Cue the theme!
...
As odd as it sounds, I think Gordon's made some real progress since last we've seen you. Oh, sure, he's still the arrogant, speed obsessed 'won't shunt trucks unless you force him into it' engine that he was before, but...how to put it, less of that engine.
His alliance with Thomas is seemingly holding steady even after all this time, bar the occasional sarcastic remark here and there, and for the most part he seems to have let go of his feuds with Edward and Henry. He and Duck still cross paths on a number of issues, not least because Gordon appears to persist in that annoying habit of being a elitist with regards to the tank engines. Unfortunately, he is also falling into a rather unfortunate habit of pining for Daisy. Every so often she'll return from her little excursions to the outside world, plastered with more makeup, and he'll fall right back into the trap of getting into a relationship.
This makes it even harder when she leaves again and they break it off. He's grumpy for two months afterwards, and I have to give him the express otherwise we'll be rapidly running out of trucks to smash up.
Also, he has a slight...complex regarding his dome lately.
...
It was a important day in the yard, and most of the engines had been dragged into the sheds to celebrate this day. This had had the effect of making several of them very disgruntled indeed. James was already ranting at Donald for how after the Toby fiasco not long ago he didn't need to be even later. Donald was ignoring him though, as per usual.
Trevor and Bertie were commiserating on the fact that they had had to make their way over the rails without the aid of ramps, and therefore felt very sore in teh chassis. Duck was distracted by the appearance of Diesel, who was there supposedly as just a shunter for the important guest, but he had his doubts.
Ah yes. The visitor. Everyone was busy and excited, including the Kyndley and Jobling clans, who were fighting each other just to get a look. Already Jerimiah and Mrs Kyndley were on the verge of making the WWF look like a pillow fight.
It had even attracted a few lone journalists, making notes and taking photographs to sell to the local paper. This was a big deal, and this was helped along by the presence of Britt Allcroft and David Mitton, who were filming the entire thing with a number of different cameras.
A special visitor had arrived from the mainland, supposedly there on behalf of the Railway Society, who were making rounds all across the UK in a attempt to raise the profile of steam engines getting destroyed.
His name was City of Truro, and he was now the utter center of attention from engines and people alike. Henry had squealed when he had heard that he was coming, and had been left very angry at the fact that he had to go on shunting duty with BoCo at the big station.
Some knew the celebrity by name, but not all.
"Who is that?" whispered Thomas to Duck. He knew the body, of course, which steam engine didn't, but the name was rather hard to place.
"That!" said Duck with no small amount of pride. "Is a celebrity!"
"A what?!" asked Percy, who was deliberately playing up his cute and innocent persona for the cameras that day.
"A celebrity? You know, famous engine? We're ones ourselves thanks to the show."
"Yeah." Edward muttered. "Though he had a choice in it, I assume."
Toby smiled. "Well, my driver's been saying that we can all talk to him soon."
"Ha!" scoffed Thomas. "He's too important to speak to the likes of us! If I was that big, I'd ignore all the little engines as well! I can see how Gordon gets so...Gordon-like looking at that one."
"So why doesn't yon engine haff a face?" Douglas asked. No one answered, trying to give the air of it being too obvious while racking their brains to think of a reason why he didn't have a face.
Just then, Gordon arrived. He did not enter to his usual burst of trumpets that signalled the arrival of the next big thing, but rather a bent out of shape tuba. He glared over at City of Truro, who was now posing for the cameras, and let out a audible "PAH!"
"Who cares-" he continued. "-a lot of fuss about nothing if you ask me!"
"No one did!" called one of the two twins.
Gordon steamed away angrily to do the things that Gordon did when he was angry. Usually rant about how his ex was terrible and how he should really be in charge of running the railway full time.
...
Later on, the engines found that Truro wasn't conceited at all. He enjoyed talking to the other engines until the stars came out.
"So then, I said to the horse, I said "Hey! You wouldn't happen to be Mallard's brother would you?" Am I right?"
Laughter echoed out.
"Ahhhh, fun times." Thomas smiled. "So, er, you going back tomorrow?"
"Sadly, yes."
"Pity really. We could trade you for Gordon?"
"Railway Society values their money a bit better than that." Truro paused. "Actually, would it be okay if Duck gave me a hand preparing me for the journey back? I'm taking some of the coaches with the railway enthusiasts in, and I need to be shunted round."
Duck agreed, and as the other engines said goodnight, the two puffed off onto the sidings.
...
"You know, I didn't expect your mission to take this long."
"Well, things got complicated. I wasn't expecting, certainly, a attack from the other side so soon after my arrival. He's tried to get back in several times, but he's been prevented. I heard personally that Sir Topham Hatt hasn't let any engines in without a extensive vetting process."
"Honestly that's the best thing to do in this situation. I'd like to apologize. We should have contacted you by now, but we've been held up in other matters."
"Oh?"
"Agents Jinty, Pug and Puffa reported a few years back that the Bigg City Port was nearly completely destroyed. We were barely able to get a evacuation for all the people there, many of the tugs weren't so lucky."
"God. It's spreading."
"Like a cancer. Worst part is is that we have nothing to go on. Every goosebump, every whisper, every hint, we have to follow up on. There's rumors over in America that several tugs from the Bigg City escaped to a harbor, led by someone called the Dispatcher. There's another rumor that a group of sentient jets have taken up residence in a place known only as London Airport. Honestly, it's nigh impossible to deal with all of them."
"So what's the job?"
"Stay here. Watch out. Scotsman will be coming here some time this year to update you further, but what I can tell you without doubt is that if the first blow against everything we hold dear is coming, it happens here."
