So, after the somewhat exposition heavy episode previously, this one is pretty much a breather one. Not to say that there's no plot in this (There's a little with Carlin and co) but this is mainly just a comedy episode...and to set up a few hints of the future.
REVIEW TIME.
To the guest: Yep! Great Discovery and Misty Island Rescue are two I'm looking forward to!
MattPrice01: You'll get both, no worry!
Radical-sandwiches: The original plan was to kill him off in the final two episodes, but I figured that setting Boomer up as a threat should be done sooner rather than later, and you'll be hearing from him next chapter.
TrainManiac: Like I said previously, it's not that I think that this episode is necessarily a bad one, it's just one that feels like it's there to pad out the season. The sets are nice, the narration's pretty decent and I have no problem with the music. The ending just sort of feels tacked on, and the runaway scene just sort of stops instead of having an end to it. I am actually considering a career in writing novels, actually, but who knows at this point? And I'll take the comparison is positive? I've never really read or watched Eragon, so I don't know. Yeah, pretty much. I'm actually going to be introducing a few new villains in the second volume, just to mix it up a little. I'm glad you followed okay! Oh, and Roderick isn't Diesel's name. Diesel is just an edgy son of a gun who likes to try and stand out. It fails. Badly.
Game Watch: Pretty much. One of the benefits of getting to Season 6 and onwards is that I get to have Percy doing some really silly stuff, so that gives him a more defined character that way.
AaronCottrel97: Pretty much! And, er, I'm saving my first F-Bomb up. Just to make it mean something more.
Reality Rejection Service: Funnily enough, I didn't realize until after I'd written it that that was what I was referencing! And yes, yes they would indeed! It'd be funny shit, though.
Bronze-Shield: Sorry about the confusions. When the engines have to learn about it in Magic Railroad, I'll try and do it a bit better. And yeah, like I said, this episode isn't bad, it's just...there.
CUE THE THEME.
It was another bloody hot day on the Island which meant that everyone had to work for whatever reason.
"Boyo, this is a sweltering hot one and no mistake!" declared Skarloey, his driver turning on the portable fan, which did jack all in this sweltering weather. "God, if the alternative wasn't spending all day with Duke, I'd be back at the sheds by now!"
"Ah, preach, preach my soul brother!"
"Rheneas, you're not black, or Vanilla Ice, you cannot say these things."
"Try and stop me, you square!"
Sir Handel grunted. "You think you have it bad? Look at me! I've been told that since I haven't signed the contract with my 'birth name', they can't let me be in this season! What idiot thought up that idea, eh?"
"The same idiot who figured out that dubbing over Duke's lines is becoming a bit pricey." remarked Rusty. "Mind, I have my own problems. You know sometimes last season they ended up botching my pronouns!"
"Oh, how terrible for ye!"
"It was, actually, Duncan! Imagine if your accent changed halfway through to Canadian, or something!"
"Er, I don't know what you're talking aboot! That'd never happen, eh! Bret Hart! Clover Leafs! The Mounties always get their man!"
Everyone was doing...some work, it was fair to say, even if because of budget reasons we had to resort to using shots from previous episodes and in some cases, previous season's to show this.
Except for James, who was being his usual cheerful self.
"THIS IS RABB-RUBBISH!" He stopped mid shout and glared at Thomas, willing him to make a joke. The blue tank engine smugly grinned and refused to say anything, allowing the big red nit to continue on with his rant. "Why should a splendid red engine like me take the messy old coal trucks like some common little shunter?! Why don't they get Percy or Oliver, they love getting down and dirty and doing nothing of any real value!"
"Okay, first off, we had this conversation about ten or so episode ago, and that's just on this season. Secondly, this is getting old, have you ever considered thinking about someone or something other than yourself for once?"
"You're saying words, but I can't understand them!"
"You'll be surprised how much better you'll feel!"
"Why the hell are you up on your high horse for, Thomas?! Unselfish and kind aren't exactly the first words I'd apply to you! Pah! Being important is the only thing for a splendid engine like me to think about!" And he puffed away, huffily.
"If I had a penny for every time he said the word 'splendid', I'd be a bloody millionaire." muttered Thomas.
...
"LOOK AT ME! I'M TIGER BLOODY MOTH!"
"We know." droned Oliver and Percy. The former had asked the latter to come down and give him some assistance with the branch-line for a few days, not least because Duck had requested time off for some reason. But, luckily for them, the jobs that had needed to be finished were over and done with. All they had to do at the moment was sit back and watch Tiger Moth flying around, banner attached to his tail, looking like a prat.
