A/N Gordon tells this one because of my country's title.
Hey, it's me, Gordon. My friends said I should tell about when I fell in a ditch.
I was resting on a siding. As I sometimes did, I thought, It's really tiring to be such a large and splendid engine. One does have to keep up an appearances so.
Peep peep peep peep! "Hello, lazybones", whistled Henry.
"What cheek!" I spluttered. "That Henry is too big for his wheels. Fancy speaking to me like that. Me who has never had an accident.".
Aren't burst safety valves and jammed whistle's accidents?" asked Percy innocently.
"No, indeed. High spirits. Might happen to any engine. But to come off the rails like Henry did. Well, I ask you. Is that right? Is it decent?", I said, proud of not having had a derailment.
Then, it was Henry's turn to take the Express. I watched him getting ready.
"Be careful, Henry. You're not pulling the Flying Kipper now. Mind you keep on the rails today", I said to my green friend.
Henry went off in a huff and I yawned and went to sleep. But not for long.
"Wake up, Gordon", said Driver. "A special train's coming and we're to pull it.".
"Is it coaches or freight cars?", I asked. I preferred coaches to the Troublesome Trucks, being an Express engine.
"Cars", said Driver.
"Cars", I said, repeating him. "Puh!".
My fire was slow to start, so Edward had to push me to the turntable to get me facing the right way.
"I won't go, I won't go!" I grumbled.
"Don't be silly, don't be silly", puffed Eward.
At last, I was on the turntable. The movement had shaken my fire. It was now burning nicely and making steam. I was cross and didn't care what I did. I waited until the table was halfway around.
"I'll show them, I'll show them", I hissed.
I moved forward slowly to jam the table, but couldn't stop myself and slithered into a ditch.
"Oosh", I hissed. "Get me out, get me out!"
"Not a hope", said my driver and fireman. "You're stuck, you silly great engine. Don't you understand that?"
They telephoned Sir Topham Hatt. I was angry because this was unplanned. I later found out what he said.
"So Gordon didn't want to take the special train and ran into a ditch? What's that you say? The special's waiting? Tell Edward to take it please. And Gordon? Leave him where he is. We'll get him out later.".
On the other side of the ditch, some little boys were chattering. I could hear them make fun of me. Maybe they spotted me pulling the Express because they knew my name.
"Oh, doesn't he look silly?", one boy said.
"They'll never get him out", the other one said.
They began to sing. "Silly old Gordon fell in a ditch, fell in a ditch, fell in a ditch, silly old Gordon fell in a ditch, all on a Monday morning."
I lay in the ditch all day. Oh dear, I thought. I shall never get out. I was not happy, but I was quite humiliated.
But that evening, they lifted me and made a rope of sleepers under my wheels to keep me from the mud. Strong ropes were fastened to my back end, and James and Henry pulling hard, managed to bring me to safety. I was pulled out of the ditch and onto the turntable. Late that night, I crawled home, a sadder and wiser engine.
A/N I tried to show Gordon's pride. No flames, as I did what I could, but the emotional characters are easier for me. Like most of the tank engines or Edward.