You'll note that I've started to write out one final member of the cast with this episode. He'll appear in the relevant episodes and such, but for the moment this is his last appearance in the present day. Episode itself could be better, could be worse, at least it's tangentially related to railway safety and such.
Now, reviews!
AaronCottrell97: Pretty much. :/
Game-Watch: Pretty much, all things considered.
MattPrice01: I'm sorry! XD. That's a good series, not a patch on their work on Top Gear for me, but it's a lot of fun to watch, so I apologize for interrupting your downtime! XD. I'm glad you enjoyed it all the same, I hope I make it interesting.
Radical Sandwiches: Indeed, dark times! And I gave it a quick read, I thought it was very good indeed!
Australian Guest: The weather services on this Island have to have a therapist there every single day, just in case.
UGX7: I am in agreement with all of that, pretty much.
jsw: I just really like writing characters shouting for some reason. XD.
Garchomp65: Yes, he went off with them, I'll add a little note in this chapter to explain it.
Guest: Yep, there is going to be a lot of that, trying to keep my sanity in all of this.
StreakofScarlet: Things were a bit stressful when I wrote this, I had to get some catharsis out of it somehow. XD.
Reality Rejection Service: You never know. *shrugs*
UltraGX66: Pretty much! LOL. There is a reason, but that waits until next season.
Aussie Mantis: Aw mate, this means a lot! Thank you! I've tried to plan out as much of it as I can. I honestly forget whether or not I just misheard. Herr Gutze's name when I was writing it, I was quite obsessed with Shed 17 at the time and I wanted to write in something related to it as soon as I could, so *shrugs*. And YES, Ivor is based off Death from Discworld, probably one of the best characters in fiction...ever? In my opinion. It means a lot to be compared to the old SiF stories, they're a major inspiration! I hope I live up to your expectations.
THE PRESENT.
"What the hell do you mean, WE'RE FIRED?!" Carlin roared, fronting up to the production crew with all the threat and menace of a tortoise in hibernation.
Jasper Drampf was unmoved by this show of masculine superiority, and instead casually began examining the latest batch of scripts. Terrible, terrible, oh and what was that, yes, another terrible one. He glanced up. "They still here?"
"Unfortunately."
"Right, listen, Carlin. Buddy. It's time for you lot to leave, because you've had a good run, and really, we don't think you're suitable for the job anymore."
"Oh really? And what are you going to get to replace us? Evil Edna with her f**king magic antennae's!?"
"No. Just a system that doesn't mean that every time the engines leave the sheds, they're not smashing their way through a village or three." Jasper smiled. "Oh, and the fact that you ruined my father's election chances…that helps also."
"Well you'll have to f**king drag me from this very spot if you want me gone!"
Seconds later, the hired goons deposited Carlin none too gently in the nearby canal, and with a squawk, he was sent hurtling down the stream. The age of the driver and the fireman was over, apparently. Along with the age of the brake-van, now that Toad had departed with the other three escapees.
…..
It was winter. Or, in Island of Sodor terms, March. For once, this could not be blamed on the weather itself. No, apparently the second episode HAD to be set in winter. Hence why Murdoch was forced to chuff around the entire Island bringing snow and ice to all who asked for it (None) and those who didn't (All) in service of the plot.
You're welcome, fans!
The engines were busy going back and forth between stations (And complaining about the several wind machines that were consistently blinding them as they passed by) and having to warn people that they were coming.
For Gordon, this was not an issue. It is rumoured that people in Japan hear Gordon shouting so often that it's actually been worked into their daily schedule. But for the smaller engines who weren't as used to screaming at the top of their lungs like him, they needed something else.
So they have to blow their-
Stop sniggering at the back, you lot. How old are you?!
Right. Steam engines blow their whistles. In case you've missed the previous seven seasons worth of content. See, for context, here is James blowing one off right now- SHUT UP SHUT UP THAT WASN'T WHAT I MEANT AND YOU KNOW IT. And diesel engines, like Salty, blow horns.
Jokes about how Salty, a seafarer, would be used to be blowing things will be reported to the local authorities for bad taste.
One day, Percy took some trucks to the smelter's yard. We'll ignore for the moment that it looks an awful lot like the quarry and roll with it. Because Percy is a masochist, he whistled to Arry and Bert to say hello.
They laughed.
The rotters.
"Call that a whistle!?" asked Bert.
"Yes. Because that is what it is called."
"Listen to THIS!" And Bert blew his horn loudly. Ladies shrieked in surprise-That's the last joke I'll make on that subject…probably. Maybe not. Probably not.
