AaronCottrell97: Agreed. If they had made more episodes, it'd be fine, I think.
Reality Rejection Service: Pretty much it.
Bronze Shield: Bob the Builder is a bit like Thomas, in that it's more a documentary about real life person Bob, and his machine crew, that's been edited down. They are significantly less violent and sweary than Thomas the Tank Engine. And more competent. No one can explain what the fuck Spud is, mind.
Game-Watch: Eh, I wouldn't go as far as to say that. Incompetents, more like. Then again, which one is worse is up to you.
MattPrice01:. Probably! XD.
JD145: I think a YAY is in order!
UGX7: Eh, it's...complex with Carlin. When we get to it, you'll see what happens. I hope.
Radical Sandwiches: He's a real hard ass.
CUE THE...lee than impressive theme music.
"AREN'T YOU GLAD THAT WE'RE YOUR FRIENDS, THOMAS?"
"First of all, no. Second of all, we are not friends, we are barely acquaintances! Thirdly, HOW MUCH AM I GETTING PAID FOR THIS?!"
Thomas's friends-
"GAAAAAAAAAH!"
-were being helped along by the little blue prat to the WAREHOUSE. ...Sorry, had to try and add a little bit of tension in there. Or any. The warehouse, despite it's somewhat blunt name, was not where all construction vehicles go to die, but was instead just a very bland and run of the mill house.
Jack, as he was for most things, was excited to get to work. "HURRY THOMAS!" He bellowed, right into the tank engine's face. "WE GOT SHIT TO DO."
"Oh you can go straight to 'Screw Yourself' avenue!" said Thomas, who was in another of his very bad moods.
"Ignore him, yeah yeah yeah! Jack's always high on sugar and a demanding so and so!"
"Oh what, and you aren't?"
"I'm not on sugar! I'm on SPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-"
"Um, Alfie?" Thomas asked in concern.
"-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-"
"GROUND CONTROL TO MAJOR NOT-MUCK!?"
"-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEdddddddddddddddd." At which point, Alfie shut down temporarily.
...
Soon Thomas had delivered Jack and Alfie to the Warehouse, and demanded a large check for all his hard work and effort. The workmen, having to work with Jack and Alfie on a regular basis, sympathized and paid the money up straight away. Miss Jenny, meanwhile, warned the machines about the very busy site.
"LISTEN UP YOU FECKING WIMPS!"
"Oh yeah, you can tell this is going to be constructive." murmured Isabella to Kelly.
"Pun intended?"
"...Shut up."
"If you kill me, I'll shut up foreve-"
"No."
"Awww."
"This is a bloody busy site, all right!? BE. RUDDY. CAREFUL. I don't want to have to get fierce on ye and throw down, but if I have to, I will! You hear?" She glared at the foreman. "Get to it, small dick!"
Small Dick, or Small Richard as was his actual name, coughed and nervously muttered. "Uh, anyone caught screwing around is getting sent back to the yard post haste. Please can you stop insulting me now, marm?"
"Hmmmmm...NAH."
Ned was worried. He sometimes (Read: Always) cause accidents. And not the humorous kind that people could laugh off. Unless you're a sadist or something which...I don't know, I'm sure there's some people out there who are reading this and laughing. Right? Right? You're laughing? ...ANSWER ME DAMN IT-
...
ACTUAL EXISTENTIAL BREAK.
...
Ahem ...Just...Just ignore what happened.
Ned's banksman could see that he was worried. "Don't worry! I shall make sure that you don't back into anything! They don't call me Hawkeye Norris for no reason, y'know?"
"I didn't even realize he had a name." muttered Kelly to Isabella.
"Same. I think they just get them off an assembly line."
Most of the machines, when they got down to it, were working very, very carefully. Even Oliver, despite apparently being in the midst of a mental breakdown where he stared up into the sky with a slack jawed grin plastered across his face. Byron, meanwhile, was just glad that the Old Oak Tree had not followed him into this busy industrial area.
Byron had yet to realize that the Old Oak Tree was, in fact, a figment of his imagination. ...OR WAS IT- Yes. Yes it was.
Ned's banksman was actually doing his job for once, and guided him around every corner with great care. "WHAT FUN!" said Ned, idiotically inviting Karma to strike down upon him with great power and speed.
And as per usual, Jack was...well, being Jack. He was having fun, but being about as careful as a bull with a jet pack attached to his hindquarters, blindfolded and in some sort of strange, bizarre, especially brittle china palace.
In short, he was about to get into trouble.
"Slow down! You'll get into trouble! Or if you can't, END MY LIFE NOW!"
Jack ignored Kelly. Everyone ignored Kelly. "NOT ME!" said the red idiot. And all began to count down mentally from ten. Even Thomas, who was by this point so bored out of his mind, was counting down. He really hoped Jack wouldn't make a mistake. He didn't want to have to put up with the frontloader for more than was strictly necessary.
Around about the point that everyone assembled got to three, Jack rounded a bend sharply. Around about the two mark, he raced towards a large pile of gravel. And when they got to one, he backed down, harshly.
