Hello all! Good news, Christmas is coming up (And I'm working on a very special Christmas edition of Tales From the Abridgement, so look out for that) and that means that I will hopefully have more time to write chapters. With any luck, I'll have Magic Railroad up maybe by the end of January, early February. Now, let's focus on the episode!
...Which to be brutally honest is probably one of the hardest ones to write thus far. I mean, I like it, don't get me wrong, the scenery is great in it, and the actual time they spend building up the spooks is fun...it just feels like a lot of padding. It's also where I think that the writers of the later seasons got the idea of Toby being a bit of a worry-wort from. There's nothing that wrong with the episode (Honestly, even a average Thomas episode from the Classic Series is often tons better than most kids shows now), it's just that it's sort of run of the mill. Plus, it introduces the character of Bertram who...well, see at the bottom for my feelings on him and what I've done with the character. To compensate for what I feel is a somewhat subpar offering by myself, I've also included three parts of the main storyline in this one. First one deals with Carlin, the second one will hopefully show the engines in 1944 and the third is a mystery! Ooooh.
Review Time!
MattPrice01- Thank you! Very much so, although this episode is a bit of a smaller one when it comes to story. As for Norris...well, we'll just have to see.
AaronCottrell97- I can tell you right now, if I ever bring that Timothy into the story, it shall only be for the purpose of mocking him, like the incredibly well done parody of him by D199. Shed 17 was mentioned because I think it was well made enough and because I figured it would be a nice shout out.
Bronze Shield- Mwahahaha.
Game-Watch- I hope I do not disappoint!
trestonfortson2016- Thanks! But I'm glad it's getting an actual reaction from people. I have something very different planned for Splatter and Dodge, and it might not be what you think.
Reality Rejection Service- Damn straight VHS tapes for the win! Always found it weird that they got toned down so severely after this one episode, which I shall also be explaining.
TrainManiac- Agreed! This really was a unnerving episode, primarily because I loved watching Rusty to the Rescue as a kid, and seeing Stepney in trouble again was a nightmare for my young mind. Glad you liked the reference, who knows...it might even come back again later.
LoneDrifter213- Thank you, I'm glad you appreciate it!
Radical sandwiches- I've already responded back, so I'll just say THANK YOU for the kind words and the lovely praise! I hope I keep on doing good work.
Ninjalinda- Ain't I a stinka!? Ha! Glad you're enjoying it, and yeah, it's very easy to see Arry and Bert doing that sort of thing.
UGX7- Kind words are always appreciated!
UltraGX66: Ha! I didn't think it would be! Regarding Theodore, while I don't have any plans at present, there's no reason why that can't change! Who knows?
CUE THE THEME.
"Britt, what are you doing?"
"Packing, David, what else?"
"...For a holiday?"
"Yep!"
"Which we are going on?"
"Indeed!"
"...Britt?"
"Yeah?"
"Why are you trying to squeeze in a camera? And Asquith? And Angelis? I don't think the bag will fit, first of all, and secondly, don't they have other things to be doing?"
Angelis shrugged "Me career doesn't seem to be going anywhere at the minute. Sure I've got time to be kidnapped off the street by a crazy lady and stuffed into a bag! Why don't you? Maybe you should ask yourself that question?!"
Britt sighed. "Oh come on, David. If we see something while we're holidaying with Sir Topham Hatt that's truly breath-taking, you will lose your mind if you can't get a shot of it! And besides, it's the Island of Sodor! What are the odds that anything, anything at all, will go right?!"
"You make a fair point. ...And why are we bringing Mike and Steve with us again?"
"I dunno. Fun, I guess?"
...
One morning ("COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!" screamed a rooster, who was shot for being too bloody loud on this particular day), the Fat Controller arrived at the ramshackle old shed...and no we're not talking about Toby, ha ha, laugh it up. They had made this shed mostly to shut Toby up about whining over how there needed to be more room at Tidmouth for other engines. Toby had accepted the gift with all the grace of James being told to stop waxing his boiler, i.e. none.