"Bloody plane's making a great deal chatter! You ever wonder-" remarked Percy "-that maybe we're all just really deadened to stupid things being said now?"
"What, you mean with constant proximity to Gordon and James and...the others who aren't Gordon and James?"
"Exactly! I mean, when I first started, I'd be tempted to challenge Tiger Moth to a race. But...you kind of give up caring about them after a while, don't you agree?"
"Yes. Being in the scrapyard-"
"OH LOOK HE'S COMING BACK." said Percy, quickly changing the subject. He read the banner out loud. "Visit Harry Topper's fair at Tidmouth Bay." He frowned. "Didn't even realize we had a bay at Tidmouth."
"Huh. More you learn, I guess. Harry Topper, he's that crook, isn't he?"
"He prefers the term 'man of mystery' but yes. Pretty much. Oh look, here comes Thomas! Speaking of stupid things being said now-"
"Oh HARDY HA!" Thomas grimaced. "What are you two doing here?"
"Waiting for death."
Oliver was a bit more forthcoming "The Fat One's sent us to pick up a special load from the docks, but we got halfway there and needed to chill for a bit."
"I think it's got something to do with the fair! I'm doing fortune telling there, and it's only four pounds per engine!"
"FOUR POUNDS?!" shrieked Thomas, Oliver, Annie and Clarabel all together.
...
Meanwhile, James passed by a animatronic Duck and stormed into the quarry yard. "BLOODY THOMAS!" He shouted to no one in particular. "And now I'm working in a goddamn quarry, getting dustier and dustier, in this heatwave! This is a nightmare!"
Then he saw his old friend (Sort of, not really. Apparently that one Christmas party they had with her sister really brought them closer together) sobbing on the corner. This was the one who wore the brown coat, the sister of the one who had warned Thomas of the landslide ahead. "She looks even more miserable than I feel! Which is IMPOSSIBLE, at this moment in time!"
The driver scowled. He hated having to interact with people outside of his fireman/secret lover. "Oh fine! I can't screw this up any more than Alec did." He got off and headed over to check on her. "Oi, you old bag, what's the matter?"
"Well, you're giving Alec a run for his money, at least." remarked the fireman.
Kyndley wailed once more. "My sister is trying to track down my niece, she's rung to tell me that she can't come to stay with me! And I was so looking forward to her visit! WOE IS ME! WOE IS ME."
"Woe is someone, certainly."
...
"THE HELL ARE YOU CALLING ME FOR?!"
"But sir, don't you care?!"
"This is a bloody railway, not a taxi service! Fine! If Harold isn't doing anything, send him to pick her up!" He muttered something under his breath about wondering if the surface to air missiles still worked as the bodyguard headed out to make the arrangements.
Harold took off clumsily, nearly decapitating a frightened cow and just barely avoiding ramming into Percy as he did so. He swayed and staggered around the entire Island for a good long while before touching down uncomfortably close to a car. James coughed and spluttered as the great steaming nit sent dust flying right into his face.
"All present and correct!"
"Is that your catchphrase of the day now, Harold/" dryly muttered James.
"Come on Mrs Kyndley, come onboard and fly the skies with me! Compliments of the Fat Controller!" This was not part of the deal, but Harold was in a bit of a vengeful mood for being messed around with for the past few episodes.
"Oooh, don't mind if I do! How lovely!" And so saying, she walked foward and wedged herself firmly next to the pilot, who looked as though he'd rather be doing mine defusing than sitting next to her.
"HAROLD YOU BERK! LOOK AT ME!"
"I'd rather not, if it's all the same, chap!"
"YOU'VE MADE MY PAINT DUSTIER THAN EVER!" He then had to put on a happy facade for Mrs Kyndley as Harold took off again, very narrowly clearing a bush and a terrified Douglas. Soon, the helicopter was high in the sky, passing over Smelly-by-the-sea and pissing off Donald to no end.
"I've never seen the Island like this before!"
"You, er, don't say." said the pilot, trying to be polite.
"It's wonderful!"
"Mind pulling the gear stick for me?"
"Of course!"
There was a long, pregnant pause.
"Mrs Kyndley, that's not the gear stick."
...
Meanwhile, Percy and Oliver had arrived at the docks, at last. "I knew we should have taken that left turning at Albuquerque!" joked Percy. Oliver ignored him, as he gazed up at the remarkably cheerful Cranky. "OI! You horrible lot down there! I'm playing lucky dip in the tramper's hold-"
"God that sounds wrong." murmured Oliver. Percy sniggered.
