Cue the theme!
...
Yes, it's odd really Miss Allcroft. See, there's been this rumor going around for...well, since the last series in fact, that Percy is somewhat of a fortune teller. I didn't put much stock in it meself, I saw some of the connections as quite frankly ridiculous. For example, he apparently predicted the fall of the Berlin Wall. Well quite frankly, he was right. So was everyone else, because quite honestly, you put a bloody wall that size up, you've counting down the days before you knock it down. Also, apparently he predicted that Nelson Mandela would be freed. Somehow the clever engine got his hands on a early copy of the Sodor Telegraph and read about it!
No, I didn't put much stock in this...until, well...remember that episode at the docks? Where Percy fell in and had to be dragged out? Before that business with Duck and Diesel? Well, he was telling Bill and Ben a story about him braving bad weather to help Thomas. And everyone was like, that hasn't happened.
Only it has.
Now.
Spooky.
...
Every summer the Island of Sodor is very busy. Then again, so is nearly everywhere else in the world, but this Island in particular. It's the time of nudists to frolic n the watermill's pond for no reason, the time for enviromentalists (Lead by Henry) to complain once more that the River Els needed to be fixed somewhat thanks to the rather nasty smell and also holiday maker to sight see. This means that Edward and Thomas are usually forced to carry them around to the big station for the bigger engines to take.
Some people like to go to the mountains, some to the valleys and others to the strip clubs. Those were the kinds of people that the Railway tried to point blank ignore, but discovered that this was rather hard. Because those tended to be the high ranking politicians.
"Uh. driver?"
"Yep."
"What are we doing on Toby's old line?"
"...Oh balls."
...
Children love the seaside. One day, Thomas was puffing along the line that runs by the coast. They were heading through Arlesburgh to make a quick stop to drop off a party of people who wanted to see the sea, and his two coaches were packed with children who wanted to go to the beach.
Everyone was happy. At least I assume so, I don't get to know everybody in the entire world very well. Thomas pulled into Tidmouth Hault, a new station that had become operational in 1987 and was already beginning to need some repairs.
Percy was there, taking some trucks to the harbor. "Hello Thomas! You look cheerful." This was said as more of a subtle jab to Thomas, for Percy had received rather a lot of mocking relating to scarfs since the winter. "I wish I could take children today instead of trucks."
"Yeah, too bad." said Thomas carelessly. Percy shot him a look and Thomas wised up. "Oh well...they're Vicar Teddy's summer school-"
"Ah. Summer school. A worse punishment than actual school."
"Indeed." agreed Thomas gravely. "I'm busy this evening, doing crosswords, but the stationmaster said that I can ask you to take them home!"
"He did!?" snapped Stationmaster Norris, recently promoted. "Well he hasn't heard about it!"
"I'm busy though!" whined Thomas. "Seven down's a real stumper! Besides! Look at his little face!" Norris groaned and decided that life was too short to stress out about such things, so he nodded and walked away.
"Of course I will!" promised Percy.
"Hmm? Oh, right-"
"Right...well I'll leave you to it."
...
Later, Percy saw Harold at Dryaw. He groaned. Somehow Harold had not managed to crash into a tree since their last race and thus had been promoted ahead to living in the actual airfield there.
"Sorry Percy old chap! Can't talk!"
"What makes you think I want to talk to you?" muttered Percy rebelliously.
"I'm on high alert."
There was silence before Percy worked out what he was supposed to say. "Why?"
"Bad weather's due! My help is always needed!"
"Well your head is up in the clouds so much." Percy agreed.
"Mind how you go, Percy!"
"PAH!" puffed Percy crossly. "As long as I've got rails and wheels to run on them, I can go anywhere, in any weather at any time! Good bye!" He puffed off angrily, as James passed him.
James rolled his eyes. "How's the scarf-"
"Oh shut up!"
...
He set off for the beach but stopped temporarily by Elsbridge so as someone could decouple his trucks. It was a beautiful day, but Edward was worried. He eyed the sky with nervousness.
"Be careful!" he warned. "There's a storm coming. I can feel it in my boiler. That and the weatherman said it was so."
"A promise is a promise!" declared Percy. "No matter what the weather!" and he puffed off, leaving Edward to grimly wait for his last train so he could get back to Wellsworth and wait out the storm in his shed.