"Come on, Toby, we're going t'seaside! We're all riding in Henrietta!"
"WAAAAAA-" stated...or moaned...or argued...or mumbled...it's hard to tell really, the tram. "It's six in the morning, sir?"
"And we've drank a lot of caffeine! It's going to get CRAAAAAAAZY."
"Ugh. Yes sir."
One long, long journey later, they arrived at the little seaside station of Norramby, not too far from the fishing village of the same name. The Fat Controller, the Lady Hatt, the former Lady Hatt, his grandchildren and Allcroft's crew disembarked.
"Is this it?!" Angelis remarked to no one in particular.
The children didn't seem to care, they rushed onto the beach and immediately began to make a sand castle. Mitton shrugged and headed off to the ice cream van to get them all a treat, while Sir Topham Hatt went into the sea and sank faster than you could snap your fingers.
This left the two Lady Hatt's to awkwardly sit down and look at each other oddly until such time as Hatt managed to recover and drag himself up the beach for a lie down.
"So...er...how's life been?"
"Great. My husband sleeping with another woman, I'm being portrayed as the bad woman in this situation, I'm still not invited to the Christmas dinners-"
"Didn't you threaten to castrate your own son's balls when he took Topham's side?"
"Irrelevant."
"Well this is fun." remarked Britt, glumly. Elsewhere, three members of Greenpeace attempted to pull the Fat Controller back into the water, believing him to be a beached whale that had gone way out of it's normal swimming grounds. And much merriment was had. Mostly by Sybil, who watched with great glee as Topham, the coast guard and the Greenpeace officers got into a massive fight.
Once that was finished, Hatt ambled over to see the castle. He was greatly impressed. "Nice work, kids!"
"Thank you, Grandpa! It would be nice if our parents actually paid attention to us once in a while, instead of constantly throwing us to you to look after!"
Hatt laughed awkwardly. He wondered if Richard and Charlotte were having fun with their adventurous lifestyle, while he basically had to take over as the caretaker for his grandchildren. "You seen one like this, anywhere?" He asked hurriedly, changing the subject.
"Yeah! It's on the Island!" And Stephen pointed to a map.
"That's...North Wales, Stephen. We need to get your geography lessons started back up again."
"On the back."
Hatt turned the map over, and grinned to himself. "Hmmm...I wonder."
"Ha! Come on, children, we shall go off and enjoy a nice quiet and peaceful and utterly relaxing day-"
"Or, alternatively, you can come with your grandfather and I and go on a wild goose chase looking for a castle that may or may not exist!"
Which one do you think the children picked?
Yep. You're smart.
"TOBY!"
"AAAAAARGH! SIR, DON'T CREEP UP ON ME LIKE THAT!"
"We're going exploring! It shall be a great adventure, and it'll get us away from the ex!"
"Do I get a say in this?"
"Shut up Toby."
"Ah. As I expected."
...
"We're lost, aren't we?"
"Of course not, dear!" Hatt stared at the map, then realized that he had it upside down yet again and turned it around. His eyes widened as Toby hit a rather bumpy section of the track and proceeded to jump up and down more times than a Mexican jumping bean. They were now in the wildest part of the Island, where the rails had long since been abandoned. Some would have thought taking his grandchildren on such a path would have been dangerous. Oh how wrong they would have been.
They arrived by a lonely signalbox, where a signalman rushed out waving a shotgun around and had to be talked out of shooting the 'Nazis'.
"Where are you off too?"
"We're trying to find an old castle, er...Norris, I believe? I've met your son, he's...interesting."
"Wow, are you really that bored?"
"Oh yes."
"Yeah, I know of it. Small junction up ahead, you just need to switch the points. I think. Maybe. I'm pretty insane, in case you couldn't tell, so I might be wrong. As I often am."
