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And cue the theme!
...
Mr Star...just why?
Well, this episode has tar in it! Right?
Yeeeees?
And so you want me to get in character for it, don't you?
Covering yourself in tar gets you in character?
Uh huh!
And how does it feel?
Hurts.
...
Toby and Henrietta were enjoying their new life on the Island of Sodor. Not the least because now Toby could actually interact with engines. The results had been...mixed. While Edward and Percy had taken to him, Gordon and Henry believed him to be some sort of devil-witch like person. They mostly tolerated him, but Gordon in particular was wondering whether or not they could prepare to burn him.
They did, however, look old fashioned and needed new paint. James was very rude to them whenever he saw them. "UGH! WHAT DIRTY OBJECTS!" and "WOW, YOU LOOK UGLY!" and "GET A JOB, HIPPIE!"
James was quite the wordsmith, you understand.
At last, Toby lose patience. "James." He asked one day at Elsbridge. "Why are you red?"
"Why SHOULDN'T I be red? I am a splendid engine!" declared James, flaunting it. "I'm ready for anything. like a boy scout! You'll never see MY paint dirty! Unlike Henry!"
"Oh!" said Toby innocently. "Ah, of course, it explains it now."
"Explains what?"
"Oh, nothing. Just I realized that that's probably why you needed bootlaces. To be ready, of course!" He grinned at James.
James went redder than ever (And that was no mean feat) and snorted off. It was such a insult to be reminded of the time he had needed a bootlace, to mend a hole in one of his coaches. "WELL...YOU STINK!" he called back, and Toby cheerfully trilled his bell.
...
Arriving at Knapford minutes later, at the end of the line, James left his coaches and got ready to pull some trucks. It was a slow goods, emphasis on slow, stopping at every station to pick up and set down more trucks. James hated slow goods trains. He hated all trains that weren't coaches, but slow goods trains especially.
He backed down on one of the trucks hard, slamming it's face into his tender. "DIRTY TRUCKS FOR DIRTY SIDINGS!" He sneered.
"We could ave you for race relations!" squeaked one truck.
"Ah shaddup!"
...
Arriving back at Elsbridge to pick up some trucks that Toby had left, James paused for a minute, and collected his thoughts to provided a eloquent summary of his feelings.
"YEUCK!"
That summed it up.
He whistled sharply, and starting with only a few, he picked up more and more trucks at each station until he had a long train. In most cases, he would have bragged about how big it was, but he was feeling more and more angry with every puff.
As he passed the field where he had crashed on his first 'official' day, James growled and angrily considered replacing Henrietta with a cow. He could see it as being such a good replacement that Toby wouldn't notice.
At first the trucks behaved well, but James's foul mood and constant bumping annoyed them so much, that they became determined to pay James out.
Presently, they came to Gordon's Hill. Soon they were nearly to the top. Heavy goods trains halt here to pin down their brakes. James had had accidents with trucks before and should have remembered this. He also should have remembered that trucks were never this quiet unless they were up to something.
"Wait James WAIT!" snapped the driver, but James didn't wait. He was running through the various insults in his mind for Toby when they next met. He rounded the bend, and the driver prepared to put the brakes on to give James a lecture.
But the trucks found their chance! "HURRAH! HURRAH!" They laughed, and banging their buffers, they pushed him down the hill.
"OH DEAR GOD DEJA VUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!" wailed James as he raced straight down the hill,
"On on on!" cackled the trucks.
"I'VE GOT TO STOP! I'VE GOT TO STOP!" moaned James. "OR THEY'LL NEVER LET ME LIVE THIS DOWN!"
He raced towards Maron. A very surprised porter stopped mid bend and stared as James thundered through the station. For disaster lay ahead.
James let out a feeble whistle, and closed his eyes as best he could.
There was a horrific noise. James bounced up into the air as he smashed into something. Something sticky (No, not like that) and black splashed all over James. He had run into two tar wagons...well technically three, but that one was alive. He was black from smokebox to cab.
Easy jokes aside, he appeared to be more dirty than hurt, but the tar wagons and some trucks were mauled to pieces.
Toby and Percy were sent to help, and came as quickly as they could.
"Hey Percy." Toby asked. "Whatever is that dirty little object over there?"
"Why, that's James! Thought you'd been introduced to the scumball of the Island!"
"See, I don't know. It's James's shape, but James is a splendid engine. You'd never see him dirty. He's ready for anything!"
"Ah, does that include being a complete arse?"
"Probably, probably so old chum. I mean, at totally arsery, he's the best!"
James stared off into space and pretended he hadn't heard. Eventually, after two or three more minutes of mocking, Toby and Percy cleared away the unhurt trucks (Several of whom would need counselling.) and then helped James home.
...
Arriving at Tidmouth, James was well aware that he looked like a right prat. The Fat Controller was waiting.
"Well done Percy and Toby!" He turned to James. "You? Letting your trucks out of control? I AM surprised!"
"Clever, sir." growled James through a plugged up nose.
Hatt sniffed the air. "You're not fit to be seen or smelt! You must be cleaned at once!" He turned to Toby. "Toby, you can have a new coat of paint."
"Could, uh, could Henrietta have one too sir?"
"Certainly."
"WHAT?!" shrieked James.
"Oh thank you sir! She will be pleased!" Toby ran off to tell her the news, and as Percy backed away to get the breakdown train, James was left sitting there, baffled.
"Wow. One of those days." he muttered, as the tar hardened on his paint.