ONE HUNDRED EPISODES NEXT TIME. WOW. HOW'D I GET THIS FAR? The answer, of course, is all of you!
CUE THE THEME!
Toby the Tram Engine has cowcatchers and sideplates. This is for everyone who don't have the use of eyes, or has somehow completely forgotten this very important piece of information despite the fact that we are on the 99th episode of a very long running show with tons of merchandise. They help to prevent animals getting hurt if they stray onto the line. Again, just reminding you.
His mind was on other things as he entered Elsbridge one bonny summer day. Henrietta was brooding rather badly, angrily complaining that no one would give her anything interesting to do in the show. She wasn't wrong, but Toby was trying to keep everyone happy and so had told her that they would talk about it later. He had gotten hell for that.
His mood was not improved by what he saw. "DAISY!?"
"Oh, hello, Toby!" It was like she had never left. The Fat Controller had told Toby that he was going to get some help on the branch-line for a bit while he made sure that Thomas and Percy were specially fitted for some sort of trip that he had planned. Hatt had told him that he'd explain when the time was right. Toby had rather hoped that it wasn't Daisy who had been sent, for although he liked her, he was aware that they always tended to clash when the cameras were turned on them.
Like today.
Daisy thought Toby's fenders were silly. She didn't half mention it.
"So, still got those silly sideplates."
"Still got that bad attitude."
"Never mind the cows. You're afraid of getting hurt yourself!" she flounced, in a flouncy manner.
"I'm not! Besides, who likes a ruddy cow being buried under your wheels? It's not pleasant, is it? It's not my idea of a good time. I'm sure that there are some people who like getting stuck into farm animals, but those people are what we call weirdos. Or farmers. Or weirdo farmers, if you want to combine the two."
Percy whistled as he passed, sharing a sympathetic look with Toby. Daisy continued. "You are! I mean, I don't have cowcatchers or sideplates, and I'm defenseless, but you wouldn't see me shrieking at some silly uddery thing came my way. I'd just toot and they'd all just go away."
"Okay, are we talking about cows or your love life, here?"
"Hysterical, henhouse."
"They don't, anyway." Toby grinned at James, hoping to get some sympathy. He didn't.
"They would with me. They recognize a true leader and visionary when they see one. Animals always run away and rethink their life choices if you look them in the eye as you do so and toot!"
"Even bulls?"
"Even bulls!" said Daisy with suicidal confidence. She had never met a bull, shock of all shocks, but still she prattled and hummed off, leaving Toby to consider why it was he was working on a branch-line with such insane engines on it.
...
Daisy went along, quite in her own word, swaggering confidently with great show. As she approached a farm crossing, she tooted her horn and watched with great glee as a horse and cart stopped to let her by. She assumed that this was down to her, and not, surprisingly enough, the farmer's desire to not die a horrible death.
She swaggered on down Castletaled, a section of the line away from Tidmouth and Elsbridge that was pretty overgrown and used only by people, not engines. She didn't care. Her job was to show off to all and sundry what a splendid engine she was.
"Mmmm." she practically purred. "It's so easy. I just have to toot and they all stand back. This is true power." And so her pride swelled to James and Gordon levels, and her sense descended to the average truck's level. This was a fatal combination.
"Poor little Toby!" she sniffed patronizingly. "How sorry I am that he's frightened. I shall call him Toby Doo from now on!"
...
Toby jerked upright.
"Something wrong, Toby?"
"Nothing, Percy, I just felt as though I was insulted quite profusely."
"Damn! How do you know?"
"Trust me, after being in this shark pit of a railway, you get to sensing these things."
...
As Daisy crossed the signalbox, she noticed that there was Inspector Norris talking to the porter. The next station was Toryreck, and as she pulled to a stop, the police man turned to her. "There's a bull on the line. And since I'm apparently not allowed to do anything actually exciting with this job, it's up to you. Please persuade it to get out of the way of the line."
"What do you think we are?!" hissed the driver. "A bull whisperer?"
"I have heard many engines say that Daisy can talk bull for days!"
"Well, I hope you're satisfied with that lame joke."
But Daisy wasn't listening, for she was too excited. "Now I'll show Toby how to manage bulls!"
"How to manage what?" said one hard of hearing porter.
Amid snickering, Daisy left for her appointment with destiny.
Champion is not really a fierce bull. Unless your name is James, but in all fairness to Champion, it is very tempting to let him off the hook on that one because if the great big bloody red berk would stop in front of him, he only had himself to blame. But on this morning, he was cross. A couple of people had tried taking him to market. He hadn't liked that, and after smashing his way through the back of the cart, he ran rampage through a fence, fell ass over teakettle down a slope and landed in one of the nicest fields full of crass he had seen in years. Now for his breakfast, he thought. If bulls could think.
