A/N Donald and Douglas made their debut in the basis of this story. Donald tells it because he's the dominant twin.
Hey, it's me, Donald. When I was sent to Sodor, my brother followed me to avoid scrapping.
We are twins and arrived from Scotland to help Sir Topham Hatt, but only one engine had been expected. We meant well, but did cause confusion. Sir Topham Hatt had given us numbers, I, Donald, 9 and Douglas 10, but he was still planning to send one engine home. There was a brake van in the yard that had taken a dislike to Douglas. Things always went wrong when he had to take it out. His trains were late and he was blamed. He began to worry. I, his twin, was angry.
"You're a muckle nuisance," I said. "It's to leave you behind I'd be wanting." I was telling that spiteful brake van how angry I was with it.
"You can't," said the brake van. "I'm essential." In that day, we were supposed to have brake vans with our trains.
"Och, are you?" I burst out. "You're nothing but a screeching and a noise when it's all said and done. Spite Dougie, would ya? Take that!".
"Oh! Ooh!" cried the van.
"There's more coming should ya misbehave."
The van behaved better after that. Until one day, I had an accident. The rails were slippery. I couldn't stop in time. I wasn't hurt, but Sir Topham Hatt was most annoyed.
"I am disappointed, Donald. I didn't expect such clumsiness from you. I had decided to send Douglas back and keep you.".
"I'm sorry, sir," I said. My brother was the one who would be scrapped if sent back, as he tagged along to Sodor with me to escape being scrapped.
"I should think so, too. You have upset my arrangements. Now, James will have to help with the goods work while you have your tender mended. James won't like that." That was how I found out about James not liking goods.
Sir Topham Hatt was right. James grumbled dreadfully about extra work.
"Anyone would think," said Douglas. "That Donald had had his accident on purpose. I heard tell about an engine and some tar wagons.
"Shut up," said James. "It's not funny!"
He didn't like to be reminded of his own accident. The other engines had told my brother and me about James hitting tar wagons before we came.
"Well, well, well. Surely, James. It wasn't you. You didn't say!".
James didn't say. He slouched sulkily away.
"James is cross," snickered the spiteful brake van. "We'll make him crosser still."
"Hold back," giggled the freight cars to each other. James did his best, but he was exhausted when they reached Edward's station. Luckily, Douglas was there. James told Douglas about the trouble he had with the brake van and my twin told me.
"Help me up the hill, please," panted James. "These freight cars are playing tricks."
"We'll show them," said Douglas.
Slowly, but surely, the snorting engines forced the freight cars up the hill, but James was losing steam.
"I can't do it! I can't do it" That was James running out of steam.
"Leave it to me," shouted Douglas. My brother had more steam than James.
"Go steady. The van's breaking!"
The van was in pieces. No one had been hurt and soon Edward came to clear the mess. Sir Topham Hatt was on board.
"I might have known it would be Douglas," he said.
"Douglas was grand, sir," said Edward. "James had no steam left, but Douglas worked hard enough for three. I heard him from my yard."
"Two would have been enough," said Sir Topham Hatt. "I want to be fair, Douglas, but I don't know. I really don't know." He was still deciding whether he preferred my brother or me. I wanted us to stay together or the remaining would die of a broken heart, engine style. We don't cry, either of us, except when something's dreadfully wrong. And to either of us, the other being scrapped would be wrong enough for crying.
Sir Topham Hatt was making up his mind about which engine to send away, but that's another story.
A/N I'm not British, they are. So, respect my English. I go as British as I can bear, but sometimes I lapse into my English.