"Thank you sir!"
"Those are some good engines you've got there Montague."
"Yes. They are, aren't they?"
...
Truro left the next morning. Thomas and Duck were already beginning to set up the trains for the morning when Gordon arrived.
After a brief moment of silence, in which Duck and Thomas looked at each other and grinned in anticipation, Gordon spoke out. "Good riddance!" he grumbled. "He kept me up all night, chattering away, who does he think he is!?"
"First of all." Thomas said casually. "You weren't there for most of it."
"I got the gist!"
"And secondly, he's famous! Duck told you. Repeatedly."
"As famous as me?! Never!"
"He went at a hundred miles per hour before you even considered moving that fat tender of yours out." Duck said calmly. Thomas started laughing, and Gordon turned beet red.
"So he says!"
"It's in a record book."
"So's a lot of things! But I don't trust engines like that! Have you seen him!? I didn't like his looks! He has not one single dome on his person! Never trust domless engines, they aren't respectable in the slightest! I'd never boast-"
"No." agreed Duck and Thomas with straight faces.
"-but I'd say a hundred miles would be easy for me! And I'd do it better than that Truro engine any day of the week!" And he puffed off angrily to get his next train ready.
Duck sighed. "He'll never change."
"Would you want him to?"
"Just a little. Just lose a bit of the judgmental attitude and I could stomach his pompous nature and his put-downs and his conceit and-" Duck went on quite a while in that vein.
...
Eventually, Duck ran out of things to mention about Gordon, and took a train of trucks to Edward's station. Edward was sitting in a siding listening to his CD player and humming away. Duck whistled.
"Gah! Hello!" Edward jumped and his driver hurriedly removed his headphones. "That famous engine came through my station earlier! He whistled to me and told me that I was doing a good job. Wasn't he kind?"
"I don't know, I wasn't ALLOWED TO COME!" wailed Henry as he passed by with one of the expresses.
"He's the finest engine in the world!" said Duck with no small amount of passion. Then he told Edward what Gordon had said.
"Oh god, really? I swear, he's obsessed with domes. Take no notice." said Edward with a hint of annoyance in his voice. "You know the scales of karma are stacked heavily against him. He's just jealous. As per frigging usual. Oh and look, here comes the blue devil now."
Gordon practically roared through Wellsworth, eyes fixed straight ahead with a massive scowl that would make most people assume that he had seen a act of horrific violence. His wheels pounded the rails, in some cases smacking them out of shape. His eye was twitching like mad as he hissed out the words "He did it, I'll do it! He did it, I'll do it!"
His train rocketed past and was gone from sight and sound within seconds.
Edward frowned. "So...five pounds on him crashing."
"You're on. He'll knock himself to bits." chuckled Duck.
...
Gordon thundered through the forest at speeds that no engine should even think about approaching with passengers on board. Unless said passengers are corpses or training dummies.
"Steady Gordon!" called his driver. "We aren't running a race!"
"You might not be. We are then." said Gordon, but he did so to himself. As he whooshed by, he nearly took off the head of a passing bird, angering Henry no end.
"YOU TOOL OF DESTRUCTION!" He screamed at the retreating blue engine.
"Ram it up your firebox, Henry!" came the reply. Suddenly, Gordon began to feel more than a little strange, and that wasn't due to Henry's curses reaching his attention. "Hey, the top of my boiler seems weird." He said to no one in particular. "Uh...maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Something feels loose! I better slow down!"
But of course, it was too late. Because it was always too late.
They were heading towards the viaduct, having finally been repaired only a year ago, and on that viaduct, they met the wind. They couldn't sit down and shake it's hand personally because it was a teasing wind that blew suddenly and hard. No dirty jokes please.
Gordon thought it was going to push him off the bridge, because Gordon always thought that the elements were out to get him. But the wind had other, more nefarious ideas.
"No you don't!" he screamed to the wind. The wind responded by curling under his dome, as if saying 'Oh really?'.
It curled around his boiler, wrapped it's big hands around the dome and lifted it up, up and away into the valley river below.
Gordon was most uncomfortable.
...
He got even more so as he entered Knapford Yards, The cold wind was already whistling through the hole in his boiler left by his loss of dome and dignity, and he was already wishing he had brought a scarf to work. He felt really silly without it. Having dropped off his coaches at the first station he had come to, he tried to crawl home without anyone noticing.
He failed.
The trucks had already started laughing at him as he entered the big station. Even as Gordon tried to weesh them away, like paparazzi they crowded around him and took great note of every little tick in his face betraying just how angry and upset he was.
On the way back to the shed along the large rails along the bank, Gordon wanted his driver to stop and search for his dome. Both men in the cab laughed their heads off at that.
"We'll never find it now, you great stupid berk!" said the driver, not mincing his words. "You'll have to go to the works for a new one! I hope it's shaped like a penis, cause it shows how you acted today!"
"Thanks." groused Gordon.
As he puffed by the canal, he began to formulate many witty responses to the questions he would get. Those fell apart by the time he reached the exit to the valley. "I hope the sheds are empty tonight." he said to no one in particular.
...
Gordon sighed as he entered. Things seemed to be going-
"Hey Gordon."
Gordon groaned. All the engines were waiting. Duck, Thomas, Percy, James and Toby looked at him with innocent expressions that betrayed mirth. Biting back a response, Gordon got onto the turntable.
As he turned-
"Never trust domeless engines." said a voice that sounded suspiciously like Duck. "-they aren't respectable."