So when the fireman switched the points, the adventure really began...badly, as it turned out, as Toby promptly came off the rails and had to be shoved back on by the film crew who were recording narration and visuals pretty much on the fly. Things got worse for the poor tram, as he hurried on through bushes and branches, scratching his face and causing him to swear up a storm.
At last they reached a second junction. There were two signs, one that said 'TO THE CASTLE' and another that said 'TO THE MINE'. The Fat Controller got out and examined them. Henrietta breathed a sigh of relief, as the massive weight was therefore removed from her aching chassis, even if just for a time.
"We'll go t'castle first!"
"Do we get a choice in this!?"
"Nnnnnnno!"
"Fair enough".
Toby stopped by an old water tower. And when I say by, I actually mean quite a few feet away from it. The von Hatt family disembarked and looked at an old, rotting castle.
"THERE IT IS!"
"Yesch!" said Hatt, who was now very drunk.
They stared at it for a good three minutes.
"Bored now."
"Yeah. To the MINES!"
...
1944.
"My my." Carlin stared at the very large spread of food laid on for him. "This is truly how you greet a f**king hero, am I right, Benn?"
"If you say so."
"Go ahead!" Lady coughed. A slight bit of dust exited her throat. "You look hungry."
Carlin practically laid waste to the first three plates that he came across. He slowed down a bit when Benn gave him a look, but was cheered by the fact that Boom seemed to be eating just as much.
"So-" said Carlin, once he had finished the food, "-what's the story with Wendy, John and Micheal over here?"
"I've been on my own now for a very long time. Since about...the eighteen hundreds? Maybe? It's been so long...anyway, silly old me ended up getting caught up in the Blitz. Some stupid Germans dropped a bomb next to me. The only reason I'm alive now is because of these three. They dragged me off to this siding, and they've been slowly repairing me ever since."
"It's easy." bragged Pete "A little tinkering here, a little case of rewiring there-"
"And I assume all of that stuff is for cleaning her up?"
"Yes, sir!" Burnett looked as though he was about to salute, which Carlin dearly hoped he wouldn't do, because he might start laughing, and he didn't want to hurt the poor idiot's feelings.
"And what are you three doing on the Island to begin with? You sound American."
An awkward pause followed.
Carlin grimaced and massaged his temples. "Right, the war...sorry. That was stupid of me." He groaned. "So, where are you lot from originally?"
"Shining Time."
Carlin's eyes widened. "Shit! You too?"
"You live there?!"
"Yeah, I do. Or I will. Or I am...it's very complicated." Carlin paused, tried to sort his feelings out and sighed. "Okay, Benn, what's the plan?"
"Plan?"
"Where's the wrong to right? First we had to stop the big evil shadowy thing from killing everyone-"
"The what?!" asked the three kids.
"-then it was God Save Us From the King Godred. What's the problem here? What do we have to do? Assassinate Hitler? Kick Stalin in the balls? Send Mussolini packing?"
"Definitely not any of those. No, this time...this time I have no earthly idea what the hell we're supposed to be doing!" And here, to Carlin's immense surprise, for the first time Benn allowed the calm and composed mask to crack slightly. What was underneath it was hard to describe, but it was very angry indeed.
Lady coughed, discreetely. "Listen, the three of you. I'd get back now. Your guardians will be worried about you."
"But-"
"Come on, Pete." said Tasha, taking him by the shoulder. "They've got 'grown up' business to talk about!"
"See you tomorrow, Miss Lady?"
"Of course!" As they walked away, she turned her attention to the two men. "There's an old shed not far from here. If you wish, you may sleep there for the night. Things shall look better in the morning, but getting a good night's sleep always helps with that."
So they did, little knowing that in the coming days, weeks...even years, what they did now would change the course of history for Sodor forever.
...
A long time ago, back in the olden days, the mines had been worked by the little engines of the Mid Sodor Railway before the changing times had forced a shutdown on a grand scale. The lines were still there, albeit rusty and abandoned. Several large carcasses of engines had been dumped there over the years, including that of a brakevan that looked like Toad, and disturbingly, several engines that looked eerily like Thomas.
