Hello all! Glad to say that this one was a lot of fun to write! Old Slow Coach sadly isn't going to be showing up outside of this, Happily Ever After and possibly a cameo in the Magic Railroad, as she's sort of a one and done character. They didn't really give her anything to do, so I can't quite work off that. So, I haven't really given her any particular characteristics in this one. Hope you understand that!
Quick note on a couple of the things mentioned here. The stories Lady tells are basically sort of little explanations that might be expanded on at a later time. Likewise, City of Truro's letter contains stuff that I was originally going to try and put into the next chapter (Thomas and the Rumors being a good episode to base around rumors, plus it's going to advance the plot a bit more) but didn't have room to fit in. Hence the rather rushed info dump. By the way, if you think that the 'problems with communications' line is getting old...well, there might be a reason for that.
REVIEW TIME.
Bronze Shield- That it does, Bronze. That it does.
TrainManiac- Aw, I'm glad!
trestonfortson2016- Duly noted! I think it'd work also because it also sets the stage somewhat for things to come. I can't wait to write it. Chances are it'll not be out by Christmas, due to the writing issues. But hopefully you'll enjoy it nonetheless.
Radical sandwiches- Thank you! Poor Henry. I feel so bad for picking on him, yet I still enjoy it. To answer your questions: YES. The Nitrogen Era is...okay, I love these episodes, right, the ones we're doing right now. And think how much I've sort of transformed them into complete parodies of themselves. Now, imagine what I'm going to do to the BAD episodes. Mwahahaha. The Emily stuff is interesting, it's pretty close to an idea I do have.
Reality Rejection Service- Yep. You could pretty much sum up the entire episode as such. Which you have. So, yeah. I don't know what I'm drinking either.
Game-Watch- Go for it! Tell me how it works out for you.
MattPrice01- ...You've just given me an idea. Mwahahaha. Glad you enjoyed! I love writing sarcastic Thomas, he's great fun.
AaronCottrell97- Someone who understands that! And the Kipper is indeed cursed. That's not going to get any sarcastic explanation either, it's just one of those things.
CUE THE THEME.
Thomas, Percy and James were looking at the early morning sky. They were at the Tidmouth Hault sheds, having been drafted over to give assistance on the Little Western for the time being, while Duck headed off on another part of the Island. Of course what no one suspected was that Duck was actually formulating a plan with Jinty and Pug on how to take out the Juggernaut, permanently.
But enough of that.
"Everyone is oh so happier when springtime comes!" said Thomas, reading off of a billboard not far from the shed. "That's why you should try 'MR BUBBLES'S VIAGRA IN A BOTTLE' for when there's not much spring in your step!" He blinked. "Bloody odd place to put an advertisement for that."
"Isn't viagra usually in a bottle?"
"Oh my god, this is a conversation that we are having." groaned Percy, and when he was the sanest one there, this was a clear sign that there were problems. "Besides, it's Summer, isn't it?"
"Well, even so-" James said, quickly changing the subject "-apparently everyone's happier except the Fat Controller! ...He seems to be working us harder than ever, and considering what his usual track record is like for working us hard, that's saying something! I never thought i'd say this, but these coastal runs can go fu-"
"James! Calm down. He just wants everything to be ready for the holidays! That way, he gets to relax and fall asleep and dream of eating cream buns! And then wake up and eat those buns, obviously."
The three glanced to the cottage not far along the beach. It was constructed with the intent of housing a new branch of the Sudrian Firefighting Brigade. Why they were building a house by the coast is a mystery to me, so we'll just move on.
"And anyway, the salty air makes my smokebox all excited!"
"Keep your kinks to yourself, you deviant! The only place to be is the countryside, and that gets me riled up all right! Good day to you!"
"Bye James-"
"I SAID GOOD DAY!"
...
Thomas and Percy stared nervously at what they hoped were the plastic decorations made to look like scrapped engines. Cause if it wasn't, this was about as creepy as asking cows to collect their fallen brethren from the butcher's. They hurried out with their trucks filled with metal as fast as they could. They shunted their trucks into a siding, before spotting an old coach.
"She's got a face." muttered Percy.
"Oh, thanks Percy, I'd never have noticed that.
