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Dirty Work

Written by the Reverend W. Awdry & BNSF1995

Proofread and corrected by Broa Island

Isle of Sodor: 1957

It had been a week since Diesel's arrival on Sodor, and his mishap with the old trucks. During that time, the trucks continued singing songs about him, from continuing to sing "Pop Goes the Diesel", to somehow knowing the song "Yes! We Have No Bananas" by Billy Jones.

Duck was horrified. "Shut the hell up!" he ordered and bumped them about. "I'm sorry our trucks were rude to you, Diesel."

Diesel wouldn't hear any of it. He was still furious. "It's all your fault! You made them laugh at me!"

"Bullshit!" said Henry. He, Gordon, and James were sitting at Tidmouth Sheds with Belle and Preston, the latter of whom had been spot-hired from the Vicarstown Railway Museum to help with the passenger traffic. "Duck would never do that! We may talk about our differences, but we NEVER talk about them to the trucks! That would be dis... dis…" He was trying to find the right words, when Gordon jumped in.

"Disgraceful!"

"Disgusting!" put in James.

"Despicable!" finished Henry.

Belle and Preston didn't hear the exchange. They were too transfixed on giving the stink eye to Diesel, who they didn't trust.

Unfortunately, they had every right to. Diesel hated Duck, and wanted him to be sent away, preferably for scrap. Rather than risk spending 30 days in Rail Gate, he decided to sow discord, weave a web of lies. "Today Duck," he said to himself, "tomorrow the rest of these antiques."

The next day, he spoke to the trucks at Knapford Harbor. "I see you like jokes. You made a good joke about me yesterday. I laughed and laughed! Duck told me a good one about Gordon. I'll whisper it to you."

The trucks listened intently. after he'd finished, Diesel whispered, "Don't tell Gordon I told you…" And he sniggered away.

The trucks were amused and decided to talk so they could take revenge on Duck for bumping them.

Soon, they were calling ALL of the engines horrible names, not just Gordon. Among the names they used were "Blue Puffball" for Thomas, "Old Iron" for Edward, "Green Caterpillar" for Percy, "Garden Shed on Wheels" for Toby, "Big Banana" for Molly, "Half-Pint" for Kate, "Bluecifer" for Belle, "Ugly Duckling" for Neville, "Lazybones" for Dennis, "Little Black Riding Hood" for Ruby, and the n-word for Yang.

Eventually, they found out why. Most of them saw right through it and chose not to do anything. But Gordon, James, and Henry bought it hook, line, and sinker.

"That little shit!" said Gordon.

"Never trust a Westerner!" said Henry.

"RUN HIM OFF THE RAILS, I SAY!" cried James. Gordon and Henry looked at him sternly.

"No, James." said Gordon firmly, "Remember what happened the last time you did that?"

James looked at his buffers sheepishly, remembering the Strike of '35 and how he shoved both Ruby and Thomas off the rails for not conforming to his views that tender engines don't shunt, and tank engines are subservient to tender engines. Ruby still hadn't forgiven him, and he didn't want to be shunted again.

"Listen," said Gordon, "this is what we'll do. He did it to us, we'll do it to him, and see how HE likes it!"

That day was a long one for Duck. With the uptick in goods, trains were getting longer and longer, and the engines were having to double head goods trains. This also meant more shunting work for Duck, who had to marshal both goods AND passenger trains. He badly wanted The Fat Controller to bring in another goods engine.

After some hard shunting, he was looking forward to a rest in the shed. But when he arrived, he found the big engines barring his way. They all let off steam in his face.

"GET LOST!"

"Stop fooling!" said Duck, "I'm tired!"

"You should've moved up, shitface!" hissed James, "Don't you know space is at a premium?"

Gordon and Henry looked at him as if words failed them.

"Moving on from...whatever THAT was" said Gordon, "We're tired, too. Tired of YOU! We like Diesel, and hate you! You tell tales about us to the trucks!"

Duck was speechless! "Did you all take stupid pills this morning?! I did no such thing!"

"You're a damn liar!" spluttered Henry, "Like all Westerners!"

"Oh, you did not just say that! Now let me in!"

"Never!"

"Well, then, I'll just stay here until you change your minds!"

James lost patience. "EITHER YOU LEAVE, OR I'LL SHOVE YOU INTO THE SEA AND LET THE SHARKS HAVE YOU!"

"That sounds like someone who wants to get shunted again!"

"THAT'S IT!" James was about to ram Duck, when The Fat Controller showed up.

"Right, what's all this, then?"

"Duck called me a Galloping Sausage!" spluttered Gordon.

"Rusty Red Scrap Iron!" hissed James.

"I'm Old Square Wheels!" fumed Henry.

The Fat Controller looked at Duck, then the berth next to Gordon's, and saw Diesel sitting there. He began to piece two-and-two together as he turned back to Duck.

"Well, Duck?"

"I only wish, sir, that I had made up those names myself. If the dome fits…"

The Fat Controller coughed, trying to cover up a laugh.

"He made trucks laugh at us!" accused the engines.

The Fat Controller recovered. "Did you, Duck?"

"Certainly not, sir! Why would I do such a thing?!"

"Because you're a lying, cheating, backstabbing Westerner!" spluttered Gordon.

"SILENCE!" snapped The Fat Controller.

Diesel, having heard the whole exchange, decided to play his hand now, and hope Duck would be sent to another shed where he would certainly face scrapping.

"Now, Bruce," said The Fat Controller, "you heard what Duck said."

"I can't understand it, sir. To think Duck of all engines...I'm dreadfully grieved, sir, but know nothing."

"I see…"

Diesel squirmed, fearing he had overplayed his hand, and hoped The Fat Controller didn't.

Except he did, but Sir Charles was weighing his options. If he sided with Duck, the big engines would probably go on strike again, and knew it would lead to another civil war. He had, after all, heard stories of the Strike of '35 from his father. On the other hand, if he sided with the big engines, he could lull Diesel into a false sense of security and wait for him to slip up, then pull a sting operation on him like his father did with Klondike, but he risked alienating Duck, or worse, having Duck snap and turn him into rail-kill.

At last, he made his choice, and put on a false mask of anger.

"Duck!" he 'snapped', "Words cannot describe how furious I am with you!"

"Bu-"

"SHUT UP! Not another word out of you! You will go to Wellsworth until I find a shed on the mainland that will want you! NOW GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!"

"...as you wish sir."

Duck was turned on the turntable, tearing up. As he puffed away, the big engines shouted obscenities at him.

"And if you ever return, we'll kill you!" shouted James.

The Fat Controller said nothing. He walked back to his car, sat behind the wheel, and broke down in tears. When at last he looked up, he saw Diesel smirking with triumph.

"One down, many more to go…" he heard him say, "I'll have this region fully-dieselized in a fortnight!"

The Fat Controller's sadness turned to anger. He was right, and now knew what he had to do:

Get rid of Diesel. And he knew exactly how...