The show was fast approaching, and Gordon's streamlined shell was almost completely applied. Victor had left to collect some parts, which left Kevin in charge of finishing the project. Gordon was becoming more impatient than ever.
"There's only one more day before the show, Kevin." He snapped. "One day, and you still aren't done! If I'm not finished by today, I won't be able to go!" Kevin had been racing around trying to attend to everything and briefly stopped by Gordon.
"I'm sorry, Gordon, but you heard what Victor said! Besides, we're almost done! We just need to-"
"Whatever you have to do now can't be that important." Gordon cut in grumpily. "Otherwise, it would've been done earlier." Kevin looked conflicted.
"Oh, well, I suppose you're right. Alright, everyone!" He called to the workmen. "Let's get Gordon on the racetrack right away!" The workmen started working faster, and Kevin hurried away, absentmindedly rolling past a small, golden object. Kevin and the workmen finished the shell as quickly as they could. At last, Kevin rolled in front of Gordon to look him over and beamed.
"That looks about right! All done, Gordon!" Kevin picked up a mirror with his hook and raised it in front of Gordon's face. "Well? What do you think?" Gordon looked in the mirror and gasped; he was no longer his original shape. He was now slick, shining and best of all, streamlined. Gordon grinned broadly.
"It's perfect." Kevin breathed a sigh of relief.
"We did it!" He exclaimed. "Victor's going to be so proud! Just like you are! Aren't you, Gordon?" Gordon didn't reply. "Gordon?" Gordon was imagining himself speeding down the line again, faster than ever. He drew up to Flying Scotsman on the other line, who had a confident smirk until Gordon flew past him.
"W-what?" Scotsman spluttered. Gordon smirked and raced over the finish line with ease. He came to a halt, taking in the crowds erupting into cheers for him.
"Shooting Star! Shooting Star! Shooting Star!" Gordon opened his eyes and chuckled.
"Make way for the 'Shooting Star', Scott…"
Henry and Vinnie were waiting at the top of the hill nearby Ulfstead Castle, with huge loads of steel girders stacked on trucks behind them. Stephen looked between the two engines with narrowed eyes before speaking.
"Alright, you two, listen up! I've been training your strength in starting off with a heavy load, but now, as the show gets closer, I want to train your ability to stop!" Vinnie snorted and smirked at Henry, but he seemed more nervous than usual.
"Dis'll be easy!" He chuckled under his breath, but he was beginning to sweat. Stephen whistled loudly to regain his attention, and the Canadian engine's eyes snapped back quickly. Vinnie very quickly realized how much he was buying into the old engine's delusion, and then rolled his eyes. Stephen continued.
"As a part of this challenge, I shall blast my whistle twice! The first time, you shall began to head down the hill with your trucks, and allow yourself to build up speed! The second time, after you have gathered enough momentum, you shall attempt to gently break to a stop! There has been a flag placed on the side of the line, and your goal is to stop either before or right on that point! No farther!" Vinnie scoffed again.
"Dis is a strength competition, not a stoppin' competition, old man! What's the point of-"
"The point, Vinnie, is that if you don't manage to stop in time, you could end up barrelling straight into stands of people! That wouldn't be very good, would it?" Stephen fired back, sharp as a whip, staring Vinnie down. The Canadian engine grimaced and subsided before rolling his eyes. Henry grinned determinedly.
"I'm ready, Stephen! Let's do this!" Stephen grinned.
"That's what I like to hear! On your marks…" Henry grinned at Vinnie, who, to his surprise, appeared to be a little bit scared.
"Is something wrong, Vinnie?"
"...Get set…" Vinnie's face quickly snapped into a snarl.
"What's wrong is you ain't eatin' my dust yet, Herring!" Henry glared, but before he could retort, Stephen's whistle blasted.
"GO!" The two engines started off, very evenly, and began coasting down the hill with the heavy trucks behind them. As they picked up speed, Vinnie began to take deep breaths to calm his nerves.
"Ah, jeez…" He muttered under his breath. Henry retained his focused grin, and soon enough they heard Stephen's whistle from the top of the hill.
"Alright, boys! Start braking!" Henry and Vinnie began to apply their brakes. However, one of them was slowing down much faster than the other…
"Vinnie, what are you doing? Slow down!" Henry called, as he came to a stop just behind the flag. Vinnie, however, kept on sliding down the hill, desperately trying to brake.
"Come on, come on!" He grimaced, but he wasn't slowing down fast enough. Suddenly, another whistle sounded out: it was Connor, making his way up the hill with both his and Caitlin's coaches.
