Engines of the World Chapter 3: Gator goes far, a thomas the tank engine fanfic

Columbia, late 1950s

Gator is... damn it, we all know who Gator is, so let's get on with it!

Gator was working high up in the Columbian mountainside as usual. He was the last of his siblings to still be working, for local prowess didn't extend to working five 12-cylinder locomotives. To keep the railway open, however, Gator, the engine with the worst repairs had been sent to the Island of Sodor soon after the war.

Now he was the last running, and though some men tried to fix his brothers, he was the only one running.

There were other problems too. On his travels, he'd met an engine named Percy, and helped him overcome his fear of monsters. Now, strangely, he felt obligated to not be scared on bridges or over cliffs for Percy's sake. But he still was very scared, and longed to go back to Sodor or Belgium, where he was tested.

So one day, when he was told to collect some freight cars from Bogota, he easily accepted.

Bogota had a station just as big as Vicarstown, and Gator was eager to pick up his trucks. The yard manager came over.

"Ah, a Steam Motor engine, just what we need. This silly diesel has broken down, and we need a strong and flexible engine to take this train to Lima."

"Lima," thought Gator.

"LIMA?!" he and his driver cried.

"We have to decline, we're here to take supplies up the villagers."

"Actually, we don't have your supplies. Your line is closing."

"That doesn't mean that-"

"You're taking the train to Lima and that's final!"

And Gator chuffed away. "What will happen to the villagers?" he asked his driver.

"I'm sure the supplies will get to them somehow. The only thing we can do is get this train to Lima and back fast."

But the Andes were higher here than on his line. Gator was almost constantly on the edge of a cliff. Then he came to a bridge.

He was in a long, dark tunnel, so he didn't know there was a bridge until he was on it. This bridge made the long viaduct on his line look like a bouncy castle in terms of safety. The bridge was much, much higher than any bridge he'd seen before. And Gator was wider than the bridge was. The rails were almost over the edge. His only consolation was that it was made of stone.

Gator shut his eyes tightly, and didn't open them until he was back in the tunnel.

"Hey!" cried his driver, "what do you think you're doing? We have to get to Lima." And the driver opened Gator's regulator.

They say deep in the jungle there's a tribe that heard Gator's screams of fear and has a festival every year to the god who shouted down at them.

Gator had passed out by the time he got to Lima's station.

"Ah, a Steam Motor engine, just what we need. This silly diesel has broken down, and we need a strong and flexible engine to take this train to Santiago."

"Santiago," thought Gator.

"SANTIAGO?!" he and his driver cried.

"Yes, now attach yourselves to that passenger train, it's already late."

"But-"

"I don't care, get going!"

So they set off for Santiago.

More high hills and new Indian festivals later, they arrived in Santiago.

"Ah, a Steam Motor engine, just what we need. This silly diesel has broken down, and we need a strong and flexible engine to take this train to Valparaiso."

"Valparaiso," thought Gator, "Hey, that's not that bad."

"We need to get home to our line in Columbia," begged his driver.

"Too bad."

I'll bet you can guess what happened at Valparaiso, right?

There were a lot less mountains on the way to Punta Arenas then the earlier parts of the trip, but Gator was still tired and weary when he got there.

"Ah, a Steam Motor engine, just what we need. This silly diesel has broken down, and we need a strong and flexible engine to take this passenger train to Buenos Aires."

"Buenos Aires," thought Gator.

"BUENOS AIRES?!" he and his driver cried.

"Can't you get some better diesels?" moaned Gator, as he chuffed away.

I'll give you one guess at what happened at Buenos Aires.

Wrong! They were allowed to go home! Finally!

They slept at Cordoba for the night, but you can guess what happened when they woke up can't you?

"Ah, a Steam Motor engine, just what we need. This silly diesel has broken down, and we need a strong and flexible engine to take this train to Montevideo."

"Montevideo," thought Gator.

"MONTEVIDEO?!" he and his driver cried.

Now Gator speaks English, Spanish, and French fluently. He curses in all 3 at once.

Kudos to you if you're still reading all this.

"Ah, a Steam Motor engine, just what we need. This silly diesel has broken down, and we need a strong and flexible engine to take this train to Rio de Janeiro."

"Rio," thought Gator.

"RIO?!" he and his driver cried.

Halfway there, on the beautiful coastal track, the driver pointed something out.

"You know, we are getting closer to home."

"In the same way going from Vladivostok to Shanghai is getting 'closer to home'." Gator was, quite understandably, in a bad mood.

"Ah, a Steam Motor engine, just what we-"

"Yes, yes, we're going to Fortaleza."

At Fortaleza, they were told to go to Paramaribo, where they were told to go to Caracas, where they were told to go to Medellin.

The yard manager walked up.

"Excuse me, but if you wouldn't mind, could you take this freight train to a village just south of here?"

"They won't say yes," said his assistant.

"Absolutely!" they cried, and in no time were on their way home.

"They won't say yes, huh?"

Gator and his crew returned home, proud and triumphant and to a wave of cheers from the villagers.

The mayor however, was really pissed at the fact that it took 4 months to get the supplies when the village was right between Medellin and Bogota. Now the supplies are taken by plane daily. And Gator did random things around South America until his boiler expired and he was scrapped.

I killed off my first character! Get used to it!