Dear Miss Allcroft.
You will be happy to hear that I greeted your proposal to film another series of your 'documentary' of how our railway operates with something approaching euphoria. True, several of my engines came up to me and angrily pointed out that calling the series 'Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends' was incredibly insulting to them, considering that the footage chosen showed Thomas as being a 'Class A Idiot' to quote Henry. I pointed out, however, that there had to be a snappy title and Thomas was far better known compared to some of them. This probably gave Gordon, Henry and James a bit of a chip on their lack of shoulders, but you know what they say about omelettes and eggs.
Things have changed significantly since the last time you were on our Island. Your documentary series has led to a significant upgrade in tourism, which is great! Problem is that the seven engines, fine for the traffic in 1984, are now struggling more and more. Not the least because we've finally agreed to the expansion of all lines across the Island. The Docks are going to become a major source of income for many workmen, and we have added a extensive re-calibration of the yard. Not to mention the work that will be going on in the final weeks of 86 on the viaduct. Oddly enough, we've been able to update the truck as well. The new generation has mostly supplanted the older one, helped perhaps by the fact that their faces can actually move and emote compared to the original.
And of those seven engines, I must give you further updates on their activities in the year in which we have had to deal with the consequences of the decision.
Edward is currently in charge of his own branch line, after many a argument with me, I finally caved in and gave my most faithful engine what he desired. Quite aside from that, he's been taking quite a bit of stick from the bigger engines once more. He's personally told me that he's taking it in good humor because he knows that they will probably be eating their words at some point. He's also briefly taken up the role as official Master of the Yards until such a time as we can find a responsible engine that can take up his workload.
Percy has, for the most part, done the incredibly smart thing and stayed off the radar. As the official station pilot for the most part, he tends to have taken up his role as bartender at the Sidings and run with it. Literally. He stole the entire bar one night in a drunken rage over a comment that James made, and refused to give it back until I reluctantly had to get James to apologize. Since then, he's wisely kept his mouth shut for the most part, though I get the feeling that he's beginning to get rather broody with being trapped in the station and being forced to help the big prats, and again, it may have something to do with the transfer of Mr Carlin to act as Percy's driver. I sense we may have another Thomas on our hands, though at the very least, Percy does seem to have learned from some of that...engine and his mistakes.
Onto the big prats themselves, Henry has actually gone through the most improvements of all three of them. Which isn't much, but always look on the bright side, as Eric Idle said. He's gone greener than usual, and has already started a committee that has railed (No pun intended) against my attempt to expand the Island for fear of destroying some scared woodland. Unfortunately, I've had to humor the little contemptible engine, and have made sure that we have not damaged anything overly important. Yet. Apart from that, he still groans and moans a lot, but I get the feeling he's doing it more to stay in with the cool crowd.
Speaking of which, James. Remarkably, despite the fact that literally everything that has happened to him should have taken his ego down a few pegs, I am now convinced that James's ego will continue to grow until it consumes the entire planet. Nothing has slowed him down, not the fact that his paintwork was temporarily rendered into that of a bumblebee (And let's hope that never happens again because I cannot take the eyesore), not the crash into the James Fanclub that left no one injured aside from his pride because no one turned up, and not even that lamentable foray into the pop world. I still shudder every time we had to hear 'Ode to Me, The Red Wonder' and that hideous synthesizer on the radio.
Then there's Gordon. Oh Gordon. In some ways, he has changed a bit for the better overall. He and Thomas rarely spat as much as they did before you came here, and I believe that alliance of theirs is still holding strong despite what they would claim. He also appears to have gained a bit more respect for the coaches, though that may be because James, in a fit of rage, personally sold his Christmas present of the special coaches to a private contractor for six years of work. Gordon nearly mauled the little red idiot to death, and quite frankly, I would have let him. From what I hear, the coaches are having fun. And since then, he's been almost intolerably superior in his belief that he is the only sane one here.
Toby, bless him, has adapted wonderfully. He and Edward tend to swap stories of what weird thing has happened on that day, and generally, considering that he has to balance the egos of the three big engines with Percy's increasing growing pains, I think the fact that he hasn't snapped and killed one of them is remarkable. True, there was that regrettable incident where he personally threatened to shove Henry in the scrapyard himself if he didn't stop playing his Beatles CD, but then so did most of the other engines. He and Henrietta are still going great in their relationship, although I'm beginning to wonder if Henrietta is even alive considering how she doesn't have even the minor face that the other coaches have. So possibly insane to boot.