"Great...Caitlin gets to gallivant off to the Great Railway Show while I'm stuck pulling her passengers as well as my own…" He muttered. However, he saw Vinnie sliding towards him and gasped.
"Get out of the way!" Connor cried, and Vinnie desperately began to brake harder. Finally, Vinnie, eyes shut tight, barely managed to stop just short of Connor's skirt. He let out a sigh of relief, but he heard two whistles and Henry and Stephen raced alongside.
"Vinnie, are you alright?" Henry asked.
"Why didn't you tell us you had weak brakes, lad? I would have whistled sooner!" Stephen practically shouted with concern.
"You nearly knocked me off the rails!" Connor snapped. Vinnie, at first terrified at almost ramming into Connor, snarled.
"Who said anythin' about weak brakes? I ain't got weak brakes! He was just gettin' in my way!"
"It's my line!" Connor snapped. Vinnie growled.
"Yeah...whatever! I'm outta here!" He whistled, and quickly switched tracks, racing away from the hill as fast as he could. Henry and Stephen shared a glance.
"Well, Henry, I suppose this concludes our training." Stephen mused. Henry watched Vinnie leave with concern.
"Yes, I suppose it does…"
Vinnie grumbled all the way back to the yards, having left his truck on a siding.
"Stupid Herring, stupid brakes, stupid old man, stupid…" Suddenly, he was a sight that made him grin wickedly.
"Heh. Shrimp." Sure enough, waiting in front of the coal hopper was Philip. The boxcab had his eyes shut, and a wide grin spread across his face.
"To conclude our celebration, we shall be crowning the winner of the Great Race...Philip of Sodor!" Philip laughed to himself happily. However, he suddenly heard a voice that snapped him out of his fantasy immediately.
"Hiya, squirt." The boxcab's eyes shot open to see Vinnie maliciously grinning at him.
"H-h-hello, s-s-sir." He squeaked. Vinnie's smile remained plastered on his face.
"Whatcha been up to, kiddo?" Philip stammered.
"W-w-w-w-well, I-"
"Sounds to me like you were thinkin' about goin' to da show again, weren'tcha?" Philip jumped as Vinnie began to move slowly towards him.
"I wasn't! I swear, I wasn't!" He rapidly tried to deny it, but Vinnie's evil grin remained.
"Listen up, shrimp. No one like you is ever gonna go to da show, no matter how hard ya wanna. Why? 'Cause you're useless. You'll still be a little box no matter how many decorations they slap on ya, so you can't win Best in Show. From da state of dis yard, you ain't winning any shunting competition any time soon, I'll tell ya that much. You're too small to be as strong as me…"
"I wouldn't compete against you! Henry already is!" Philip replied quickly. Vinnie's smile dropped.
"DID I ASK YA ABOUT HERRING, SHRIMP?" He bellowed. Philip squeaked in fear and reversed again as Vinnie drew closer.
"I'msorryIwon'tdoitagainIwon'tdoitagainI-"
"And why do ya think you're gonna be in the Great Race? You're a teeny tiny shrimpy wimpy little pile of scrap, why would they ever want you?" Philip perked up.
"I won a race with G-"
"Face it, twerp..." Philip cowered in fear as Vinnie drew buffer to buffer with him. The Canadian engine grinned wickedly as he whispered his next words to the boxcab.
"You're never going to the Great Railway Show." He rammed into Philip, sending the little engine flying backwards under the coal hopper. Suddenly, coal released from the top of the hopper onto Philip, covering the little boxcab in coal dust. He coughed furiously as Vinnie cackled.
"See you round, shrimp!" The Canadian engine reversed away, leaving a shattered Philip to sit in the coal dust. A single tear from Philip's eye created a clean stream down his cheeks.
It took until night had fallen to dig Philip out, and he sulked away to his shed, still miserable over Vinnie's words. The boxcab reversed into the sheds slowly, before his driver stepped down and pat his engine's buffer sympathetically.
"Cheer up, Philip, the Great Railway Show is tomorrow! We can go to the Steamworks to see everyone off! How does that sound?" He suggested. Philip remained distracted.
"Vinnie's right...I'm never going to the Great Railway Show…" He muttered. His driver tried to think of something more to say, but he couldn't, so he simply turned on his heels and returned to the sheds.
"Good night, Philip." He called. Philip simply sat in his sheds, before beginning to cry until he fell asleep.
Chase: Not a lot to say about this chapter, but know that Vinnie's weak brakes are going to come into play later.
Don: What he said.
The show grows ever closer! See the engines finally head on their way, but not without a road bump and a change of plan or two in the eighth chapter, "Catastrophe!"