Thanks to all who reviewed! Now, let's get under way with the next episode!
Cue the theme!
...
All right then, we've finished with Thomas for a while. The fans are clamoring for this new James character. If you could maybe do a scouse accent for him?
Listen mate, I can only do Scottish. And even that's debatable.
Okay, we'll ask the next one.
The what?
Starting in three! Two! One!
...
A jazzy track greeted the Island of Sodor on one particular morning, as a red engine steamed on by, he began humming along to it. "I could get used to this."
James was enjoying his life on the Island of Sodor...relatively. But he still had a lot to learn. Like numbers after five. And other types of paint. And that he was not, in fact, the thing that the Earth and the Sun revolved around.
Edward had tried telling him these things, but his new coat of paint and the head injury had turned him into a bit of a insufferable prat, so James ignored him.
"You're a special mixed traffic engine." said the Fat Controller.
"OH SO I'M NOT SPECIAL AM I?!" said a annoyed Edward, who promptly backed off in a huff.
"Oh, don't do this to me Edward!" Sir Topham Hatt sighed, made a mental note to apologize to Edward and continued his spiel to James. He had wanted to make sure that James knew his limitations. Because none of the other engines seemed to. "You can pull coaches or trucks quite easily, but you must learn by your mistakes."
"What mistakes?!" James suddenly realized what he meant. He could still remember that terrible accident on the first day he was acknowledged.
...
At last, Edward was coaxed back, his ego bandaged up. They decided to test James out on a special coach run, with Edward working with James to show him the basics of how to handle coaches with actual people in them instead of just dummies.
"Be careful with the coaches James." said Edward, aware that he was more likely to be ignored but figuring that he had to try. "They don't like being bumped." Like a lot of things, he added silently.
Everyone came to admire James. This, you may be surprised to learn, went to his smokebox. "I'm a really splendid engine!" He said. "And handsome too!" He suddenly let off steam.
"Aye, Bill! Lobster's done!" said his fireman.
A shower of water fell on the Fat Controller's top hat.
"NOT ANOTHER ONE!" he wailed.
"Uh oh." James looked dead ahead and began praying.
Just then the guard blew his whistle and James let out several thank you to the various gods of each religion. James thought they had better leave. He started forward and smacked into Edward, who was pulling in front of him.
"Ow!" shouted the blue engine.
"Go on! Go on!" James puffed nervously.
"Don't push, don't push!" snapped back Edward. The coaches were grumbling too "Don't go so fast! Don't go so fast!"
James, of course, ignored them.
...
When at last the arrived at Dryaw station, two coaches were beyond the platform. James stared at Edward like a alien had taken up residence when the Blue Engine pointed that out, and Edward angrily buffed backwards, pushing back towards the station. They had to go back to let the passengers out. But no one seemed to know about the Fat Controller's hat, so James felt happier.
Edward forcibly started forward once more, this time with a light simmering bit of rage beneath his boiler.
...
Presently they came to the station where Thomas was waiting with his two coaches. He was having a argument.
"No, look Annie, I know the cigarette thing's a bit suspect but it's MY LIFE!"
"But your lungs are terrible!"
"I'll let you in on a little secret Annie. WE'RE TRAINS. WE DON'T HAVE LUNGS." Thomas glanced over and did a double take. "Bloody hell, you two here already!"
"Yes." Edward said dryly. "Sorry to tell you this Thomas, but your two friends are needed for a special train tomorrow. Fire-Engine over here's taking them out."
"Hello James!" said Thomas, ignoring Edward like everyone else did. "Feeling better? That's right!"
"I'm glad someone has manners!" said James snootily, shooting a look at Edward.
"Oh, that's my guard whistle! I must go! I don't know what the Fat Controller would do without me to run this Branch Line!" And he puffed off importantly.
"Get Marklin to do it?" mumbled Edward under his breath.
"I HEARD THAT!"
...
Edward and James passed the field where James had had his accident. The fence was mended and the cows were back again. Eating the remains of some of the destroyed trucks.
Edward wondered if he could swap James with one of the cows. It would be a lot more enlightening.
After climbing up Gordon's Hill, both engines raced down to the bottom, James whistling aloud as he did so.
"Show off." muttered Edward under his voice. It had been a long day. He regretted it.
...
