Thanks to all who reviewed! Now, let's get under way with the next episode!
Cue the theme!
...
All right, Mr Starr?
Yep?
I get that you have a lot of fans, but could you please tell them to stop trying to maul our security guards?
I'll get right on that. Next episode?
...
It was another day on the Island of Sodor. Edward was pulling the Breakdown Train back into a proper position (It had been needed to rescue Henry the previous day thanks to a accident in the Sidings which involved two express coaches and a lot of booze) and Thomas was briefly moving some of the trucks around as a brief favor to Sir Topham Hatt before he headed back off to the branch line and reveled in how quiet it was.
And then there was James.
James had not seen the Fat Controller for several days. He was left alone for being naughty, and also because no one really wanted to sit in the shed with him. Seriously, the guy was a bit of a moaning idiot. He wasn't even allowed out to push coaches or trucks in the yard. He wasn't sure if that was a advantage or a disadvantage yet, but he was leaning towards the former.
"Oh dear!" He thought aloud and wailed. "I SHALL HAVE TO STAY IN THE SHED FOR ALWAYS!"
"Preach, mate." Henry grunted as Marklin shunted him forward. The German tank glared at James, and if James had looked instead of whining like the little prat he was, he would have seen genuine anger in the tank engine's eyes.
"AND NO ONE!" James continued in much the same vein as before. "WILL EVER SEE MY BEAUTIFUL RED COAT AGAIN! NO ONE! EVER!"
James was going for the BAFTA award.
"All because I went so fast-" sniffed the sobbing silly sod. "-that I made a hole in one of my coaches, which had to be repaired by, of all things, a passenger's bootlace!"
"We know James." said his driver, bored out of his mind. "We were there."
At last, the Fat Controller arrived, more out of a desperate need to shut James up and go back to his crossword puzzle than anything else. "Uh, I see you are sorry James!" he said, trying to sound stern. "I hope now that you will kindly shut the he-be a better engine!" he switched words quickly. "You have given me a lot of trouble! People are laughing at my railway and I don't like that at all!" That, at least, was true.
"I'm very sorry sir!" said James, even trying to widen his eyes like a cat to appeal to Hatt. It instead creeped him the hell out. "i will try hard to behave."
"THANK GOD!"
"What was that sir?"
"I said that's a good engine! I want you to pull some trucks for me."
James grinned. Partly because he got to show off his fabulous coat again, and partly because he felt as though he had bested the Fat Controller in a battle of wits. He puffed away.
Topham let out a sigh of relief and headed off to get his crossword and find Edward to take him on his train.
...
Thomas pushed a series of trucks into the station and smirked at James. "Well, that's two favors you owe me."
"Thank you Thomas." said James, voice drenched in sarcasm.
"Anyway, here are your trucks. Have you got some bootlaces ready?" And he ran off laughing at his own immature joke.
James stared after him for a long time, and considered whether or not owing someone a favor would be nullified if said someone was found bunker up in a mine somewhere with a large spike through their nose.
"OH! OH! OH!" shouted the trucks as James smacked down onto them. "We wanted a proper engine, not Manchester United's party van!"
James choked back a sarcastic response to this and started as soon as the guard blew his whistle. "Come along, come along." He puffed, clearly what he had learnt about coaches did not apply to trucks.
"We don't want to, we don't want to!" the trucks groaned, like the average six year old when confronted with broccoli. But James didn't care and pulled the screeching trucks out of the station as a jazz band started playing a familiar song.
The trucks tried hard to make him give up, but James ignored them. He was never gonna give them up, never going to let them down, never going run around and desert them. He was never gonna make you cry, never gonna say goodbye, never gonna tell a lie and hurt them.
Ahem. Sorry, me cassette mix got in the script.
Sometimes their brakes would slip on, and sometimes their axels would run hot (Women, I hear that's a constant problem with men) and each time the trouble had to be put right ("How will hitting it with a hammer fix it?" "It just will.") and each time James would start back up again, determined not to let them beat him. Especially not at his own games, the smug off.
"Give up, give up You can't pull us, you can't you can't!" called the trucks, singing their latest hit single.
"I can and I will, I can and I will!" James puffed back. He then added a little emphasis later with a very loud "SUCK ON THAT GORDON!" Slowly and surely, he pulled them along the line.
At last they saw Gordon's Hill. "Look out for trouble James." warned his driver. "We'll go fast and get them up the hill before they realize it!"
"WE HEARD THAT!" echoed the trucks.
"Don't let them stop you!" shouted the fireman, who had read William Wallace the previous night and was still in Braveheart mode, even though that movie had yet to come out.
So James went faster and faster, and soon they were halfway up. James had never read the Grand Old Duke of York, so he had no idea that this was generally when things went pearshaped.
"I'm doing it! I'm doing it! Will the top never come?!"
Then with a sudden jerk, it all became easier.
No, those are not innuendos. Though they should be. James let out a whoop at the sudden lightening of the pull and he puffed up the hill to the top. "I've done it! I've done it!" He crowed. "Hooray! It's easy now."
Then the party pooper driver sighed and shut off steam. "They've done it again. We've left out tail behind."
"We don't have tails." said the Fireman, who was still a little clueless.
The last trucks were running backwards down the hill, and despite the fact that they had been running quickly, they were now slowing down as the guard slammed on the brakes. The coupling had snapped, again showing that Sodor's workmen needed a workshop with regards to coupling things up. But the guard had applied the brake and they came to a stop. He got out to warn approaching engines.
"Oh what is this?" Edward said as he puffed up, annoyed.
"So that's why it was easy." grumbled James. "Of course there can't be any real reason why I had a easy day today. Silly fools, there might have been a accident!" He mentally noted that said accident would have been on his paintwork, as saying out loud would get him Looks with a capital L.
"Shall I help you James?" called Edward in a slightly mocking way.
"No. THANK YOU." said James through gritted teeth. "I'll pull them myself." He started up again and began to puff. Edward watched on in a impressed silence as James began to move.
"Don't let them beat you! You're doing well!" He called, this time genuine, as once more James struggled up the hill.
He pulled ahead, teeth set and eyes fixated on the top. "I can do it! I can do it!" At this point even the trucks were fascinated to see James struggle on up. He pulled and puffed as hard as he could...
...and cleared the top. "I've done it! I've done it!" He cried again. He let out a triumphant whistle that made several engines wince to hear.
...
They reached their station safely...relatively, and James was resting in the yard when Edward pulled up. "Peep peep!" he whistled. "We may just make a shunter out of you yet."
"Don't count on it." muttered James. Then he saw the Fat Controller.
"OH NO! WHAT WILL HE SAY?!" He hammed up.
But the Fat Controller was smiling. This was a rare thing and was likened to a blue moon by many people on the Island. "I was in Edward's train-"
"But he's pulling trucks!"
"There was a mishap, Thomas isn't shunting in that yard unless we have a crisis again. I saw everything. You've made the most troublesome trucks on the line behave."
"TRAITOR!" hissed several other trucks to the ashamed ones in the corner.
Edward whistled and moved off to go and find somewhere to rest. Sir Topham continued.
"After that, you deserve to keep your red paint."
"HELL YEAH I DO." said James.
"Don't ruin it."
"Sorry sir."