So as Daisy exited the tunnel, Champion was in rather a chipper mood, all things considered. Somewhere off in the day, a lonely saxophonist decided to let out a few warbling notes.
"OOOOOOOH!" tooted Daisy. Well, it says here that it's a toot, but I'm not sure. I know my toots, and that was more of a Oooh. But then again, they pay me to say toot, so I shall say toot. "Go on!" she continued.
This stunning attempt to force the bull to leave was, shockingly, a failure. Champion was busy enjoying his grass, and so had completely ignored Daisy's stunning attempts to get him to move.
"OOOOOOH OOOOOOH!" continued Daisy. This breathtaking display of force was shockingly not enough to move the bull once more. I know, be still beating hearts.
Champion grazed on.
By now, Daisy had been slightly rattled, and by slightly, I mean very. "This is all wrong!" She fumed, and like any great person, she immediately blamed everyone except herself. "How can I look him in the eye if he won't turn around!? Such a arrogant bull! Thinking he can mess with me. ME?!"
And at last, Champion did notice. He frowned. Either the grass had mutated and taken a new form to punish him for his wicked ways of grazing, or this was another bloody train. The bull had many thoughts on British Rail as a whole, complicated for us to understand, but he never held with trains. Not really. He began to move closer to inspect.
"Ooooh, er, um...OOOOOH!" tried Daisy, suddenly remembering the words 'Be Careful What You Wish For' engraved upon her shed wall. "Why isn't he backing away?! That should have worked by now!"
"Go on, Daisy!" said her driver, who was a rather stupid man at times. So stupid that sometimes he appeared to be less of a human and more a sentient lump of plastic with a face painted on "He's harmless." Somewhere, the lone saxophonist was playing matador music to try and make the mood fit a little better.
"Yes!" snapped Daisy, her nerves making her a little snappy. "You know that, I know that, but does HE know that?" She would have attempted to nod in a knowing way had not Champion began to move towards her face. "Look at how big they are!"
"What?" said the driver, who felt like he was in a Carry On movie at the moment.
"His horns! Think, if he came after me and hit me with those great steaming things, how much he'd hurt m-HIM!?" Daisy laughed, on the verge of hysterics. "That poor chap might hurt himself! I would never forgive myself!" Champion sniffed at Daisy. "EURGH! OOOOH!" And that was that. As the lone saxophone player played off into the night, Daisy reversed hard and did no more, leaving Champion rather lonely.
...
Toby was both amused and bemused when he entered Toryreck to find Daisy back so soon. Once the story had been told, that bemusement faded rather quickly to outright amusement. She was currently sulking in the shed, her face on the verge of dropping off from sheer sadness. It was probably mean of him to laugh, but he was going to do it nonetheless. "Bulls run away if you toot them and look them in the eye? Well mercy me, Daisy, you have taught me some things today! Ah well, we live and learn, I suppose. Right-ho! Time for me to continue my winning streak of being one of the few competent engines on this Island and chase him away for you."
"You don't have to sound so smug about it!"
"I kind of do!" And so Toby set off towards the tunnel. As he exited, Champion looked up, in case Daisy had come back. He was surprised to see Toby, especially considering how different he was to the many other engines he had seen. He snorted, and looked down again.
"Easy does it, lad." Toby said, smoothly. He rang his bell and his driver blew his extra whistle he kept for emergencies. Nothing. Toby grinned, and let out a 'hoosh' of steam that got Champion's attention straight away. Toby continued to do this for a good while. And Champion, his appetite sated and this strange wooshing monster unnerving him, trotted off back to the farmer, who by this point was willing to just ram him in a pen instead of bothering to go back to market.
"Well-" said Toby, allowing himself to feel smug "-scared, am I?"
...
Daisy's day had been exhausted. Several trucks had aggressively mooed at her, the engines had given her looks of pity and her passengers seemed to have been hand-selected to drive her up the wall.
As she approached the platform, she saw some little boys on the platform. "Look Daisy!" said one. "I've got some sweets! They're called bulls eyes!"
Daisy had never before wanted to kill a child as much as she had at that very moment. "BAH!" She settled for at last. "Keep your rotten bulls eyes!" And she skulked her way to the shed.
Somewhere, a very pleased with himself saxophonist finished off his last matador riff for the day.
...
Hatt grinned as he began to pack. He had a week to arrange everything and then...off to London! His hands trembled in excitement. He had already decided that the first eight engines would be coming, anymore and he'd have trouble back at home.
He looked at the very special letter on his desk, and smiled to himself.
He couldn't wait.