They ended their journey and rested before setting off for home. Edward was enjoying the peace and quiet, and at one point a shy kid asked if he could have a photograph taken with him. Smiling, Edward allowed it, before wishing the boy a good day.
Stephen Hatt ran over to his sister and bragged about getting a good shot with the older engine.
James, meanwhile, was worrying what the Fat Controller would say about his top hat.
So much so, that when Edward started forward, James jumped and banged into Edward's tender once more. Growling and gritting his teeth, Edward continued onward, determined to ask Charlie and Sidney to begin buffering out the dents later.
...
Next morning, the Fat Controller spoke severely to James.
"-AND THEN I HAD TO GO AND GET MY HAT WIPED AGAIN, BECAUSE GUESS WHAT, SOME IDIOT OVERSHOT DRYAW AND SENT IT FALLING INTO THE MUD!"
James stayed silent. Even he knew to let the Fat Controller ramble on was the best part.
"AND YOU'VE COST EDWARD A DAY'S WORK. IF YOU CAN'T CONTROL YOURSELF-" He drew himself up to his full height, which did not look impressive, in all honesty. "-I SHALL TAKE AWAY YOUR RED COAT AND HAVE YOU PAINTED BLUE!"
This was not the best threat, in all honesty, because then he would look far too similar to Edward for his liking. But James didn't like that at all.
So it probably wasn't the best idea to send the now steaming James off to take the train, to test him on how well he would handle the pressure of coaches on his own.
He was very rough with the grumbling coaches when he brought them to the platform. "Don't talk, COME ON!" He called to them. The coaches grumbled and began arguing that it was just like a engine to treat them so. James was now fully into his rant. "Gordon never has to fetch his own coaches, and he's only painted BLUE!"
"Thanks James." said Gordon, grinning. "Now I can pass on my mantle of Engine that Bad Stuff Happens To, to you!"
"SHUT UP GORDON."
...
To make James even more cross (Like that needed much) this time no one came near him. He had the vague feeling that Gordon and Henry had done that on purpose. "I'LL SHOW THEM ALL!" he shouted, sounding more and more like a comic book villain. "They think Gordon's the only one who can pull coaches!"
"With style!" called out Gordon.
"SHUT UP GORDON."
...
"Hurry hurry hurry!" puffed James, as he passed a train being pulled by Marklin, who darkly scowled at him.
"Some day." muttered the tank engine, as his mind began going into overdrive of ways to eliminate the other engines.
"You're going too fast! You're going to fast!" said the coaches. James laughed and tried to go faster, but this was too much even for the long suffering coaches themselves. "We're going to stop!" They said. "They're going to stop!"
"Ha! Just try it."
...
They stopped.
...
"What's the matter!?" James asked his driver.
"The brakes are hard on! Leak in the pipes most likely. You've banged the coaches enough-" several of the more immature coaches began sniggering. "-to make a leak in anything!"
"OH DON'T YOU START ON ME."
The two of them moved back to look at the problem, and the guard joined up.
"How shall we mend it?" said the guard, his head bandaged from where he had banged it on Gordon's Hill.
"We'll do it with newspaper and a leather bootlace!" said the driver, who had done a survival course with the scouts a while back.
"You can have a bit of my Playdriver." said the Guard, for whom this was like giving up part of his arm. "But not Page 3. Where the hell are we going to get a leather bootlace from!?"
"Ask the passengers."
"What, just like that?"
"How else?"
...
"You have a bootlace there I see sir." said the guard, to a smartly dressed man (Jeremiah Jobling, world renowned pop singer) "Please give it to me."
"HA!" called James.
"I won't!" said the man.
"Please."
"I WON'T."
"Right. Then the train stops here. WE CAN ALL BE MISERABLE TOGETHER." The guard had had a stressful few months.
Allcroft and Mitton looked at each other, and got out a crossword. The rest of the passengers stormed the cab, as both crew members climbed to the roof, and complained what a bad railway it was. Then they turned on Jobling and said how bad he was instead.
At last, he handed his bootlace over, for fear of being mauled.
The driver tied a pad of newspaper tightly round the hole in the brake pipe, and James was able to pull the train.
But he was a sadder and wiser (HA!) engine, and took care never to bump coaches again.
Until the next time.
Running through his mind were the words "Gordon is going to have a field day!".
...
Oh, and Jobling? He later went on to produce the number one hit single 'Me Bootlace Got Stolen By A Guard'.
Which just goes to show...
Something.