.
"Or Sir once he's had too many cream buns." muttered James, who was in a rebellious mood.
...
Thomas likes making special deliveries for the Fat Controller. It makes him feel...special. And if you watched the last episode, you'd know how well that usually goes. I.E, not at all. Secretly, he wished he could go as fast as Gordon.
But then he wouldn't be able to go "NYAH NYAH!" to one of the Scottish twins. Every cloud has a silver lining.
Thomas arrived at the dock, keen to see what the jet engine looked like. "HOLY-" The last word was drowned out by the exceptionally loud blast of the ship's horn. He wasn't entirely sure why there were a ton of boxes on the jet engine, that looked a little unsafe. But whatever, he was going to look...well, not grand, exactly. Or special. Or even that impressive.
"I'm going to look like a prat with that attached!" he murmured.
"So different than usual then!" snapped Cranky.
"Piss off Cranky! And hurry up! This is a special special!"
"WHY WON'T YOU LET ME DIE?!" wailed the crane. He was in no mood to take any shit from anyone today, and especially not an engine like Thomas. But so cranky was he, that he was careless with his hook. Somehow, instead of accidentally ripping off the control panel, his hook switched the lever on by accident.
There was a singular pause as everyone in the harbor realized what was about to happen. Except for Thomas, who as with that infamous time with Gordon and the express, was a minute or so behind everyone.
"Oops." said Cranky.
"OH HECK!" said his fireman, leaping off and running away.
"Dum dum dum dum, da da, dum." hummed Thomas, blissfully unaware that anything was about to happen. The jet engine began to slowly hum as well. Then it whined. And then it roared.
At which point, Thomas turned around and frowned at the sight of the large red plume of frame coming out of the back of the jet engine. "Hang on a second, is it meant to do-"
There was a bright flash and Thomas promptly vanished from sight. Cranky's mouth dropped, as did his monthly earnings once word of what he had done got back to the higher ups.
"-THAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!?" shrieked Thomas, his lips pulled back exposing most of his gums as by some miracle, he rocketed round the bends. The William Tell Overture was playing loud and clear in his mind, along with a loud siren shouting "OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT TOO FAST TOO FAST TOO FAST SOMEONE STOP."
Unfortunately, the driver was about as useful as a chocolate teapot. He tried to put on the brakes, but the jet engine was doing the majority of the pushing, and this had no effect on how fast Thomas was going. "OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH BOOOOOOOOOOYYYYYYY!" He screamed as he raced through Lower Tidmouth, shocking Dowager Hatt and Jerimiah Jobling, who were waiting for a train to...have a little snog in a private carriage. Sir Topham would not approve.
All over the Island, managers phoned as many of their employees as they could. The Stationmaster at Lower Tidmouth passed the message on to Dryaw's, just as Thomas rushed by screaming bloody murder. "BLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODDY MUUUUUUUUUUUURDERR!"
"CLEAR THE LINES! THERE'S A RUNAWAY TRAIN! WHAT?! NO THIS ISN'T A PRANK!"
And so the lines were cleared, engines rushed into yards and hid themselves behind line after line of trucks. Signals were set, points were changed, all done so that Thomas had the free run of the Island. Thomas had never been so excited...and so terrified.
He raced through Maron, past James.
"WHAT WAS THAT!?" asked James, wondering if Toad had gotten loose again. This all felt very familiar. "WHY IS THERE ALL THIS GRAVEL ON ME!?"
Thomas took Gordon's Hill completely by surprise, smashing up it with the speed of twenty gazelles, scaring the living hell out of Henry, who vowed to leave off the alcohol for a week at least.
Percy did a double take as Thomas zoomed under a bridge and past him. "Oh god, I need some stronger meds." He wailed.
Thomas, meanwhile, was beginning to wonder if this was what being enlightened felt like. "HOLY SHIT I CAN SEE EVERYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYTHIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!" The tank engine sped on, his driver by this point huddling on the floor in terror.
Bertie was excited as he saw Thomas literally flying down the track. "Fancy a race Thomas?!"
"HOLYSHITBERTIECALLFORHELPPLEASEOHGODMAKEITSTOP!"
"Uh...never mind."
No one had ever seen an engine go so fast. Unfortunately, Thomas had now reached such a speed that the sound barrier was breaking at least three times per minute, and thus left the tracks for a short time. He promptly flattened five chicken houses, took out five people named Norris and nearly scared the smile off of Terrance, before he landed roughly back on the rails.
Gordon, however, had not heard any of this. He rushed along the viaduct feeling his usual smug self. Seconds later, Thomas followed him, all the while screaming incoherently.
"I AM THE GREATEST! Watch me fly!"
As they came up towards another one of the hills, Thomas rounded the bend and rocketed along to a dumbstruck Gordon. "HIGORDON! BYEGORDON! NYAH NYAH, GORDON!"
"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-?" said the big engine.
Once they had cleared the tunnel, Thomas carried on for another four minutes (During which he destroyed several trucks, the memorial to the victims of the Great Duck Plague and also most of his remaining sanity) before at last, the jet engine ran out of power and he came to a none-too graceful stop. Oh sure, people claim he came to a gentle stop in Knapford Station.
Those people are wrong.
Because if not, answer me how the hell Gordon managed to beat the puffball back.
Go on.
I'll wait.
.
.
.
.
.
You can't, can you!? HA! I WIN!
...Sorry, right, story.
Thomas was now stunned into complete silence. So his driver did a rather poor imitation of his voice. "Sorry for overtaking you back there, Gordon!"
"OVERTAKE ME!? I didn't notice!" Gordon could bullshit with the best of them.
"You didn't notice the fastest engine on the Island?" asked Henry, stirring the pot.
"YESIAMTHEFASTESTENGINEANDIHATEITIWANTTOGOHOME." Thomas said, all in one breath.
Percy was feeling a little sorry for Gordon. For some reason. "Gordon doesn't have to go as fast as a jet engine. He's a steam engine!"
"Thanks for that. We didn't know before." James murmured. "But he's still full of hot air!"
Gordon wheeshed away in a huffe.
Thomas wheeshed away to be violently ill in the corner of the yard.
...
02/01/02
For the purposes of the story, we will note that there is no discernable discourse of the previous types found in this letter. On it, there are merely scribbles of pictures, crude ones but surprisingly disturbing ones. There are words, but most of them are overlapping over each other, so it is near impossible for us to find out what they are.
Save for a few.
THE WEAPON IS COMING.
PRAY.
DON'T TRUST THE-
OLD SINS WILL FIND YOU OUT
ALIAS-ALIAS-ALIAS-ALIAS-ALIAS
MIRROR MIRROR
Beware she who wears yellow
THE JESTER CANNOT/SHOULD-NOT/MUST-NOT BE TRUSTED!
LOOK UP TO THE SKY.
HE WILL SAVE US ALL. ONE WAY OR ANOTHER.
The writing is not that of the mysterious 'J.D'.
No. This is someone else entirely.
Or possibly, something.