Just a quick thank you note to all of the people reading this story! It wouldn't be as fun without you. Also to note, this is the half-way mark of Season 3, so it's here I'll take a quick break to work on the TUGS Abridged project.
And now, cue the theme!
...
Edward and Toby's story had been contained mostly to the Fat Controller and the other engines at Tidmouth. They reacted with a mixture of horror and curiosity over what had happened. Understandably, Donald and Douglas had gone whiter than a sheet and had agreed that they were not going to talk about this in the slightest. Duck looked thoughftul, and spent a lot of time there after talking with his driver and fireman about things that the other engines didn't know. But the other engines mostly contained themselves to vague wondering.
...
The next day, Thomas the Tank Engine was feeling bright and cheerful. It was a splendid day, and he was so happy that he didn't realize that he had gone onto Toby's old tramway until it was too late, and even then they managed to get to the next station in record time.
"Why is it that we keep going up there?" questioned Annie, before Thomas's cheeriness came back in full force.
"Good morning sun! Good morning trees! Good morning cows!" He whistled this to a field of very mellow cows who had no idea of what a steam train was. They therefore didn't reply, and thus spent the rest of their lives in blissful ignorance as to what the big blue thing that randomly shouted words at them was.
If you think that stopped Thomas from being his usual smugly cheerfully sense, you haven't been paying attention. "Never mind, they're busy with their breakfast!"
"It's twelve o'clock."
"Your point being?"
"Anyone having their breakfast at this hour is a idiot."
"Hush! The cows may hear you!"
Next, he saw Bertie. The bus was in a bad mood already, as he drove around the corner that came closest to the railway, he practically bounced off the road and into a large hole that had been left there.
"Care for a race, Bertie?"
"OW! **** ME WITH A SIDE OF CHIPS! Another hole in the road?!"
"Another brick in the wall!" Thomas cheerfully puffed off. "Sorry Bertie!"
...
He was still in good humor when Bertie finally made it to the station. The bus drove in with a face like thunder and limping, as it was, with a injured front tire. Thomas's smile could have provided power to the entire UK for a week. "Bad luck Bertie! Now, if you were a steam engine, you'd be running on really reliable rails!"
"Like that time they buckled due to the sun?"
"Doesn't count."
"Or that they once led you to a unsafe mineshaft?"
"Bertie, why do you have such a downer on the railway? I mean, even more so than usual."
Bertie snorted. "Look Thomas, you may think your precious railway is the bees knees, but it's not! Trust me, for us types on the road, having to rely on trains is the worst! The railway was supposed to deliver tar that would help fix this goddamn mess of a road up two weeks ago."
"Well that's not our fau-"
"You can't trust a thing that runs on rails!"
Thomas looked at Bertie. Despite himself, he felt somewhat hurt. "I run on rails! You can trust me, Bertie. I'll see if I can find out what happened." He hesitated, before puffing off, towards the section of line where his branch-line intersected with the Big Station's yard. This left a fuming Bertie to ponder what he had just said.
He shrugged
Wasn't like the little blue puffball would actually do anything. He was the most arrogant son of a motherless goat whose name wasn't James or Gordon.
As if he'd actually even remember Bertie's story.
...
Elsewhere, at the yard, things were going...well, they were going. Edward was pulling the express, and he rolled his eyes at Douglas, who laughed. The object of their amusement was James, who was snorting about the yard so much you'd swear he had stolen some China Clay.
"IT'S TOO BAD!" He snarled as he banged into some trucks. "Percy gets to go and work at the harbor for a extra few days, and now I'm stuck here with the filthy trucks!"
"Racis-AAAAAAH!" One truck went flying.
"TAKE THAT!"
"Oooooh!" groaned the trucks "Just you wait! We'll show you."
Gordon, who was supposed to be helping James but had backed off because of a bad back (James suspected that Gordon had gotten out of this so he wouldn't have to do hard work) laughed loudly. "Hey, I'll let you in on a little secret."