"You're welcome! She shouldn't be here! Go on, ask her!"
"You ask her! You're the one who keeps taking home strange things!"
"You fibber! I never have!"
"Dare I remind you of the dog situation? That bitch was crazier than the ones down at the strip clubs! How long did it take for us to auction off all those pups in the end? We had to break Douglas's heart, James ended up getting fleas and we almost had to put you down! You bloody ask her, if you want to take her home so much!"
"Fine!" Percy coughed. "Excuse me-" He hesitated and made a wild guess "-marm, but what are you doing here?"
"They call me Old Slow Coach!"
"Why?"
"I don't know, to be frank. Apparently I'm not useful anymore, so they shoved me here and told me to wait." OSC looked around and sighed glumly. "As you can see, the company isn't that great here. Now only the mice ride in me, and let me tell you, mice are horrible passengers indeed!"
"Well, you look a bit dusty, but otherwise you appear to be in perfect shape!"
Percy glared at Thomas. "is now really the time to start flirting with her!? Have thou no shame?"
"No, I thought we'd covered this."
Luckily, before this could get any weirder, the manager arrived. He was in a right to-do. "Come on you horrible lot, I have trucks waiting for you!"
"Excuse me-"
"You're excused."
"-can you tell me about that coach, please?"
"Old Slow Coach?"
"MY NAME IS GLADYS!"
The manager shrugged, for it wasn't his job to care. "She's been here for quite a long time. Don't quite know why, but then again, it's not my job to ask actual questions about the potential murder of sentient life. She'll be broken up when we find the time!"
This callous statement made the two tank engines feel very sorry for OSC. Thomas awkwardly coughed. "We'll try and help you." But of course, he had no bloody idea how. He wondered if they could blame a sudden spur of the moment escape on Edward and Douglas and get away with it.
...
The next day, the three teenagers return. They look pale, and harried, and scared. And despite every cynical bone in his body telling him that he should urge Benn to move them on to their next destination, Carlin can't leave them like this.
So they stay. And they watch as they take great care to repaint Lady, who rewards them by telling them tales. She speaks of flash floods, the kind that could wreck an entire Island, and how the great wizards Meredith and Catweazle solved this problem by creating the various rivers that run through the Island, with names like Hawin Lake, Croka, Russagh, Ooyre, Doorey, Ab and many others like it. She speaks of the Shadowkyn, hideous creations of something she dodges around by calling it only a Malevolent force, that attacked the Island when all came down with a sickness, and how though they were defeated, they lived on in the body of strange painted devils by the name of 'trucks'. She speaks of heroes and villains, light and darkness, black and white and everything betwixt.
That is how Carlin told anyone who would listen to him, much later. But even he could not capture the way that Lady told these things. The warmth, the hushed tone, the genuine excitement at seeing the faces of the youths stare in wonder and shock, the twinkle in her eye as she retold a particularly awe-inspiring battle.
That, Carlin never forgot.
Eventually, it was decided that she was clean enough, and as the paint dried, Benn coughed and pointed to his watch. But Carlin still felt that his work wasn't done. It couldn't be, otherwise where was the portal?
"As men-" Burnett remarked, proudly puffing his chest out "-I believe it is our turn to fetch the coal and water for yon fair maidens!" Boom nodded, as if trying to look cool and failing very badly.
Then both tumbled over a nearby log and fell flat on their faces.
Carlin would have hidden his face in his jacket to laugh himself silly, only he didn't because Tasha burst out cackling hysterically at the sight of the two tripping over themselves to get back up, so he didn't bother. Laughing, the two of them head off to get the coal and water for themselves, leaving a smirking Benn to watch the two rather embarrassed youth struggle to their feet.
At first, they continued to laugh as they walked, but eventually they settled into a nervous, yet rather companionable silence. They gathered some spare coal and water left at the village of Kirk Ronan, and then started back along the long path.
...
Elsewhere, James was merrily chugging through the countryside with nary a care in the world. "THIS IS THE LIFE!" He chortled very loudly as he passed the Flour Mill. He was feeling in a particularly smug mood on this fine day, and was showing it off to all and sundry. The fuel tankers would have normally given him some worry, but he was feeling so confident that he felt as though he could tank a nuclear warhead.
