Much thanks to the many good readers and reviewers out there!
Gotta say, these next three are some of my favorites out there!
And now, the theme!
...
Okay, Miss Allcroft, I apologize...okay, you're going to tell me what happened? Ringo, start the next narration. Okay...lay it on me.
...
Duck is very proud of being Great Western. He talks endlessly about it. But he works hard too, and has the ability to make everything run like clockwork.
It was a splendid day when everything began to go wrong. Duck was thinking to himself as he waited for the turntable to reach the other side, and he was wondering what it was he had to do.
...
"Come along, come along!" called Duck as he pulled some express coaches along. They twittered and laughed, for they had never had such a friendly and gentleman like engine since Edward. Duck's mind was elsewhere, on business that was known only to himself for now.
As he dropped the coaches off at Knapford, he hurried into the yard to shunt some trucks. The trucks and coaches were behaving well, and even the passengers had stopped grumbling. This was a occasion so rare that in olden times, it would have been celebrated with a full blown banquet.
As he returned towards Knapford Yard, Duck smiled cheerfully. The other engines didn't like having to be bustle about, especially when Duck was around to guilt them into doing their work.
"There are two ways of doing things!" Duck told them as he did every few days or so. "The Great Western way, or the wrong way! I'm Great Western and-"
"Don't we bloody well know it?!" groaned the three big engines. Henry frowned.
"Gordon, where's my tender gone?"
Gordon glanced over. "Huh. Odd." He smiled. "Sorry, can't waste time! You heard what Duck said!" He puffed off, followed by a cackling James.
Henry was left alone until a fitter took pity on him.
...
That day was the last easy one that Duck would have for the next few weeks. The next day started rather well, as he, Gordon, James, Henry and Percy waited outside Tidmouth Sheds for the Fat Controller to arrive and make their announcement.
Now Duck probably meant well, but his slight pushy behavior, combined with the memory of that fateful encounter before Percy had left Tidmouth as a permanent resident, had soured the big engines towards the GW engine.
So they were very glad when a visitor came.
But this visitor carried himself very differently. In previous times, engines had usually made loud entrances, or perhaps had snuck down under the radar until someone finally noticed them. But he purred smoothly towards them. He backed down onto the turntable and waited as it turned.
And the other four engines were silent. For this was something they had only heard about.
A diesel.
As he pulled in besides Duck, he looked the Great Westerner over and smiled. It was a cold smile, one that looked like it was very easy to slip on. He glanced over the other four, and some level of recognition seemed to occur in his eyes.
As for they, a strange feeling of having known this engine, if only briefly, was in the back of their heads.
The Fat Controller introduced him. "Here is Diesel. I have agreed to give him a trial run. He needs to learn." Hatt turned on his heel and looked at Duck. "Please teach him Duck." He looked down at his watch. "Ah damn it, I've got that shareholders meeting to go to." He walked away, but not before shooting a glance back to Duck and Diesel. Both of them were looking at each other, almost like they were daring each other to break some sort of masquerade.
As the car drove off, Diesel's smile increased. "Good morning." He purred in a oily voice. "Pleased to meet you Duck." He put just enough emphasis on the last word to make it clear that he wanted to speak another word entirely. His eyes, though never seeming to quite lose sight of Duck's face, shifted somewhat. "Is that James!? And Henry?! And Gordon too!? And little Percy!?"
The four engines whistled, already feeling as though this would make a very fine engine indeed. Diesel smiled. "I am delighted and honored to meet such famous engines!"
Duck ground his teeth. "Yes, well, there shall be time enough for you to get to know them." He puffed ahead. "It's time to get to work."
"Ah, yes." And here if it was without any doubt that Diesel was smooth, he laid it to rest, as he practically purred. "The yard, of course. I shall see you later, engines." He followed after Duck at a leisurely pace."
The silly engines were flattered. "He has very nice manners." They murmured. "We are pleased and honored to have him in our yard."
...
Duck growled as he puffed on. They stayed silent for two minutes as they traversed the busy line, before Diesel spoke up.
"You are a interesting one, Montague. I am so interested in seeing this Island and the line...I do wish you to know, however, that your pointless distrust of me will come to nothing. I merely wish to work with you. Besides, I know why you came here."
"Well that's no secret." Duck said casually. "I came here to work."
