"Do you know why you are here?"
"How about you tell me?"
"Well- "
…
Dear Miss Allcroft.
Sir Topham Hatt stared down at the letter, swallowed miserably and then threw the piece of paper into the area of his drawer labelled 'scrap paper'. He really was going to have to get used to this, much as he disliked it. Selecting a new piece of paper, he cleared his throat, and began to write again
Dear Mr Asquith.
Congratulations, first of all, on your promotion. I know you to be a good man, and one who will no doubt do his best in this situation that we now all find ourselves in. Please let me express my appreciation for all that you have done thus far and all that you will do in the future.
Please also express that to the cameramen, the editors, the unit directors, the editors and to Mr Angelis that I have nothing against them personally, and that I am sure they all do fine jobs.
I ask you in this letter one thing. Please, if you could, could you have a word with one particular subset of your team?
I refer, of course, to the-
...
"WRITERS?!" roared Gordon at full lung capacity. "ON OUR SHOW!"
"Watch it, ye big lug, or ye'll lose yer voice!"
"You say that like it's a bad thing!" said Henry, sourly.
The first screenplays had arrived at Tidmouth to a grim reception. Yes, screenplays. Apparently, this show was going to be a 'documentary' in the way that the X-Factor is a 'reality show'. I.E. Not really.
"It could be worse." Edward said as best as he could.
…..
TWENTY-SIX EPISODES LATER.
"It could still be worse!" bleated a rather depressed Edward as the last "CUT!" was called, and the film crew decided to spend their few months of rest as best as they could trapped upon this Island.
"Shut the hell up, arsehole!" came the none too helpful reply from Gordon.
"Yeah that about sums it up." James added.
...
(BGM: Britain's Railway-Spitting Image)
Officially, the theme was debuted with the episodes on a national level. However, a rather pissed off workman shoved the following, slightly drunken recording of a very different and yet far more suitable song into the Sudrian shown version.
And thus the theme was cued.
"Here's the NWR for the eighth bloody time
Sold by HIT's crappy childish rhymes
With Hartshorne's music, all kiddified
Preparing our Island to be bastardized.
And here's a drugged up Angelis speaking the verse
If you think that's awful, the future is worse.
Down goes the standard, up go the price
And only kids and retailers will be quite so nice.
There goes the individuality, the unprofitable lot
Just leaving bland stories which will please you not
There are the executives puffing away
Desperately cutting apart Sodor's railways!
With an awful attempt to mimic Awdry's style
To sell to America with an attitude he'd find vile
The money makers in business making a pitch
With the capitalist supporters all getting real rich
The bankers, the stock analysts, the PR men too
Will anyone lose out? Just you!
THOMAS AND FRIENDS
UNTIL WE CAN DO IT CHEAPER.
…..
It was a…oh dear, another one? Another beautiful day? THIS IS BRITAIN WE SPEAK OF. A beautiful day for the British is rain pissing down upon everyone!
What? Oh, OKAY, sure, I've been doing this for ten years, but what do I care?
Fine, it was an adequate day on the Island of Sodor, and it also happened to be Lady Hatt's birthday. With her marriage beginning to bend under the pressure of the merger and the fear that her husband was regressing back into infanthood to try and avoid being dragged off to lose some pounds, she was desperately needing a good, fun old party.
Unfortunately, she lived on the Island of Sodor, where one out of three of those things was possible. And I'll give you a hint, it wasn't the good or the fun part.
There were cakes (Or there were, til her husband ate them all) and balloons (Until her husband sat upon them, save for four which had been handed off to the children) and even a merry-go-round (For her husband, who had decided that he was going to have a fun time on the horses even if it killed him. She lived in hope of that).
But the most exciting of all was the Brass Band.
"So, are you over being such a little bitch about not taking them, Edward?" Gordon asked, callously.
"Yes." Edward said through gritted teeth.
"Thomas, you are to take the brass band! We've got to justify you being in the title somehow, despite being maybe the second least interesting engine of the eight of you."
