"I just don't see it, m'self."
"You wouldn't." accused James angrily. "You wouldn't know genius if it rammed you straight in the buffers!"
Toby mildly smiled. "That's as maybe James. But I tell you this. You're about as likely to get a single in the Top Ten as the Krankies." He sighed. "Sorry, it's a bit harsh, but it's the truth. I mean your attempts to break into light entertainment have been-" He cast about for a word that wasn't nearly as insulting as his actual thought was.
"Distracting?" Henry remarked, coming to the rescue.
"Exactly! I mean, I'm not saying you shouldn't try, but could you maybe do it in a off season? Instead of dragging me and Percy into yet another hair-brained scheme?" Toby nodded towards the projector, which had refused point-blank to show James's rendition of 'Ashes to Ashes' once more than need be.
"HA!" scoffed James. "I will be famous some day! And you'll be sorry!" He puffed off self-importantly, leaving Toby and Henry to roll their eyes and get on with their work.
...
In the orchard, Trevor was enjoying himself. His work had mostly returned to pottering around, doing any odd jobs he fancied. The vicar had grown somewhat calmer, and so had not gotten drunk for quite a while. This was a relief not only to Trevor and Jem Cole, but to his parishioners too. No longer would Teddy randomly throw wine at the choir boys screaming "OUT OUT SATAN BEGONE!" like he had in his worst days.
Still though...Trevor had known Edward for a while now, and so both had discussed the strange tale of the curse that the Vicar had told. It troubled him.
As the birds sang, and the apples grew juicy and ripe, James bustled in. Trevor grinned. Despite himself, he had a great fondness for James. The two never really quarreled, a fact that put Trevor in a small minority of people, engines or other such creatures on the Island.
"Hello Trevor!" James called, stopping by the orchard for the school children inside to head on in and pick apples. "You look almost as bright and cheerful as my red paint! Anything more is impossible, but very nice indeed!"
"Oh I am!"
"You're impossible?"
"No, I mean, cheerful. It's a nice morning. Good to get rid of those winter blues, if you ask me."
"Or blues in general." James suggested. He frowned and listened. "Sorry, but what's that noise?"
"Oh that? That's the Vicar's latest passion" Trevor glanced aside to a few white things littering the orchard. "They're bees. All of them have been contained in those boxy things, I believe the Vicar refers to them as hives. He took it up about a week ago, and he's sad to give it up for the moment." Trevor shrugged. "But he says they make excellent honey. I have to take them to the station later. They're being given to some of his friends, mostly those who know how to use beehives."
"He doesn't, does he?" James snootily remarked, pretending that he was the, pardon the pun, bees knees. "Well i mean, it's obvious if you know how, isn't it?"
A loud honking of a horn made them turn to see BoCo pull up, with a long line of cattle vans trailing behind him. He smiled cheerfully at James, who nodded warily. It wasn't that he hated BoCo, it was just that...he was always aware that he had been one of the big defenders of Diesel when he had first arrived, and so had a slight paranoia that he was being played for a fool.
"I know I'm stating the obvious, but take care you two." He warned. "Don't make the bees angry. They may sting you. And then you'll end up looking like Gordon."
Trevor laughed, but James, mindful already that he had been lectured earlier today, frowned. He didn't like being told what to do. Especially by a diesel. He buzzed away, pun not intended again, without saying goodbye.
"Oh dear." BoCo sighed. "Well, this is off to a great start."
"Don't worry." comforted Trevor. "He just needs some time to cool off."
"Ah well. Ta Trevor." BoCo quickly hurried off to see Duck at the harbor. He had a feeling that he would be drinking a great deal.
...
"Make mine a scotch!" Duck instructed the bartender as he tried in vain to reign in the freak hurricanes that were Bill and Ben. The tank engine twins were busy arranging trucks this ways and that, and Duck was becoming increasingly aware that all his training, guile and intelligence was no match for the hellions.
So when they scampered away, he was relieved. Even more so to spot BoCo moving in.
"Morning Duck."
"Morning BoCo." Duck moaned in agony as he tried to sooth his injured pride with the scotch. "Those two are terrors!"
"I remember the very first time I came here! They made my bloody eyes pop out! Edward put a stop to it, but he's gotten so busy over the years." BoCo sighed. "Weirdly enough, I feel old."
"Well, it's just those two. So young still. And you're right. Edward is the only one who can even vaguely keep them in order. I sometimes call them the bees, just for the hell of it."
"It's a good name." agreed BoCo. "They're even worse terrors when they start buzzing around."