And of course...Thomas. Oh. Oh Thomas. To begin with, his ego has recovered somewhat, and while his two coaches are still nagging him, frankly I'm starting to think that he would require a surgery to remove most of his excessive smugness and self-belief. So far, he has succeeded in not antagonizing the bloody bus or the terrible tractor too much, and has mostly remained cigarette free. Mostly. There have been one or two slip ups. However, since that abandoned mine he once crashed in mysterious burned down in mysterious circumstances, he seems to have gone clean, with only a token whiteness whenever I mention that accident. He is still Thomas the Tank Engine, at the end of the day.
So yes. This should be fun.
Also, one last note. You will probably hear a lot of Take On Me being played. My engines are still going through the stage of wanting to listen to Ah-Ha, and I can't stop them.
Sincerely.
Sir Topham Hatt, 1986.
...
Mr Starr! A pleasure to see you again.
Aye, what did I tell you, Steve! Big hit! Can't wait.
Then let's get going!
...
It was a beautiful morning on the Island of Sodor. As a little blue tank engine pulling two coaches crossed one of the newer bridges, he marveled at the scenery. Almost like Sodor had gotten a bigger budget. Thomas the Tank Engine's blue paint sparkled in the sunshine, as he puffed happily along his branchline with Annie and Clarabel.
And unsurprisngly, he was feeling very proud with himself. He rushed through the valley, where several woodland creatures stared at the rarely spotted Sudrian Tank, and then hurried on towards Elsbridge.
...
"You know Toby." reflected Percy. "I've been thinking. I need a change."
"You want house training?"
Percy gave Toby a look. "Toby, I swear to- No! I mean look! We've been here for a year or so now and we're just doing the same menial jobs over and over again. Maybe if I'm lucky I'll get to pull the coaches for a bit, but I want to be where the action is!"
"Well, just don't go the Thomas route." Toby smirked. "Though if you did get James to crash-"
"TOBY!" Percy laughed with mock horror. "I swear, sometimes you are worse than the others. Hold up...here he comes."
Thomas wheeshed around the corner with a certain amount of flair.
"Hello Thomas." droned Percy. "You look splendid." Percy was only saying what Toby had advised him to, in a sort of groundhog day tradition. But Thomas puffed up and practically expanded outwards.
"YES! Indeed!" boasted Thomas. "Blue is the only proper color for a engine!"
"Explains why the Flying Scotsman was blue." Toby said in such a normal voice that it quite quickly went over Thomas's head. "Oh I don't know." mused the tram. "I like my brown paint."
"I've always been green-"
"Hippie!" snorted James as he passed through.
"-I wouldn't want to be any other color either."
"Well...WELL ANYWAY-" huffed Thomas, angered that his opinion had been challenged. "-blue is the only color for a REAL engine! Everyone knows that!" And with a angry 'so there!' whistle, he puffed off.
Percy said no more. He just grinned at Toby.
...
Later, at the yard just by Tidmouth Station, Thomas was resting on a siding when Percy arrived pulling a long train of trucks. Thomas looked at the coal hopper he was located by. For a moment, he entertained the thought of interrupting his sun tan and leaving this potentially dangerous area.
The large hopper was filling Percy's trucks up with coal. Thomas abandoned this plan, as he was just getting the best spot right on his back. Thomas was, shock of all shocks, still being cheeky. He never learns, does he?
"Careful!" he warned. "Watch out with those silly trucks."
"SILLY ARE WE?!" shouted the newly re-faced Trucks, no more the painted demons that they once were. No these were brand new demons! "Go on! Go on!" they muttered rebelliously.
"And by the way." went on Thomas, completely death to everything that wasn't his own voice. "-those buffers don't look safe to-" He glanced back as Percy smacked into the buffers, then at the space where the truck should be, then at the coal hopper. "-me?"
The last load poured down.
"HELP! I'M CHOKING!" cried Thomas. Though to be accurate, it sounded more like "MMLP! 'M'M MMOKING!" due to all the coal in his mouth. "GET ME OUT!" or rather "MMT ME MMT!"
Percy was worried, but he couldn't help laughing, though out of nerves or genuine mirth he would never admit. As the workman leaned on the lever again and again in a attempt to stop the flow of coal (Ironically adding more and more) Thomas's smart blue paint was covered in coal dust from smokebox to bunker.