"Second least?" said a wounded Thomas.
"Well, Toby's not here, so I can say that he's not exactly going to set the world alight, is he?"
"Oh, thanks, I guess." Thomas looked stroppy, to say the least. James and Gordon were upset. Thomas leaving meant that he got to skip the umpteen footage filming scenes, in which they were forced to drag various loads of massive quantities along the Island for music videos and scenes that might be deleted.
It was hell upon Earth.
….
Elsewhere, as a crappier, much less successful brass band began to play a new theme for the show that surely wouldn't blend in with the other fifty pieces of similar nature, Thomas puffed along in a good mood. He arrived at Knapford with good time.
"Another bloody blue train!?"
"I wanted it to be the funny one!"
"Cheek!" hissed Thomas, as he started off. A moment later, James backed down and listened to a rather odd noise from the back coach.
"Typical bloody band! They've left the tart with nowt!" He hissed in empathy. "Even if she is slightly fatter than normal. And greyer. And a man. Who am I to judge?!"
"OI!" shouted the Tuba Player. "Don't leave me behind! I'M THE ONLY ONE OF YOU PEOPLE REMEMBER!"
Thomas didn't hear, which would become a running trend throughout the series. He had quickly gotten so used to hearing rants about more interesting characters getting the shaft that he didn't really pay it much heed.
"Men, am I right?" remarked Emily in a dry manner. No one noticed.
…..
Thomas stopped at Maithwaite to let the band out, breath a bit and maybe stop the complaining of his coaches. Suddenly, the band leader noticed something.
"We've lost nearly 250 pounds! Where is the tuba player?"
"…. Que?" Thomas asked, in the hope that maybe if he pretended to be a visitor, he'd not have to answer any awkward questions.
"We cannot play without him!"
"…. Are you su- "
"Yes!"
"Ah." Thomas hissed under his breath. "A pox upon all tuba players! I may have…left him behind."
…..
Apparently, no one on the Island of Sodor had a working phone, so communication between the stations was nigh on impossible. So as Thomas raised back to Knapford, the Tuba Player had managed to sleepwalk his way down to Bulgy's bridge, which had managed to move places in space and time.
Miracles never cease.
Why the tuba player simply did not wait at Knapford for, to pick one example, the stationmaster to ring to Maithwaite, no one will ever know. He was not particularly bright, was this tuba player. So unbright was he, that he had forgotten his own name, and thus was stuck with the name Tuba Player for the rest of his natural life. Also, he used the word unbright to describe himself.
Serves the bastard right.
Bertie pulled up, looking grimly at him with a face that screamed 'Ah ha, and how many prices can I gouge out of you?'.
"Can you take me to the party?"
"I'll go as far as I can. You're on your own, mate!"
…..
"THE TUBA PLAYER IS LOST! LOST I SAY! LOST IN A CRUEL AND UNFORGIVING WORLD! OH, WHAT A WORLD. WHAT A WORLD."
"The BAFTA's sodded off a long time ago, Thomas." The guard said, wearily.
"Oh well, how big an Island could it be?"
…..
TWENTY MINUTES LATER.
"Oh, chuffing heck, this is massive! Must find him, must find him, oh god I think something went!"
Where could he be?
Why the hell am I asking you?
Bertie had dropped the Tuba Player right above Thomas's head. He didn't say anything because the idiot could go hang. "Bye, loser!" said he, and off he rocketed, right into a ditch.
"Thank you!" laughed the Tuba Player. He took a deep breath. "Right then. Err, cameraman, do you have a mobile on you?"
"Yes."
"Can I use it please?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Not good telly that, is it?"
He sighed and waited. But not for long. For coming down the road was- OH SCREW IT, HER? AGAIN?
"Topham!? This is no time for fancy dress!" snapped Elizabeth the Vintage Lorry as she pulled up. "I can take you as far as the flour mill. Not that you need more pastries in you."