...
The children had had a wonderful time. True, several of them had nearly drowned and the Vicar had been carried off briefly by a massive wave, but that was practically normal for the Island of Sodor. But as they got back onto the platform and into the carriages, dark storm clouds crackled with lightning and clapped with thunder.
Annie and Clarabel were pleased when Percy arrived, for he was just in time for the rain to start. A brake-van had been coupled on to make life easier for the guard, and so Percy was suddenly pelted with rain as the guard and his assistants began to move towards the van.
"Ohhhh." he shivered, and thought of his nice dry shed. And of Thomas in it. Somehow that cancelled out the good thoughts.
He puffed with great effort over Arlesburgh, jealously wondering how the rest of the population were enjoying the Island, and grimly attempted to focus ahead. He struggled on past coastal villages and into the countryside. He ran along side the track that ran along the bank and forced himself to think about the smug look on James's face when he triumphed.
He glanced down and did a double take. Surely the water hadn't risen that much! "I wish I could see! I wish I could see!" he complained, and he squawked as they headed on a downwards slope.
Trouble lay ahead, to say the least.
Percy stared at the water that was now rising up to his wheels. "Bloody hell!" he shouted. This was tamer than what Carlin shouted, which can't be recorded here for decency's sake.
"Oh." he hissed once more. "The water is sloshing my fire."
"YEAH, WE KNOW!" shouted his crew, who waded back to the guard van and confronted the guard, a grumpy old man ready for retirement. "I'll have some of your floorboards please!" said Carlin grimly.
"I'm not selling floorboards."
"Give me the ******* boards, buddy."
"I only swept the floor this morning." grumbled the guard.
"Plus side." said the fireman brightly. "You got a free wash into the deal.
Soon, the boards were crackling nicely in the fire, and Percy felt warm and comfortable. As much as he could be with his wheels still in the water.
And then he saw Harold, returning his mood right back to square one. "Oh terrific! Harold's here to laugh at me! All we need now is James and the humiliation train is complete!"
Something thudded onto Percy's boiler. "AND NOW HE'S THROWING THINGS AT ME!" Percy wailed. "OW! He needn't do that!"
"It's a parachute!" laughed Carlin, always joyous to see someone's suffering in bad times. "Harold's dropping hot drinks for us!"
"And you know this how?"
"I can smell booze from a mile off. Why do you think we're always on time? It's not so I can please Fat Hatt!"
Percy bit back many responses, before reluctantly shouting up. "Thank you Harold!" He deliberately put enough stress on the 'thank' so it could sound rather ruder.
"Good to be of service old chap!" Harold said chirpily, ignoring Percy's insult, and he buzzed away. As soon as he was gone, Percy felt he had just enough strength to try again. And so slowly, he began to puff forward.
The water lapped Percy's wheels and he tried not to focus on the trout that were playing hide and seek in between his wheels. He was losing steam once more, but he bravely pushed on through the water and forced himself up onto the dry land again.
"I promised!" he panted. "I promised!" This mantra was repeated as he forced himself on, and he couldn't help but wonder if he'd done this before. It was raining hard, water swirled under his boiler, he couldn't see where he was going...but he struggled on.
He made one last huge effort and at last, exhausted but triumphant, steamed into the station.
"Well done Percy!" cheerfully stated Thomas. "You kept your promise despite everything."
"WHAT HAPPENED TO THAT BLOODY CROSSWORD?!" screamed Percy. Thomas frowned and then realized.
"Oh. Uh...real stumper, seven down! I would have come to help you but, er, look at the time!"
Percy was about to tell Thomas where he could stick his stumper, when Harold landed. The Fat Controller dismounted with his waterproof clothes and waddled over. First he thanked the men, bar Carlin who had run off to get drunk somewhere, then Percy.
"Harold tells me that you were...er, wizard. A corky wizard, in fact." Hatt's face betrayed that he had no idea what the helicopter was saying. "He says he can beat you at somethings but not at being a submarine"
"CHEEK!"
"I don't know what he means. But I do know that you're a really useful engine."
"Oh sir!" exclaimed Percy, and he whistled loud, sending one of the trouts hurtling into the Fat Controller's eyes.
Percy groaned.