"Is it about your shrine to Daisy? Because trust me, I know."
"NO!" Gordon coughed. "No, if you pretend to ill everywhere...well, put it like this. You couldn't shunt trucks here or go to the quarry there!"
"Hang on!? Percy!"
Percy rushed off, feeling embarrassed that James had spotted him despite all of his cunning disguises. This false mustache hadn't worked at all!
James grinned. "What a good idea!" He gasped in delight. "Oh look! Thomas! Let's try now!" Both engines assumed the faces of mourners at the funeral of a close friend as Thomas backed down.
Thomas had overheard the tail end of the conversation, but he had the feeling that his driver hadn't. So that meant he had to play the good Samaritan "Cheer up, assholes. It's a beautiful day!"
"Yes." said Gordon gravely. "But not for James."
"Why?" Thomas asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear what Gordon was going to make up.
"He's sick." Gordon nodded.
"Yes he i-I mean I am! I-I don't feel well at all! I've got...backward...signalitis!"
Thomas stared at the stuttering James. Then he sighed. "Don't worry. I'll help out if you're ill." He wished his driver wouldn't force him to say such over the top things. It made him look like a happy go lucky idiot.
James smiled feebly. Personally it was a performance that would have made Kenneth Branagh weep, but Thomas's driver wanted to get things over with, so he ignored this and went to get James's trucks.
The second Thomas was gone, both Gordon and James sniggered to each other.
Some of James's trucks were located not too far from the edge of the yard, and they were coupled up behind Thomas. The blue engine hurried along to the quarry to get the rest. He was on the verge of fuming, but was determined that this would not spoil his day in the slightest.
The trucks though were still angry. The world view of the average truck is bad enough without engines like James beating them up, so you can imagine the vile things that went through their minds. "We couldn't pay James back for bumping us! So we'll pay tricks on Thomas instead! One engine is as good as another!"
"See, this is why no one likes you." sarcastically commented a brake-van.
...
Thomas, mind you, was deaf to everything that wasn't fitting his whole sunshine, rainbows and kittens riding on magical unicorns frame of mind at the moment. He collected all the stone from the quarry, ignoring Toby trying in vain to teach the new diesel how to work it so that the entire place didn't explode, and set off for the next station.
Thomas crossed over the quarry bridge, feeling the wood strain. "Why don't they just get rid of this bridge and get another?" he wondered in a mutter. This gave the trucks a idea, but that must wait for another time.
Danger lay ahead. One could say that about nearly every part of the Island, but in this case, one of the sidings led to a ferry that would take trucks across. No engine should ever cross it, they were warned.
"Now for our plan!" giggled the trucks.
"Plan?" Thomas had just about enough time to mouth the words "Oh Sh-" before the trucks barged into him.
"Go faster! Go faster!"
"Slow up! Slow up!" exclaimed Thomas. Actually, exclaim isn't the right word. Screamed would be more appropriate.
His driver applied the brakes, and it was on;y thanks to this that Thomas didn't immediately end up face down in a muddy river. He had had enough of that last week. But how was he to know that the alcohol at Crovan's Gate was so strong?
It didn't stop Thomas from smashing through the first set of buffers. The coupling jolted, freeing the trucks from their tyrannical chains and Thomas was sent careening on the ferry across to the other side.
He winced in advance as he hit the bank with force. His buffers shuddered and bent somewhat, and when Thomas opened his eyes, he saw a angry toad eyeing him up in a suspicious manner. Thomas was dazed and surprised enough to think that this was a normal occurrence.
"Bust my buffers." muttered Thomas as the ferry began to sink. "The day started so well too."
"There was your mistake." remarked the fireman, who tried in vain to leap across before he sank into the mud.
If James Cameron had been there, he probably would have played Nearer My God to Thee. But he wasn't. So instead Thomas just sank undignified.
...
Eventually, after some time, Duck arrived to take away the trucks, lecturing them all the while about just what a lot of silly asses they had been.