"Not quite." Diesel's smile seemed a mockery of concern. "I know the real reason. I know much. I know about Shining Time."
For the first time, Duck felt a jolt of fear. He didn't show it though. "Come on!" he shouted for the benefit of Edward, Thomas and Toby, in the yards. Diesel purred after him.
They entered Knapford Yards, Diesel passing through the Sodor Shipping company building and finally speaking once more. "Your worthy fat-"
"Sir Topham Hatt TO YOU!" ordered Duck sharply. Diesel was clearly a good actor, for he looked legitimately hurt.
"Your worth Sir Topham Hatt thinks I need to learn. He is mistaken."
"Ah, you and he have that in common at least."
Diesel seemed practically to swell. "We Diesels do not need to learn. We KNOW everything. We come to a yard, and we...improve it."
"By replacing all the Steam Engines with Diesels, yes, I've seen the way that your kind works." Duck muttered. He was not prejudiced against diesels as a rule, but those who delighted in ridding the world of the steam engines were practically his enemy.
"We are revolutionary!" Diesel finished off.
This touched a nerve. "Oh!" said Duck. "Well then, if you're revothingummy, then perhaps you should get my trucks ready while I go and get Gordon's coaches ready." He was about to puff off in a huff when he paused. "Oh, one other thing." Duck's scowl deepened. "It wouldn't matter if you told them anyway."
Diesel smiled. "We shall see." And delighted to show off, he purred away to a section of line that was on the outskirts of Knapford and near Brendam.
...
When Duck returned, having grown sick of the conversation at Knapford for all they mentioned was Diesel, he watched intently as Diesel tried to shunt the trucks on a siding. These trucks were old, empty, past it and hadn't been touched for a long time.
So naturally, Diesel found them hard to move. Duck turned to some of the other trucks, who grinned back at him. For once, engine and trucks alike were waiting for the show. He pulled, and pushed, backwards and forwards!
"OOO-EEEE, OOOH!" The trucks groaned. "WE CAN'T! WE WON'T!" they shouted aloud. But Diesel, who had terrified other trucks before, would not give in. Of course, he had not dealt with Sodor trucks for such a long time, that he was rather out of practice. Duck watched with vivid interest.
Diesel lost patience. He let out a roar that sent the trucks shaking. He gave a great heave, and the trucks lurched forward, their old wheels falling apart from the sheer force.
"Ooooohh eee, ohhhh!" They screamed aloud once more. "We CAN'T! We WON'T!" This time it was genuine, as some of their brakes snapped, and their gears got jammed right in the sleepers.
"Grrrr- rrrrrrr!" snarled Diesel.
"Hahaha!" chuckled Duck loudly. Diesel recovered and tried, in vain, to push the trucks back. But they wouldn't move, having finally just given up the ghost and hoped to just be allowed to die.
Duck nimbly and quietly ran round to get the other trucks. "Well-" he said brightly "-much thanks for arranging these Diesel, ah, but I must go now!"
"Don't you want this lot?!"
"What, this pile of rubbish? No thank you!"
Diesel gulped, a murderous look in his eyes. "And I went to all this trouble-" he almost shrieked. "-why didn't you help me!?"
"You never asked old chum!" Duck grinned. "Besides, you were having a ton of fun being rev-whatever it was. Goodbye!" And he puffed off cheerfully, to the sound of trucks cheering everywhere.
Diesel stared for a moment, and then let out a roar that echoed across the entire Island.
...
Diesel had to help clear the mess. Several of the workers crossed themselves and took a good strong drink, as picking up the dead trucks gave a whole new meaning to the term 'graveyard shift'. Diesel hated it, and not least because all the trucks were laughing and singing at him.
"Trucks are waiting in the yard!
Packing them with ease-l!
Show the world what I can do!
Gaily boasts the Diesel!
In and out he creeps about
Like a big black weasel!
When he pulls the wrong trucks out-
Pop Goes the Diesel!"
And they found this song particularly hilarious.
Diesel let out one last groan, as he scuttled away to sulk in the sheds with the breakdown train. "I left this accursed Island to gain some respect! Ah well...I can work this to my advantage. Mr Boomer will be delighted. And the first to go...will be that miserable engine Duck!"
He smiled. "Or my real name isn't...Well, let's not give the game away too early."
...
TO BE CONTINUED.