"And I come bearing gifts for you! All of these pieces of rubbish are for you lot! Take care that you don't ruin all my hard work, as you inevitably do!" He frowned as the workmen immediately began taking the tarpaulin off. "Wait, shouldn't you do that AT the fairground?!"
"Wooden horses! For the carousel ride!"
"Nothing gets past you, does it Perce?" Oliver sighed.
"It's going to be a very exciting fair! And me with my fortune telling, for just eight pounds!"
"EIGHT POUNDS?!" shrieked Oliver and the rapidly approaching James. "You must be round the twist!"
"Besides-" James said, loftily "-THE FAT CONTROLLER HAS TOLD ME TO STOP PULLING COAL TRUCKS AND GO TO THE STATION INSTEAD! SUMMAT TO DO WITH MRS KYNDLEY! HE ALSO SAID TO TURN DOWN THE VOLUME ON MY VOICE! BYE!" And off he went with no small amount of dramatics.
"Huh. What do you think of that?"
"Percy, I rarely get paid to think!" Oliver grimaced. "Come on, let's get these over to the fair. I want to get there before James breaks all the glass in the place with his uncontrollable volume level."
James arrived at Kirk Ronan with quite a dramatic entrance. The Fat Controller winced as he looked at the budget, before putting on his best fake smile he could. "Ah, Mrs Kyndley! Glad to see you-" He hesitated as he stared at the pilot, vomiting up his lunch "-enjoyed your trip! Now, for the next stage, James is taking you on a mystery ride and I'll meet you at your destination."
"Couldn't you just ride with us?"
"Oh, er, I can't, I have important...marking to do." This was a lie. Hatt just didn't want to be in the same coach as Mrs Kyndley, having received a bill for damages caused by Harold's somewhat erratic flying. As the guard blew his whistle, he headed into the car.
"Hope this works, Mr Topper!"
"Why Hatty, baby, the fair's been in the family for generations! It's always worked!"
...
1950.
Carlin groaned. "Oh my god, I'd have thought that Topper's fair was a bit better in it's heyday. And yet somehow it manages to be worse than I could have ever imagined."
"Why'd you say that?" Benn smirked. "I think it's rather...er...no, no, you're right, it's terrible."
The three kids, who actually seemed to be almost adults now, had headed off on their own. Carlin and Benn shrugged, and headed for a table so as to wait for a bit. Carlin ordered a cola, and was somewhat depressed to find the taste somewhat lacking.
"William."
"Sorry?"
"You...asked about my first name a while back. It's William. Well, it was my first name. I've had so many now."
"Huh. Didn't have you down as a William."
"Didn't have you down for not being George Carlin."
"Fair point." There was a pause. "When I first...woke up, the other Conductors said that our race tended to take on the appearances of the famous. My cousins include Ringo Starr, Alec Baldwin, Micheal Brandon, Pierce Brosnan, John Gielgud, Richard Briers...our family has always been storytellers, so we take the most familiar voices and faces we can so that people will listen to them more." Carlin waved his hand. "It's all futuristic tech, I don't know how it works."
"Oh, I see. So, is that where the Conductors come from? The future?"
"Sort of- OW!" Carlin stared at the ball that had struck his face. "OI! WHO F**KING THREW THAT?!"
"Sorry, Mr Carlin!" Tasha waved. Carlin grumpily got up and headed over to her. She sat there, watching as Burnett and Pete stood and tried to get the ball into one of the buckets. They were failing. Badly.
"So, this is going to last for the next...five years? Maybe?"
Tasha smirked. "Boys? Mind if I have a try?" She stepped up, paid the price, aimed and threw the ball. With a single bounce, it landed squarely in the bucket. She wiped her hair out of the way and grinned. "So, what's your excuse?"
Later on, they headed off towards the dodgem cars. Carlin stood on the outskirts, and watched as Burnett and Tasha climbed into the first car they saw. The two of them were grinning at each other, fondly.
Pete joined Carlin for a moment, staring at the two of them. Carlin was no expert lover, but he knew jealousy when he saw it. Pete gripped the railing tightly, staring at Burnett with something that was not quite hatred, but seemed as though it could turn into it very soon. It was unnerving to see. "So, Pete, how's life going?"
"Oh, you know." His hands tightened a little bit more. "Just great. I have wonderful friends." The sentence seemed to be smothered in bitter, cold venom.