"Okay, Topham dear, we've got to talk about taking the kids to a place where they could potentially get tetanus."
"HOW IMPRESSIVE!"
"Yeah, if you like constant reminders of your own mortality." Toby shivered, though he wasn't quite sure why. Maybe it was the rusted remains of his fellow engines, maybe it was the sudden pain once again, or maybe it was just because for summer it was very cold indeed. He wasn't at all sorry when it was time to go. But back at the sheds, the Fat Controller was seeing pound signs prancing around.
"That castle and mine will make me a TON OF MONEY! Also, great stuff for visitors, but mostly MONEY! CASH! MEGABUCKS! ROLLING IN DOUGH! It'll take a lot of hard work, of course, which is why YOU, Toby, shall drag me up there as often as possible!"
"Yes sir." said Toby through gritted teeth.
The plans were soon put into action, as much of the surrounding area of the mine was cut down and removed despite the protests of Henry, who considered it to be pissing on Mother Nature's hard work. One day, Thomas arrived with some trucks. Toby was there, and the two grimly surveyed the area.
"Still can't shake the feeling that this place is haunted." Toby remarked at last. He shuddered, another spasm of pain spreading through his body, which he passed off as a reaction to the cold.
"Sucks to be us then, cause it's our turn to stay on guard tonight!"
"OH FOR THE LOVE OF- Oh, yes, WHY NOT?!"
"Beware of the ghost, Toby!"
"What ghost?!"
"The Old Warrior! Every night he lights his fire and goes a-hunting for fresh victims and firewood! So you're both in one!"
"SHUT YOUR MOUTH, THOMAS!"
"Toot toot, goodbye!" And Thomas hurried off, leaving Toby to wonder why it was that he had such shitty friends to deal with on a regular basis.
...
"Can't believe it!" Eagle spat out his drink and glared at Thistle. "Don't ever change your day job. I'm pretty sure that the vineyards will go out of business if you ever get your grubby little buffers on them!"
"My wine making skills are perfect, thank you very much!"
"What do you do, Thistle?" Biggles sighed as he stared into the glass. "Slosh it around in your boiler every morning?"
"As it happens, yes!"
Edward bade his driver remove the glass, and suddenly looked very pale indeed. "I think I'll keep off the booze for the next few...decades."
"You fools just don't understand the fine vintages I can brew in an instant!"
"Aren't vintages supposed to be high quality? Doesn't that imply that being brewed in an instant does not in fact connotate that such a wine is vintage?"
"Shut up Albert, you wordy bastard."
Gordon's remark got a great deal of merriment from the otherwise somewhat morose engines. Thistle cracked a smile at his cousin's defense, and Alfred waved off the insult with good humor. The engines were all gathered in the shunting yards of Knapford, discussing the days events as the sun began it's slow setting.
"It's never been five years!" Biggles said, at random.
"It's been five years." Henry said, glumly.
"Not to worry, it'll all be over by Christmas!" Thistle said, with grim humor. The chuckles this time were less, and lower, and shorter for that matter. Before the war the group of them had approached the thing with a great sense of adventure and humor. Now...now it was getting exhausting. Bringing the troops back and forth the training grounds and the ships taking them off to die was emotionally draining. The bombs meant that getting a good night of sleep seemed to be a myth. And the constant threat of the jackboot hung over their heads.
This contemplative silence was broken by the rather nasty sound of the last two engines entering the yard. 98462 and 87546 swaggered about, sneering at the others and rudely shoved aside both Biggles and Eagle to get at the bar. However, referring to them by their numbers got really old, so for the purposes of making it easier, they referred to the former as Nine and the latter as Eight. Pay attention.
"Well well well, look at all you slackers! My word, we're in a truly diabolical situation if you're the best we've got to offer!" Eight's smirk could have curdled milk it was so rotten. "You all have the collective usefulness of a tram!"
Everyone winced. In less enlightened times, trams were considered to be sub-par in enginekind.