"Thank you." The Tuba Player growled out, and as he climbed aboard, he began to make a terrible din with his tuba.
…..
"Isn't it about time we finished filming for the day?"
"Five-minute episodes are so old hat, Thomas!"
"YOU MEAN WE'RE STILL NOT DONE?!" shrieked the tank engine. Where was this blasted tuba player? By this point he had learnt more about the Island's ecosystem in one afternoon than he had the proceeding twenty plus years of living on the Island. He flew right across the level crossing, cursing the phantom music that seemed to follow him around.
Thomas did not have the ability to put two and two together, it appears.
Seconds later, Elizabeth rolled across the crossing, blissfully unaware that she had missed anything. Well, blissfully was an exaggeration, as the Tuba Player wasn't good.
"WHERE OH WHERE HAS THE TUBA PLAYER GONE?!"
"I'm HERE!" shouted the Tuba Player. He was promptly dropped off at the mill, right besides a slightly bewildered looking Trevor. The camera crew had forced him into position as it was.
"It's almost as if I can HEAR HIS VOICE TAUNTING ME!" wailed Thomas.
"There you are young man!"
"Young man!?" protested Jem Cole. "He's sixty-three!"
"Might as well be five compared to her" The Tuba Player muttered.
"Trevor will take you from here!"
"OH, WILL HE?!" snapped Trevor.
…..
He did.
He moved slowly down the lane at a speed that was quite frankly insulting. Glacial was lightning fast compared to this.
"Maybe the Tuba Player is hiding AMONG THE TRUCKS, this is a genius idea, WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF IT?!" Thomas hissed in outrage, as he was forced to show off the new and very expensive cameras in search of this lone Tuba Player. "I'm sorry, I am not looking through each and every truck, this is humiliating!"
"THIS ISN'T MUCH BETTER!" He bellowed later, as he was forced to peer and shout "Are you in there?" through every single one of the express coach's windows. It was beginning to verge on the hysterical as his voice clearly showed.
He even went onto the main line-
"OI!"
-and swiftly off it again, as Henry raced through. Where was the Tuba Player?
In retrospect, the inability to turn his head to the right was beginning to get a little annoying. Why the cameraman had had to set up such a position there was quite beyond him.
And still the Tuba Player was mocking him with his playing.
He was so distressed that he ignored Butch's warning cry and skidded into the yard. And towards Percy, pushing a few trucks of bunting. He realized it too late.
"Oh, for the love of- "
The truck cracked open, launching bunting into the air and sending it crashing down onto Thomas. The trucks were off the rails, as was he. Percy was upset. "Just look what you have done to my bunting! Now I will have to cook- I mean, fetch some more!"
"To hell with your bunting!" Thomas said, spitting it out. "I'll never find the Tuba Player now! The blasted fool!"
"Hmmm." Harvey had arrived in a slightly camp manner to lay judgement upon the scene. "How did ye get into this mess?"
"I HAVE MISPLACED A TUBA PLAYER. And I shall never live it down, EVER!" Thomas was being overdramatic as per usual. There were many worse things he had done that he would never live down.
"Hmm…look and listen. He's a tuba player, so maybe he is- HOW DID THIS NOT OCCUR TO YE, maybe he's PLAYING his TUBA."
"YOU FOOL HARVEY! THAT WILL NEVER-Wait! He's a tuba player! So, it follows that logically, he may be playing his tuba! I just have to look and listen and follow the sound! I AM A GENIUS."
"You're a prick." Percy growled.
"That's the same thing!" Thomas said, blithely.
….
Two hours later, Thomas was taking his time going around the line. He had gone exactly one mile from the yard at that point, having left Harvey and Percy to suffer on without him.
And finally, he heard the sound of a tuba playing in the distance.
Trevor was beginning to desire the days where his ears weren't constantly bleeding. Or…whatever traction engines had for ears.
"FOUND YOU!"