Right into a large pile of roofing slate.
Well, you can guess what happened next.
Jack's bankman, by the by, was currently face down in the mud, weeping softly for the fall of man and construction vehiclekind. In retrospect, why he wasn't doing his job is anyone's guess. Somehow, NO ONE had seen the mistake. Which if you think about it, is the Island of Sodor in a nutshell. A lunatic runs around screaming at everyone breaks something, and everyone's too apathetic to notice and/or care.
Or in the case of Oliver, who was still doing...whatever the hell it was he was doing, too high.
Jack knew he'd done a boo-boo, but being sent back to the yard was booooooring. And thus, he filled up his bucket and headed away, whistling innocently the whole time.
"Hi Jack!" said Isabella.
"WHAT SLATE DO YOU SPEAK OF?" said Jack, shiftily looking this way and that.
Isabella ignored him.
...
Seconds later, Hawkeye Norris, the fastest banksman in the west, noticed that one of the bollards was not in the correct position it should have been. As he turned to fix it, he waved his hand for Ned to move forward.
Big mistake.
At the loud crunch of Ned's caterpillar tracks smashing the slate to even tinier pieces, Hawkeye turned as if in slow motion. "NNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDDDDD." he bleated. "STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP/"
Ned had, by this time, reduced the slate to less than dust. So this really didn't accomplish much in the grand scheme of things.
"YOU FOOL! You've knocked over that slate!"
"Wasn't me!" wailed Ned. "Didn't do it! I swear on Kelly's life!" He paused. "Wait, hang on, that's a terrible thing for me to swear on-"
But it was no use. There was nothing Ned could do, and so the banksman had to report the incident to Miss Jenny. Which if you think about it, proves that the true enemy of the Pack is the Banksman system.
"It's not fair!" said Ned, as a lone saxophone player highlighted just how unfair it was in the distance. Alfie pulled up besides Jack just as Ned drove away. He was covered from head to toe in muck, having decided to see if he could dig his way to Australia. He had only managed to get as far as the Earth's Core before work had been halted.
"WHERE'S NED GOING?" asked Jack.
"He's going back to the Yard because he screwed up! Thomas is taking him back! LET'S GET MUCKY- wait, that's...the other show."
After Miss Jenny had finished burying the body of Hawkeye Norris, she began to make gestures towards Ned that might have been suggestions of how to get on the flatbed, or might have been suggestions of what would happen if Ned crossed her the same way Hawkeye had. It was hard to tell with her. And it was all Jack's fault.
What do you, the viewers at home, think Jack should do?
.
.
.
WELL?
ANSWER ME DA-
...
ACTUAL EXISTENTIAL BREAK
...
"Where are you going, Cotton Eyed Jack?!"
But Jack ignored Alfie and his silly and bizarre references to other things, and rolled over. "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIITTT!" He bellowed, using every ounce of acting that his coach had managed to impart into him before leaving to become a monk somewhere far away from construction vehicles. "STOP! THAT! TRAIN!"
"I'm not leaving." said a very weary Thomas.
"NED DIDN'T BREAK THE SLATE! ...I MEAN, TECHNICALLY, HE DID, WHEN HE RAN OVER IT AGAIN! BUT TWAS NOT HIM WHO DID BREAK THE SLATE IN THE FIRST PLACE, IT WAS ME! LOCK ME UP! THROW AWAY THE KEY! TAKE AWAY MY LIBERTY-"
"It's not Shakespeare, Jack." said Thomas, drolly. "It's a spinoff show. Odd time to start giving a rat's arse. And did the entire two part episode thing you were in not clue you in?"
"OH LIKE YOU'RE ONE TO TALK, MR SNOWPLOW."
"...Fair enough."
One recap later, Miss Jenny was cross. "It was brave of you to own up, but what am I to do with you, you fecking prat!?"
"SEND ME BACK!"
At which point, the inevitable murder investigation was postponed when Hawkeye arose from the ground, injured but alive.
...
"SORRY NED! I SHOULD HAVE OWNED UP EARLIER!"
"That's all right! Forgiven and forgotten! ...What are we talking about? Ah, who cares! I'm just glad IT WASN'T ME!" And as Ned swung around like a maniac, he nearly completely demolished a nearby water tower.
Miss Jenny sighed, and decided to drink herself to sleep.
Thomas groaned and read off the cue cards. "Well done, Jack. I am so proud of you. And heartwarming statements."
And all the way back to the yard, Jack felt good. He knew he had done the right thing.
...
PRESENT DAY.
"I'M GOING TO WRECK IT!"
The pileup had now become a monster truck rally in disguise, as Byron and Alfie attacked the cars furiously. No one was going to stop them getting to the awards. The others merely watched, and wondered why it was that this was their life.
"I hope no one's in those cars." remarked Kelly.
"Yeah." Isabella agreed. "it wouldn't be good PR...oh, and it's morally wrong."
"Want to remember when we first got Patrick the Prat?"
"OH YES!"
"Sounds like a good way for these parts to bookend this action." agreed Nelson.
"Hmm?"
"Nothing. Just...getting metatextual."