"I was planning on ordering something. But seeing the pig swill you have on offer here, I think I'll pass." Nine growled. He turned and bared his teeth at Edward and Alfred. "Awww, I didn't realize they let the toddlers out at this time!"
"You shut your mouth, you prat!"
"Oh yeah, Blue Engine? What are you going to do? Hmm? Take me on? Come on then, shortstack!" Nine backed up, ready for a fight, while Eight began to guzzle down water like he was dying of thirst. Edward moved forward to attack, but Alfred blocked the way.
"Now now, this isn't going to solve anything."
"But it'll make me feel a lot better!"
"All right, listen, Fatty's going to be along in a minute. We should get out of here before he catches us."
And thus the meeting ended, as each engine headed off to get the freight or passenger trains that they needed. All save Nine, who stayed at the bar and glowered angrily. Little engines shouldn't talk back to their elders, or so he thought.
He wasn't alone though. With a faint humming noise, a second and far smaller engine drew up to him. The two didn't look or speak to each other for some time, until they were quite sure that they had the yard to themselves.
"Well?"
"There's going to be an attack in a few days time."
"In a few days? Give me something concrete here, Davidson."
"Can't. Not today, anyway. But tomorrow I will definitely know. I advise you to get to the farthest side of the Island, out of the way of the docks. Something nasty is going to happen."
...
Night came.
As it often tended to do.
In the dark, everything looked spooky as all hell. An owl hooted, scaring the living crap out of Toby. "Bloody owl!" he hissed. "Why the hell are there so many of them around!? Don't they have anything better to do that mess about with engines!?"
Suddenly, he heard a ghastly wheezing sound, like someone trying to breath with a massive hole in their chest. "IT'STHEGHOST!"
"What ghost!?"
"THE OLD WARRIOR! HE HAS COME TO HUNT ME DOWN!"
"Don't be so daft! We'll go and investigate! Honestly, trams these days, so bloody scared of their own shadow- WHATTHEHELLWASTHAT!?"
"That's a leaf, mate. Stay here." The fireman strolled off into the darkness. He returned soon, grinning. "The Old Warrior wants to meet you! Says he's never met a tram before!"
"Can't we just wait until morning?! You know, like most people in horror films should!?"
"Ghosts don't work day-shifts." remarked the driver.
"You are in no position to mock him, mate."
So Toby crept forward, bravely. "Well bless my bell and call me Sally!" There was a little old engine on a siding, looking rather baffled and embarrassed as a larger than normal asthma pump was being attended to. For whatever reason, Duke's old shed was also there.
"No ghost, Toby!" declared the insane signalman. "This is Bertram! We call him the Old Warrior because he's so brave, and because he won't shut up."
"Hi."
"Hi."
"...Humans are weird."
"They are that."
Toby and Bertram are now firm friends, and they take visitors to the splendid castle and the...okayish, mines. And if there are any ghosts there, they certainly make the place feel happy.
There's a moral to this story.
I don't know what it is, though.
...
1994.
"Hang about, I found something!?"
Wha-
What ...what was going...
"Bloody hell, it's a generator!"
"More than that, you clot head! Hey, Mr Gotch, you might want to get over here!"
Who is...Gotch? Where are...
Dukey?
He coughed and spluttered and inhaled lungfuls of air as fast as he could. But it felt as though his whole chassis was on fire.
"Holy- Listen, get him on the truck, we're taking him back to HQ as fast as we can!"
That was all he heard before sweet oblivion claimed him once again.
When he woke up the second time, he was able to open his eyes. Not much, admittedly, and it took all his willpower to keep them open as the harsh light hit them, but it was a step in the right direction.
"He's awake."
"Good...how'd you get him out of there without anyone noticing?"
"Telly, as per usual, boss. The idiots over there are too busy getting caught up in all the drama of Drampf and that idiot tank engine going head to head to notice a few things that shouldn't quite be there."
"Fair enough. Though I can't help thinking that we should...no, another time. Can he hear me?"