"Look, there's plenty of fish in the sea, so there's no need to go all Ahab on this particular one." Nice metaphor, idiot, Carlin thought glumly.
"I'm going to get some cotton candy." And so saying, Boom stormed off, his fists stilled clenched like vices around...something imaginary. Frowning, Carlin turned back, just in time to see Burnett kiss Tasha full on the lips.
Ah. Things are about to get difficult, he thought.
...
After a long and ambling trip down Mrs Kyndley's favorite coastal route, James arrived at Tidmouth Bay, where most of the other engines were fast asleep, having waited for ages for the Red Blunder to arrive.
"Oooh, you've brought me to the fairground, how lovely."
"Oh come on, Mrs Kyndley, sound a little more enthused! You're giving the opening speech!" Topper gave the comically oversized scissors to her.
"I declare this fairground open, okay, let's go!"
On this somewhat underwhelming speech, the lights came on everywhere. On the stalls, on the carousels, on the restaurant, and while the rest of Sodor wondered where the hell the power had gone, Mrs Kyndley had the first ride on the Carousel.
She also had the first ride on many other things, wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more.
"You were quite right Thomas!" whispered James. Well, whether or not it was a whisper is up for debate. James whispering is after all louder than some people screaming at the top of their lungs. "Making someone happy does cheer you up!"
And then they watched the fair for the next three minutes, before Percy gathered all the engines together and said "I shall cut down my prices to one pound per fortune telling! So, come on then! Who wants to have a go?"
No one did. Until at last, Edward sighed. "Ah well, in for a penny, and so on. Come on Perce, tell me my future!"
Percy grinned. "Thanks mate! All right, complete silence, if you would please! And yes, that includes whispering, James, so you close your mouth right now!" He sat there for a moment, closed his eyes and began chanting omniously in what he claimed was Latin, but was in fact a very thick Northern dialect.
Empires fell, stars died and everyone grew a little bit more dead inside as Percy took his sweet arse time. But at last, he spoke, eyes rolled back in his head. "I SEE...you being a bit of a prat! And...yes, I see a time where you will beat the holy hell out of Gordon!" Edward looked pleased at that. "Also, you shall take control of the Island for two weeks, in which time you shall attempt to conquer the world! Oh, and something about being called Eddie." Edward's eye began to twitch. "Right, next customer!"
There was a pause, and then Toby sidled into place. "Come on then! Can we just skip that bit?"
"No!" And off he went again. A few minutes, that felt like hours, later, Percy declared "You shall discover a great connection to the Gods themselves! You'll also be basically left out of all of our feature length adventures because no one really knows how to handle you!"
"WHAT?!"
"Next! Ah, hiya Mavis. Uh, let's see...yeah, nothing really happens, you basically go on as before!"
"...Yes, I expected as much."
"Gordon! I see...you losing everything! Everything you try at, you lose!" Gordon spluttered in rage. "Race against the Flying Scotsman? You lose! Nearly break a record? You lose! A fight against a diesel with a pirate accent? Guess what happens! Also, you get streamlined and become something called a Internet Meme! So, live with that on your consciousness!"
"YOU LITTLE SH-"
"DO NOT INTERRUPT ME WHILE I'M IN THE SACRED TRANCE!"
One beatdown later, Percy turned to James. He spat out a couple of teeth that had been knocked loose and spoke in a slight slur. "All right, you basically get painted pink for a laugh, and then you turn into a bumblebee!"
"WHAT!?"
"Henry-"
"GO BACK TO ME!"
"Hush James! You are ruining the moment!" Percy concentrated. "Oh, there's an interesting thing about you, Henry! Says here you shall be sick quite a bit in the next decade or so, and that you should really invest in Welsh Coal again!"
And so it went like this for quite a while afterwards. The engines taking the piss out of each other, Percy making wild and outlandish predictions that would never, ever come true ("There shall be a second random Island out in the middle of the ocean, and it shall be populated entirely by terrible stereotypical hillbillies!") and the fun of the fair infecting them all.
And then, one by one, they all left. Percy was the last one to go. The fair was empty, and many of the carnival barkers had also gone home. Alec had gone looking for the fireman, who had been taken out to sea by one of the Norris's.
He sighed, happily, and closed his eyes...
"I'm watching you, little tank engine."
Percy's eyes snapped open and he gasped in terror. He looked around, but there was no sign of Marklin to be seen. Alec was coming up, berating a rather wet fireman furiously.
And as Percy set off, he tried to ignore the sensation that this would be the last relaxing summer's day that they'd have for quite a while.
But he couldn't quite.