James arrived at that moment, having angrily decided that he was going to blow off steam by taking out his anger on some trucks. He immediately jumped in with one of his famous cutting remarks. Cutting as a spoon, anyway. "What's that, Duck? Afraid of bees? They're only insects after all, so don't you dare let that buzzbox diesel tell you what to do!"
"Racist." muttered Duck. He wondered if James was being clever by using the term buzzbox. He quickly dismissed the idea. "His name is BoCo, and he was trying to be funny. We-"
"I wouldn't care!" continued James, in the midst of yet another rambling monologue praising himself. "If hundreds of them wanted at me, I would merely blow smoke and frighten them away! They'd buzz off then! I'd become the bogey-engine of bees!"
"Buzz buzz." Duck remarked.
This angered James for some reason. He was very sensitive, as has been noted before.
...
The next morning, James arrived at Tidmouth to collect his coaches. Thomas whistled at him as he puffed away with a second set for Gordon. James smiled, and gave him a whistle. He could afford it this morning. He felt in fine spirits.
It was not to last.
The passengers were keen and excited to get on board and get out of Tidmouth, which still smelt a bit from all of the weed that was being smoked there. Several of the porters had taken some as well, which might explain why they thought pulling one of the bee hives onto a heavily crowded platform was a good idea. Even as the porter shouted "MIND YOUR BACKS!" the hive hit a person and toppled forward.
"Well that's unfortunate." remarked Mrs Kyndley before running faster than a lady her age should have.
And then there was trouble.
It was impressive how fast the station cleared like magic. One beehive had effectively rid the station of a hundred people.
James frowned. "Oi! Why aren't you coming to admire me splendidness!? I-" And then he saw the bees. "Ah. Oh. Oooh heck." He heard the familiar buzzing, as the bees began to swarm around. They were certainly animated, though they were too tired and cold to be cross. They headed over to James's fireman, hoping that he could mend their hive. The fireman hid under a blanket, while his driver began frantically saying every prayer he could think of. Neither of them understood.
So the bees turned to James.
His boiler was nice and warm, and the bees rushed upon him, soaking up the heat as the fireman tried in vain to calm them down. James was outraged! Black did not go with red one bit this time!
"Buzz off! Buzz off!" He said, unaware of how many bee puns he had already made,, and he hissed steam at them. "Ha! Take that you brutes! You messed with the wrong engine!"
One bee burnt his foot. "OOH! EEH! AH!" he screamed, in bee-tongue. He rose up into the air, determined to get some form of revenge, for what he saw as a purposeful attack.
James stared. "Where is he?! Where is-"
The bee hurtled down and...stung James on the nose.
...
Somewhere on Mars, the scream echoed across the red canyons, scaring any life that would have emerged back into it's crater.
...
James had had enough. So had his driver and fireman.
"MY NOBE!" wailed James through his now glowing nose. He set off so fast that he left the coaches sitting at the platform. Thomas, having just returned, was incredibly baffled.
...
They tried everything to get the bees to leave James. At first, they stuck him on a turntable and began turning it faster and faster to try and shake them off, to no avail.
"OH NO!" wailed James. "NOBT ABGAIN!"
Then they tried washing them off, which only made them cling to James harder, while James got a noseful of water for his troubles. Which made his speaking problem even worse. He was now also cold and cross. He now had one thing in common with the bees.
Then they tried smoking. But this made James cough.
So they put him in a tunnel and forced him to try and fry the bees once more in his own steam. It also didn't work and it left James with a hacking cough that persisted for the next three days.
It also made him nigh-unintelligible and caused him to refuse to speak for the next three days until the sting wore off.
"Well James." remarked his driver. "We'll just have to head back to the orchard and fetch another hive." He stood back quickly as James let out a roar that was inhuman, even if it was partly drowned out by the droning of hte bees.
The Vicar waited anxiously for James. Once he arrived, the Vicar grinned as the bees fled from his boiler towards a brand new warm, state of the art hive.
"Come on James, what you need is a good hose down!"
James muttered something obscene under his breath.
...
That evening, the Vicar arrived at the sheds to thank James. Duck was feeling chipper that day, and so had negotiated with the other engines to make sure that no one laughed at James.
To his face, anyway.
"Thank you for saving my bees, son." James glared as the Vicar carried on. "You know, it is a pity it's not Christmas. Then when we could call you James the Red Nosed Engine."
And that triggered it. Everyone who had been holding back couldn't help themselves. They laughed long and hard. Even James did, though that sounded more like a choking snarl to be honest.
Instead, they referred to him as the Bee Knees. Partially because the bee pun was too good to pass up, but also because he was supposedly more useful than ever.
Yeah. Wrap your head around that one.