But he was heading for trouble, and for a long therapy session. One of the tankers was leaking. Why no one had caught this is a mystery for the ages, and an entire section of workmen were laid off or transferred to less dangerous jobs on this alone. And then, to make matters worse, it caught fire.
"OH SHIT!" bellowed James. "HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLP!"
His driver decided to blow a slide whistle. It did not help matters.
His fireman, on the other hand, was far more practical, and raced for the nearest telephone box as soon as they uncoupled James. "IT'S FUEL, AND IT'S DANGEROUS!" said he, before hanging up. He had to phone back a moment later as he realized that he had not told the firemen where to find them.
Three minutes later, on an old siding out of the way, James watched in slack-jawed horror as the firefighters did battle with the blazing inferno. He was covered in rather a great deal of gunpowder and was terrified at the thought of a spark lighting him up. Then matters just got a great deal worse as Thomas and Percy puffed around the bend and decided to give their own brand of commentary.
The guard waved them down with the red flag, and remarked to them. "Sparks from his funnel set the tanker alight. Not his fault, of course."
"Well there's a first time for everything!" Thomas said.
"You know, you told us about how the countryside runs got you fired up, but I bet you didn't think it quite so literal."
"PAH!" snorted James. Or rather, he tried to snort like that. Truth be told, he sounded a bit scared. "Come on guys, I nearly died just now. It was the stupid truck's fault, not mine."
The fireman, who appeared to have stolen a church bell and placed it on his head, walked up. "It's safe now. You can proceed onwards! Come on lads! Let's get back to station!"
The two tank engines felt a bit sorry for James, who sat there, miserably, until such time as the destroyed tankers were removed out of the way. Then he left in silence, a clear sign that he was shaken up. For the rest of the day, no one heard a peep out of him.
...
1944
"So, er, what do your parents do?" Carlin felt somewhat embarrassed, but he felt compelled to ask.
"Oh, you know. Bit of this, bit of that. Actually, my dad was considered to be a fighter pilot, you know. But he...he didn't get out of the last war intact. That's what mom says, anyway."
"No one ever does get out of war intact, if you ask me." Carlin was pensive for a moment, then brightened. "What do you think of the Island, then?"
Tasha turned around, and he was dazzled by her smile. "It's beautiful! For all the factories pumping out smog, it's quite wonderful! The River Els is amazing, and that view from Culdee Fell, and the little towns, and the-" She paused, slightly off put.
"It's fine, y'know. If you want to talk, we'll talk. If you don't, we won't."
"...Sorry. Can we just talk about something else?"
"Sure. How'd you meet up with TweedleFonzie and TweedleAyran back there?"
The blank look on her face gave way to understanding, or at least, sort of. "Burnett and Pete? We kind of fell into a friendship, us living in the same house tends to do that. They're good folks, but they don't really have time for kids like us. And Burnett and me look out for Pete whenever the kids decide that he's an easy target. Which they often do. He's over the top, but he means no harm. Sometimes he manages to sneak us up to the cliffs, and we can sit there and watch it all."
"Me and Percy did that a while back. We snuck out at the dead of night, when no one else was really active and the mail train wasn't due, and we just drove for miles. Just miles, seeing all the f**king beauty...all of it. Silly idealist loved it. I don't really care, but seeing him enjoy it...made me care, if that made sense.,,,,he was one of my engines. The finest of the lot. Ah well..."
"...What other engines are there? Where you come from?"
"Oh, there's Henry...bit of a whiner about everything, but a good chap really. And Gordon...bluster and egotism all out in full force, but again, great heart beneath it all. Thomas's a cheeky bastard-"
And they spent the rest of the morning chatting away about the engines of the Island of Sodor, for though Carlin never said as much, he dearly missed them.
...
Duck received this letter on the very same day that James had his accident.
Dear Montague.
So good to hear from you after so long! You can imagine the delight when I received your information, and on the whole, it has been very informative. I am certain that in the next year or so, we shall have a proper breakthrough in the search! I know it has taken far longer than you expected, but never fear, we are drawing nearer.