"Diesel's can everything better than steamie's!" They sneered, as one…somehow.
"My whistle is as good as your horns!" Percy declared, trying to ignore the fact that the rest of his body hadn't stopped shaking yet. "Just you wait and see!"
"We won't." said Arry and Bert. Or tried to, through all the smoke that was being blasted not their faces.
….
Percy began to practice whistling louder-
"Shut up!" hissed Carlin.
-And louder-
"Shut up!" snarled Carlin.
-And Louder still.
"SHUT UP!" roared Carlin. Percy was satisfied now that he could surprise Arry and Bert as soon as he saw them next. And meanwhile, Henry and Toby were forced to pick up the slack in terms of actual work.
He snuck back around to the quarry (Oh now we're correcting that, are we?). He rolled around behind the two of them, took a very deep breath and blew as loudly as he could. Make your own jokes on your own time please.
Arry and Bert's hard-man image was shattered instantly, as they shook, screamed and raced forward.
"I told you my whistle was as good as your stupid honky horns!"
"WHAT?!" shouted the two of them, who had been deafened.
"EXACTLY!" crowed the little green bastard as he rolled out of the yard whooping and shouting his own praises.
….
Percy was now hungry for power. His loud whistle was going to be the talk of the town, even if it meant that he had to kill someone.
I'm only half joking about that last one too. You should have seen the look in his eyes as he spotted Thomas. He took a deep breath and-
"OH NO! THE WAR!" Thomas rammed his head straight into the trucks, recovered and looked around to see Percy grinning like a fool. "Ruddy twit!" He hissed. "That's not funny, and you know it isn't!"
Percy didn't. And even if he had, he would not have cared in the slightest. For now, Percy had one thing that he had never had before in his life.
An extremely powerful weapon.
He was greatly exaggerating the capabilities of his whistle, but to him, it was like being on Henry's drugs without all the screaming and the flashing noises and the nightmarish visions.
And then he saw another victim. Bertie the bus was moving down the road and wondering why they had gone to all the trouble of icing it over, when Percy took another deep breath and blew loudly.
"MOTHER-!" He slid sideways, and then smacked off the road. He looked up, enraged. "PERCY! CURSE YOU AND YOUR POORLY CGI-ANIMATED WHISTLE STEAM! …Wait what?"
But the green troll gave not one care give. For he was now Percy, the Chaos Lord of the Rails, and he would be recognised as such.
….
"So, if you hold him down, I'll get the rock to bash his head in."
"Sounds like a plan."
If you're thinking that this is a normal conversation for Captain Zero and the Malignance to be having, you'd be right. A shame then, that they weren't having this conversation, it was being had by Henry and Emily at Tidmouth sheds that night.
Percy had not shut up, so at last, Thomas had stormed in, and there had been a blazing row about how much of a monster Percy was. "You made Bertie skid across the road, and my trucks got damaged! And also, my ears are ringing!"
"We don't have ears."
"AND THAT'S YOUR FAULT AS WELL! Please STOP!" Percy was sorry, though even he didn't remember being the engine who caused the great ear-loss epidemic.
And eventually, Thomas got him to promise to stop surprising his friends.
Percy agreed.
One night later, Thomas had had to have another talk with him, with assistance from Edward, that no, hurting people who weren't his friends was not such a good idea either. Even if he did, personally, find the expression on Arthur's face hysterical as Percy let loose his whistle at full blast.
The day after THAT, Percy was bringing back the milk train from the depot. He was busy sulking. "I wish I could have one more loud whistle!" He moaned to himself.
"Percy, every time ya speak, I hear that f**king whistle, if that helps!" snarled Carlin. He sighed. "So I'm going to go take a leak."
"Are you sure that's wis-"
"I would consider the fact that we've been working with each other for nigh on eighteen years give or take should give you a little insight into the way my wind works!" Carlin unzipped his pants.
"I don't want to see this." Muttered the fireman.
With the two of them distracted, Percy looked around. No people or engines around to disturb him. Just him, two idiots and the lonely rails.
Well, in for a penny in for a pound.
But what Percy hadn't seen was that Trevor was taking food to the farm animals. Why, he wasn't sure. But since Terrance had disappeared completely off the map save for rare occasions where he crawled out, muttered something in tongues and then returned to whence he came, he was stuck doing the good deeds.
The animals had been unable to find any grass since the winter had started. Unfortunately, Norris the Farmer had given Trevor the wrong type of grass. If you don't know what I'm talking about, ask your local dealer.
"One of them is humping me." Jem Cole said in a strained voice. "Please stop."