"Ha ha ha!" chuckled Percy. "You don't look really useful now, Thomas. You look really disgraceful!."
"I'M NOT DISGRACEFUL!" snapped Thomas, spitting out as much coal as he could. "YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE! GET ME OUT YOU FUSSY LITTLE GREEN ROLY POLY MONSTER!"
Percy was suddenly very afraid.
...
"Hey, I thought most of you guys were recalled!"
"We are." moaned one of the last painted face trucks as he was pulled away by a tired Edward. Thomas, sitting in the work shed next to Tidmouth, fumed on his own once more, while Annie and Clarabel made sympathetic noises.
It had taken so long to clean Thomas, and to remove the coal from each part of his body, that he wasn't in time for his next train. Toby had to take Annie and Clarabel. The tram said nothing to Thomas, for fear that the tank engine may flip out and kill him painfully.
"Poor Thomas." whispered Annie to Clarabel. They were both most upset. Or at least they pretended they were until far away from Thomas, where they began to laugh gleefully.
Thomas frowned. And then the penny dropped. "HANG ON A MINUTE!" He roared. "WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT THE FLYING SCOTSMAN!?"
Along the way, they passed a baffled Fat Controller and a signalman getting into a argument with the man responsible for the coal accident.
"HOW COULD YOU DUMP TWO TONS OF COAL?!" Hatt exploded. "IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE."
"It's jammed!" insisted the coal hopper man.
"It's new! How could we have a mistake this big!?"
"Maybe Marklin did something to it." muttered the signalman, sharing a joke about the mysterious circumstances behind Marklin's vanishing act.
Hatt looked up. "AND WHY IS THERE A BOOM MIC OVER MY HEAD?!"
"You wanted us here." protested the cameraman.
"Oh...carry on."
...
In the sheds that night, Thomas was incredibly cross. Toby had spent the better part of the day snickering along with the coaches, and thought it a great joke. Percy, unfortunately, was cross with Thomas for thinking he had done it on purpose.
"FANCY!" He snarled aloud in a rare moment of silence. "A REALLY USEFUL ENGINE like THOMAS, becoming such a DISGRACE to the Fat Controller's railway." Emphasis not added.
"Toby!" snarled Thomas. "Tell Percy that as far as I am concerned, HE IS DEAD TO ME."
"And tell Thomas that I won't speak to him for the rest of the night."
"Tell Percy that because he is dead to me, IT WON'T MATTER."
"Tell Thomas that he's a POO HEAD!"
"Tell Percy that-"
"ENOUGH! ENOUGHENOUGHENOUGHENOUGH!" Toby screamed. He raced out of the sheds and headed off towards the empty berth at Tidmouth.
The two other engines sat in silence.
...
The next morning, Thomas was more cheerful. Maybe it was because Percy was now suffering. He had brought his trucks from the junction, his heavy trucks, and Percy was tired. Thomas was sure this had nothing to do with them arguing all night.
As Percy backed up, Thomas's massive coal eating grin was like a red flag to a paralyzed bull. It was probably angry, but was in no condition to do anything.
"Have a drink." said Carlin.
"Oh ta. Where's the booze?"
"I wish. Then you'll feel better!"
The water column stood at the end of the siding with some more unsafe buffers. Percy puffed forwards, forgetting to uncouple his own trucks. Thomas sat silently and watched.
"Hang on! I can't stop!" and Percy couldn't. The buffers couldn't stop him either! "OH ECK!" He shouted. "HELP!"
One splintering later, the buffers were broken and Percy was wheel deep in the two tons of coal that had been shifted the previous night. It was time for Thomas to leave. He had seen everything.
"Now Percy has learned his lesson too!" he chuckled, unaware that really Percy hadn't needed to learn one.
Hatt glanced out the window. "OH HELL!" He swore. "GET ME THE BUFFER MAKER!"
...
That night, the two engines made up their quarrel.
"You know, I actually didn't cause that accident on purpose Thomas." said Percy. "You know that, right?"
"Of course!" said Thomas magnanimously, now that he was vindicated. "And I'm sorry I was cheeky too. Your green paint looks splendid again too!" He smirked. "In future, we better be careful of coal."
"Too late!" crowed Toby outside the shed, and pulled off. There was a pause, and then the roof opened up dumping coal on both engines.
"TOBYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!"
"Let it go Thomas."