Not long after, Edward arrived pulling the Breakdown Train. "Need a hand, Thomas?"
"No. This is how I spend my afternoons now." Thomas sighed. "Thanks Edward."
"No prob old son."
On their way back to the junction, suddenly Thomas remembered something. "Uh, Edward?"
"Hmm?"
"Well, this is a odd time to ask, but you know Bertie?"
"The bus?"
"His road has been waiting for some tar recently? Apparently it was to be delivered by rail."
Edward frowned as they pulled around the corner, sending Thomas hanging for dear life. "Now that's strange." He remarked. "A truck or two of tar's been left at my station! Must be for Bertie. Driver, could you make sure it gets to Bertie now?"
"I'm just a slave to you, aren't I?" Charlie Sand remarked.
"You're the driver. I'm the brains." Thomas shared a good laugh with Edward about this.
...
Later, when Thomas had been left somewhat undignified in the Yard, James spoke to him.
"I'm sorry about your accident!" He said wearily. "And so is Gordon."
"Am I?!"
"We didn't mean to get you into trouble."
"No." coughed Gordon, trying to look natural. "No indeed! A m-mere misunderstanding! Still, all's well that end's well, that's what I say!" He tried to smile, and then didn't because of the rather vengeful look on Thomas's face.
Just then, Bertie arrived. He looked far more cheerful. "My road's being mended now!"
"Oh." said Thomas in a rather hurt voice. "I'm glad."
"Thanks for all you did." Bertie had the decency to look greatly embarrassed. "Now I know that I can trust a engine! Especially if his name is Thomas."
Thomas sighed. "Thanks Bertie. At least SOMEONE CAN TREAT ME RIGHT."
James and Gordon had hurried off to the sheds. Bertie left not long afterwards, leaving Thomas to his own thoughts. He still had company.
"Well." he remarked aloud. "What a day for surprises!"
The toad, looking forward to a ride home, agreed.
Then Thomas noticed he had a toad on his buffers. "AAH! AH! AH! AH! HELP! HELP! SLIMY THING! KILL IT! WITH FIRE!"
Thomas is now terrified of toads.
...
"Sir...we regret to inform you-"
The Fat Director held up his hand, and the soldier fell silent. The Director raised a cigarette to his mouth and took a long, deep puff. After he sighed, he looked at the Captain. "Continue."
"Uh, well...most of the scrap has made it either to the Island or to areas of protection. We can't track one Great Western engine and his brake-van, but at this rate-"
"So. Total loss." The Director sighed. "Captain, do you know who those two...engines were that interfered with the recruitment process?"
"Not exactly. I bet Marklin would know."
"Soldier, you're dismissed." The soldier rushed out, happy he hadn't been cut to pieces. Director and Captain looked at each other for a moment. Well that was a lie. The Captain looked at the Director. The Director looked through the Captain.
"Ach, you're wasting ye're bloody time with this lot!" The Captain was full of contempt. "The worst navy cadets would be better at a fight than these Raggy Dolls!"
"They are unrefined yes. But there is something to be said for pure, unbridled idiocy. Put a smart man in a delicate situation and he'll try and reason his way out. Put a dumb man in and he'll raze everything to the ground in the time it takes for you or I to sneeze." The Director looked out over the Other Railway. "A pity about the scrap engines. They would have made our latest initiation so much easier."
From the conversion came the sounds of screams of utter agony.
"Turn up the music."
The Captain growled, placing a record on a old fashioned record player. The sounds of 'The Lark Ascending' drowned out the screams of the steam engines undergoing the worst operation of their lives.
"Ach, ye really think that bloody yank Boomer'll fill up his end of the bargain?"
"I have faith that he won't dare disappoint me."
"Do you now?"
"Faith you should share. I'm the one who rescued you. Everything's coming together."
...
What's he talking about? What does this mean?
TUNE INTO TUGS ABRIDGED TO FIND OUT.