Thomas practically screamed the Tuba Player into the carriages and took off as fast as he could towards the fete. He arrived at the party just in time…for a right bollocking from everyone involved.
The band played beautifully, Lady Hatt was impressed and she even said it was the best birthday party ever, and then went off and started crying out of sheer depression.
HAPPY ENDING EVERYONE!
….
THE PRESENT.
"Murdoch STOP!"
Murdoch looked at Edward with something approaching mild annoyance, which on that face looked significantly more threatening. "What?"
"Those trucks go in that siding over there! They're for Henry, right?"
"Right."
"Okay, so they can't go here, because Toby's got to take THAT lot later, and there's only one siding past this point."
"You're overreacting."
"Look, listen, we need to get this stuff up and running so that when they come back for the next season, we've got plenty of free time in between shooting. It's…look, it's a plan of ours. Which means, everything in it's place for the moment."
"Gotcha."
"Thank you!"
Edward looked away for a moment, and then looked back.
Toby's trucks were now moved back into the yard, and where they had previously been rested Henry's trucks, with Murdoch backing away. "I-WH-HUH!?"
"There. New place for everything. No prob."
"Ummu, YES, PROB!"
Everyone stopped what they were doing as Edward stormed over to Murdoch and politely, through very gritted teeth, made the best possible request to shift things to a more understandable position. For Toby coming through the yard would mean that the express would be delayed significantly.
Murdoch rolled his eyes and muttered. "Not my problem, mate."
"GOD DAMN IT GORODN WHY DON'T YOU LISTEN TO ME?!"
There was a long silence as everyone slowly ran that sentence (Probably said several dozens of times daily over the course of the last twenty plus years AT least) and then tried to apply it to the current situation.
It did not work.
Even Edward looked baffled at what had come out of his mouth, and he opened and closed it a few times.
"Edward- "
He whirled round "WHAT IS IT!?" He roared.
The Fat Controller looked at him for a moment.
….
"And that is why you have to attend therapy." Hatt informed. "Any questions?"
"Yes. I understand completely now sir, why I have to come here?" Edward took a breath. "Why are they here, though?"
The remainder of the Steam Team glared at him.
"Oh, they're going to therapy as well. Team bonding sessions!"
"I hate you so much." Henry informed Edward.
"Snap. I hate me so much as well."
"So, this is what we're doing for the next twenty-six weeks." Emily grumbled.
WELCOME ONE AND ALL TO THE NEW SERIES.
And welcome to what I term 'Therapy: Or How The Steam Team Nearly Killed Each Other For Real'. And by the by, that's not a spoiler really, because how good could something like this actually go.
Now, reviews!
AaronCottrell97: Season 8 is weird because a lot of the time I can tell there are decent ideas for it, but the execution is not the greatest. It's not good, but it's the closest thing to good we're going to get for a while.
Game-Watch: THAT HE IS. A lot of the fun of the last season or so was writing him as even more of a asshole than he was before, and then revealing a little of the why with the last chapter.
MattPrice01: I'm glad someone noticed that! Thank you, it was a good time.
Radical Sandwiches: Thank you, MY FRIEND. And cry away! Emotions are good things, unless you're on the Island in which case RUN.
GreatWestern1522: Yeeeeeeeeeeeep.
UGX7: I am very glad you agree! It was a lot of fun writing it as well, so that was nice, glad it wasn't a slog to get through like some of Season 7.
jsw: True, very true!
Garchomp65: It's an idea, I can't say anything about that at the present, but it's an interesting idea, thank you!
Guest: Yeah that is the main problem I have with them.
TrainManiac: I HEAR GET MENTAL AND SO IT WAS DONE! Thanks for commenting mate, means a lot!
StreakofScarlet: It's fine, and yes he does. He is...very dumb. XD.
Reality Rejection Service: INDEED HE WAS. TRAITOR!
Chromestone: Agreed, though a little loosening of the Awdry standards like Season 5 doesn't really hurt the franchise, just straight out abandoning it though? It's aggravating.