Percy took a deep breath, and let out his biggest blow yet. Carlin shrieked and threw himself forward, off the train and into the snow, still de-trousered. But there was even worse up ahead (Though Carlin would argue otherwise).
Percy had blown so loudly that Trevor practically leapt backwards, knocking his trailer into a log which rolled down the hill which was covered in snow that ended up on the leg that knocked the cat that caught the rat that ate the rope that was in the garden next to the house that Jack built and thus he was able to declared MOUSETRAP!
Or something, I don't know. This grass really is something, you know.
By this point, the giant snowball was lurching towards the tracks, and towards Percy, who was still feeling like a god after that particular stunt. "BACK SNOWBALL!" He bellowed in a tone of voice that indicated he was of the belief that he was now the lord of the elements. "BACK I SAY!"
It must have been an atheistic snowball, for it paid no heed to the voice of God, whom promptly remembered that he was, in fact just plain old Percy and his driver was currently having to make sure that he hadn't just Christmas Story'd himself with his unmentionables. "OH SH-"
We can probably finish the last word off, for the snowball hit Percy and….did practically nothing. The log, however, took care of the remaining brain cells that he had had on offer. "Thiiiiisss snow looks like it's been painted white!" he declared in a slightly slurred tone of voice.
No one was hurt. Well, save for all who were. Carlin on the other hand, was so angry that for a moment words seemed to fail him.
"FOOL YOU F**KING, DOING WHAT YA THINKING WERE?!" He declared. It took them a good three minutes to even decipher what it was that Carlin was trying to say, at which point he slipped on the ice seven times, and continued to hold his groin in an agonised manner. "ALL THE CARLIN JUNIORS!" He wailed.
"I'd help, but-" The fireman shrugged. He had figured that he was in for a long wait, and thus had started up his tea.
"You bastard." Carlin hissed. "I didn't save the Island for this SHITE! I'm going to have to go for help!" He staggered off, slipped and landed nose first in the ice. "I hate this! I HATE THIS SO MUCH!" He ranted as he staggered off. He left Percy to freeze and to think, though he did far too much of one and far too little of the other.
Luckily for him, he managed to see Thomas not too far away. Carlin, that was. Unluckily, he was de-trousered, ranting and severely snow-covered, so it took him a while for him to convince Thomas's own driver and fireman that he wasn't just a rabid homeless person, and could they put down the shovels, stop hitting him and come and help?
Oh, and the Fat Controller was also there. Why he was in the cab and not the workman's carriage, who can say? He was pissed, and jumped from the footplate.
He went straight through the snow, so he had to shout his rebuke while being chin-deep in the frozen water. "Whistles are for safety! And for private use only! Not for playing games out in public! You're also being a real prick about it! You must only use your whistle when the time is right!"
"And when's that?
"Oh, I don't know. The end of the world, perhaps."
"Fine." And he promised not to use it unless it was a case of desperate times and/or measures.
….
One day later, Percy was tired and sick of having to deal with…well, everything. He had had to put up with several comments about the incident from the others. Gordon had named him 'Napoleon', Henry had offered up the nickname 'The Ugly Siren' and James had gone for the cleverest one of all, 'Fat Nose'.
He was, by this point, heartily angry at his own whistle, and at his driver, who was still sulking over the many, many injustices he himself had faced.
Percy exited a tunnel and gasped. A big snowdrift had fallen onto the tracks….big being subjective. I've seen bigger. But still, it was a very dangerously looking average sized snowdrift.
And then he heard a whistle. It was Thomas, on his way!
"Oh, well, he's doomed." Percy the Vengeful Engine said. "We did all that we could, but I'm not allowed to whistle ever again, EVER."
"Percy, if you don't do this, I'll take away your Toys R Us subscription."
"BUT I'M A TOYS R US KID! I must WARN him!" He took the biggest puff he had ever taken (AGAIN, I hear you cry? AGAIN, I answer, in agony) and blew as loudly as he could.
"Something had better be wrong, or I'm going to have to forgo the normal peaceful ways and-HOLY SHIT SNOW!" Thomas put on his brakes, and came to a stop (Say it with me now) just in time!
The amount of steam that arose really was too big for words, and thus no one was able to speak for a good three minutes.
"CINDERS AND ASHES!"
"Indeed! What a surprise!"
"NO. LITERAL CINDERS AND ASHES. IN MY THROAT. BURNING ME UP! AARRGH!"
"Thank you Percy?" asked the eponymous engine. But unfortunately, Thomas was too busy choking and having gallons of ice shoved into his throat to answer him properly so they had to dub it over in post.