The death of St Eustace has shaken us here to the very core. Scotsman has gone almost silent, and has retreated back to visit his cousins, including Duke of Boxford, or as he now calls himself, Spencer. I imagine that any sadness he feels will be amplified after having to listen to that prat's annoying voice. As of yet, there is very little information as to how Eustace was ambushed so quickly, and how the Juggernaut managed to get past the Vicarstown Bridge without us knowing about it.
Your request for information has been granted. However, considering the communication difficulties that plague us still, there might be a delay of a few months in the sending of said information. I can provide a little bit of helpful insight, however.
In 1944, myself, Scotsman and Eustace were on our way to give assistance on the Great Western Railway. As luck would have it, we arrived on the Island of Sodor on the twelfth day of May, the date of the bombing attack on the docks at that time. As I recall, that was the day that your friend Edward lost four of his friends to a Nazi splinter group. They were sent, I recall, by the Fuhrer to secure possession of Miss Lady herself. When we arrived, we managed to send several of the Nazi's packing, and we even found out that Davidson the Electric Engine was using his contacts to gather together a great amount of technology not yet tested or ready to be released. We banished him from the Ministry of Defense and would have brought him back for trial, had he not escaped.
Why do I bring this up? Because on that very same day, we found the dead remains of an engine. It was impossible to tell who it was, so much had been done to it, but it has been suggested that it was one of two engines who later went missing under the cover story of being 'sent away'. These two were numbered 98462 and 87546. It is our belief that one of these was a victim of the Juggernaut, a Soviet killer. If you want to start somewhere, there is the best place for it.
Wishing you luck.
City of Truro.
...
It wasn't long before the engines reached the station and stopped to take on water. The two were just discussing which of the Spice Girls they were thinking of flirting with at the next TV awards (For the record, Percy was thinking Sporty Spice, and Thomas was quite curious about Posh Spice), they suddenly heard a commotion.
"What the hell is that?"
"That, Thomas, is a bell."
It was rare that Percy was smarter than Thomas. It was rarer still that Thomas said something so stupid that one might have easily mistaken it for Percy saying the words. Thomas was shamed into silence.
The workmen ran around in panic as their hut began to burn down rather quickly. "We'd better see what we can do!" declared the driver, and off they went. Thomas for whatever reason was grinning as he gazed upon the pyre. He quickly became more seriously when everyone stared at him disapprovingly. The fire truck hurried over as fast as they could. Too fast, for they overshot the mark and crashed into the sea.
"PUGH, PUGH, BARNEY MCGREW, CUTHBERT, DIBBLE, GRUB!"
Everyone stared at Thomas, who once again decided to shut up.
Then there was another problem. "AH SHIT!" bellowed the fire chief. "NO BLOODY WATER! Why do we let this happen! ALL THE TIME! And the sea water will clog our works! OH WHAT A TO-DO! We'll just have to let that building burn!"
"You're bloody shite fireman!" snarled the driver.
Then Thomas had a rare good idea. "Why don't you use the water in our tanks?! We've just refilled them!"
"WHY DON'T WE THINK OF THESE THINGS!? TRULY WE ARE TERRIBLE FIREFIGHTERS! I, CHIEF FIRE OFFICER NORRIS, HAVE FAILED THIS ISLAND!" No time was wasted, and the drivers praised the engines for being so clever. Percy hadn't done anything though, so Thomas felt cheated. The fire was soon out, but the hut was ruined beyond repair.
"We'll need a place to house the men, they can't sleep on the beach!"
"Why not?!"
"Shut up, Harry."
Percy grinned. "How about Old Slow Coach? Or Gladys, or whatever her name was! The workmen can sleep in her!"
"She'll be comfy, too!" agreed Thomas.
"What a good idea, Percy!"
"I'm here too!"
"Shut up, Thomas!"
They phoned the Fat Controller, who agreed at once. "She'll be schpick and schpan by the time ya get her!" He slurred, before collapsing through the desk, having gotten high off of the cream buns.
And she was.
"I can't thank you enough! I've never been so happy in all my life! This is the first time in years I've had men inside me!"
"I...don't even know how to follow that up!"
Everyone agreed there was nothing old or slow about Coach, and she is still really useful indeed! She loves having the workmen inside her- THIS IS FILTH YOU ARE ASKING ME TO READ. FILTH!