"Our analysis states that it's entirely possible. We're still not quite sure how the engines hear, without ears."
"Good...Hello there. Can you hear me?"
"...'Yes."
Faint. Faint and weak, and broken. What was wrong with his voice.
"Who are you?"
"Manager...said...make me useful...at last...make it stop."
The man asking the questions turned to his assistant. "What...is he?"
"His name's lost to time. I was able to find a few things out about him. He was the number 2 on the old Mid Sodor Railway, rode roughly, so the board agreed that he was to be removed from the rails and transformed into a generator for the sheds. That was before it was abolished, of course, the Really Useful Punishment. Engines condemned to live forever as part of generators and boilers and donors for the others."
"I'd be disgusted if it wasn't insanely hypocritical of us. On the whole, that's rather brilliant. I suppose that law went out of service around about the time of the purges?"
Why aren't they noticing me? Am I dead?
"Indeed. We found this one in Crock's Scrap Yard. Got away before Edward saw us, but apparently he was one of the many things removed by the dig team from the site of the sheds."
"So sorry, old chap. We've been ignoring you, haven't we? Listen to me, what happened to you was...horrible. Very, very horrible." A lie, of course, but at this point he was willing to listen to anything this man said. "Truth be told, we've been thinking... do you remember Duke?"
Which was when he began to scream. And scream. And scream and scream on and on for what felt like forever, as lights shattered, power surges crackled across buildings and areas, as the men jumped back.
"Right-" said the speaker, once he had calmed down "-clearly you do. And there's no love lost there, clearly. But understand this...he's back on the railway. He's been fixed up and put back into working order. If I were you...I'd be very, very angry. And you are, clearly, from that little incident you just had. But what if I were to tell you that you could get him back for the indignity's he forced upon you?"
A pause. A very, very long pause.
"...Hhhhhhow?" He rasped.
The process was long. Flawed. Painful. At first, it had been intended that he be transferred back into an old tank engine body...but then Davidson's bombing attack on the Other Railway had had happened, and the project was set back by about a year. So they decided to make him in Duke's image.
He hated this body. It was flawed and diseased and a painful reminder of whom he had once known, hated, trusted, been betrayed by. It was heavy and hard to move on his own, so two crew members from this 'Other' Railway were assigned to him to take care of him.
"Now then-" said the man that many called the Director "-how are you feeling today?"
"Rough. When do I get-"
"Tomorrow, good sir. Tomorrow you shall be shipped out to the Island of Sodor once again. We've had to make a few minor changes to the plan, that's all. You'll be hidden away somewhere near one of the old castles. That way, you'll be given quite a bit of publicity. All the engines shall come and see you, and you'll be able to get amongst their ranks quicker."
"Fine. I want to get this over with."
"One last thing. We've been thinking that we may need to give you a change of name."
"...Like what?"
"I was thinking Bertram. The Old Warrior."
And now, here he was. He had a bright brown coat of paint, the run of a line which barely any of the other Narrow Gauge engines ever used, a nice shed to call his very own, and the perfect opportunity to start causing some major chaos.
So the real question that Bertram, or Smudger, or whoever he was now was asking was this.
Now what?
Yep. Bertram and Smudger are the same engine...so why did I do this? Simple. Bertram, as it is, does not say a single word, does not have a personality outside of being thought to be a ghost, and doesn't even have a proper model. It's Smudger's face put onto what appears to be a repainted Duke's body. Give Derek this, at least they gave him a voice and a personality, even if apparently naming him was too much the trouble. So, why not make him Smudger? Way, way back in Bulldog, in the opeing scene, I had Gotch load up an old generator from the Mid Sodor Railway, spotted by Edward. Well, an entire season later, here's the payoff to that. Smudger's reveal was planned for several episodes, including his reveal as the Stunt Double in Passengers and Polish (Nixed because I wanted to have him play a bigger part), and right at the very end of Mind That Bike (Scrapped because it was long enough as it is.) so here he is! Really excited to do that.