….
That evening the Fat Controller came to the sheds, Thomas having had a massive smile literally slapped on by the camera crew. He was still screaming internally. "You're a really useful engine and you stopped a nasty accident. Well Done."
Percy was so proud his firebox tingled. He uses his whistle safely now, and all are glad to see him.
That was how the episode ended.
Reality, meanwhile, intruded rather abruptly.
The cameras were shut off, Hatt flipped them both off and he stormed off, leaving Percy to deal with Thomas, who was pissed off.
In short, all was off.
Thomas, luckily, took the brunt of the mocking nicknames this time (Including 'Ash Wednesday', 'Fire-Engine Sam' and, most humiliating at all 'Thomas the Weaker Than Arthur Engine') and his pride began to pulsate with rage.
But that is another story.
…..
THE PRESENT.
"So, what's the deal?"
The eight engines were waiting in the yard in a cold kind of fury. Edward hadn't said much, except for "Sorry" and "My mistake" and "Okay, you're pushing your luck a little" since he'd gotten them dragged there.
"Apparently-" said Henry, glaring at Edward again "-the therapist's had to get some work done before he came here."
"Look, it'll be fine." Emily sounded unsure though. "He'll be a wee old man who talks a lot about how we should all hug each other and learn to understand one another-"
"HA! What a FREAK!" Gordon shouted.
"-and then we'll all get to go home."
"Sounds great." Thomas grinned. "Besides, he'll probably be inoffensive-"
"Coo-ee!" said Arthur, bounding into the yard. Thomas's face went seven shades of purple all at once, and the rest of the engines desperately tried to look somewhere, anywhere else. "Hello lads, what a turn up for the books, eh?"
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" thundered Thomas.
"Oh, I had to study to become a therapist for my BAFTA nominated series about life in the psychological world! It was quite interesting actually, got a lot of people interested in the art!" Arthur was, as per usual, blind to the fact that every word he spoke made Thomas seeth with pure hatred.
"And you're….our therapist?" James glared at Edward, who sheepishly found a particularly interested section of wall to look at.
"Yes, I was rather surprised as well! Now, let's start off with a simple idea! Let us go around the yard and introduce ourselves to each other."
"Arthur, we were at your Beginning-of-Season party at the start of the year. I think we know each other.
…..
ARTHUR'S BEGINNING OF THE SEASON PARTY, THE START OF THE YEAR.
"AANNNNNNNNNNNND IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII- WE'RE ALL SCREWED- WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOUUUUUUUU!"
"Second that eejit stops that caterwauling, I'm going off to do something less painful, like take the Flying Kipper out again." Henry hissed.
"Yeah, no, according to the contracts we have to stay here for a good two hours more before we can even think about moving onward."
"But Toby-"
"YOU'RE MADE OF METAL, HENRY! I'm made of wood! That bouncer could rip through me like Bauer through terrorists!"
"What a timely reference, Toby."
"Thank you, I've been watching a lot of it. It reminds me a lot of this entire bloody escapade. At some point there's going to be a random lion popping up and trying to attack us."
"Make a difference from…I don't know, what even is James doing anymore?"
"Failing."
"Ah, that's the word." Henry flashed Toby a grin. "Fancy doing a power ballad?"
"Whitney Houston, Bonnie Tyler, whatcha got for me, Square-Wheels-"
"RUINED!" wailed Gordon. "IT'S ALL RUINED!"
"It's okay, Gordon-"
"BOG OFF, EDWARD!"
"All right." Edward headed to the other two. "So, what a mess, eh? …What's this about contracts? Emily said we can't go because we signed contracts, which I…haven't?"
"Huh….Oh, OH, right, no I see what it is now. You were shunting when the guy came up to us."
"So I technically don't need to be here!?" Edward tried to hide his grin and couldn't quite help it.
"Nah, we signed for you."
"….Okay."
"I mean, we can't all have fifteen percent." Henry agreed. "Someone had to get the remaining ten."
"…Hmm. Okay I'm going to go scream into the void for a bit-"
"GET OFF THE STAGE!" Emily roared.
…..
"That was a good day!" Arthur declared, with no hint of irony. "But we have to uphold the appearance of professionalism! So, go ahead!"
"Gordon."
"Emily."
"Henry."
"James."
"Toby."
"Percy."
"Edward."
"Thomas The Tank Engine!"
"...That all I'm getting huh? Very well! It appears we need a name for this group! I shall dub it...Disillusion and Affray, as Led By Arthur!"
"I hate this day." Thomas growled.