Disclaimer: I do not own Richard or Dudley. They belong to TheBuriedTruck.

—

Dear Friends

Despite what many people assume, The Fat Controller is a kind man. He prefers steam, but sees the value in all engines, regardless of whether they're diesel or electric.

Nowhere is this more evident than his willingness to give Bear a second chance, while also saving Oliver from scrap. Many engines dream of calling the Island of Sodor their home. But one engine in particular was determined to make it a reality. These stories will tell you what happened.

Sincerely, the Author

—

Barrow-in-Furness, 1968

It was a crisp autumn afternoon as a certain devious shunter moved about the yards. "Why must I be the one to take this train to that steam obsessed fool and his backwards railway?" Diesel didn't particularly care for any of the steam engines on Sodor, but one engine in particular had earned his eternal contempt, a scowl appearing on his face as he recalled the Pannier's mocking grin.

But what happened next, no one knows for certain. Diesel claimed that the points were faulty, while the workers claimed he wasn't paying attention. Whatever the cause, as he traversed the points, there was a sudden lurch, his wheels coming to rest on the ballast. Not long afterwards, a deep-toned whistle echoed around the yard as a grimy 8F came to a stop nearby.

"If this is what you call being revolutionary, consider me unimpressed," he remarked. The 08 let out an annoyed growl in response, but this did little to deter the tender engine. "As much as I'd love to stay and chat, this goods train won't deliver itself. And since you're too busy showing how revolutionary you are, I suppose I'll have to pull it in your place."

With another blast of his whistle, the 8F proceeded to loudly hiss steam from his cylinders and began moving, his deep exhaust echoing like a cannonball. After being coupled to the train, the grimy tender engine gave a final mocking blast of his whistle, Diesel gazing at his vanishing silhouette with barely restrained fury.

After traveling for a while, he was uncoupled from his goods train and slowly moved towards the water tower. As he took on water, the 8F noticed a long green shape approaching Edward's Station, a line of trucks rattling behind.

"Hello there!" BoCo said as he stopped at the platform. The engine scowled and looked away, not reciprocating the friendly greeting. Noticing this, BoCo decided to try a new approach. "Er, I apologize if I accidentally offended you," he started to say before being interrupted.

"Spare me your pleasantries, Metrovick." BoCo blinked, taken aback by his response. "Windows falling out, mediocre engines, accidentally setting a shed roof ablaze. Who in their right mind would want to purchase such a failed engine?"

Once he finished taking on water, he steamed over the points and quickly backed down onto his goods train. With much hissing of steam, the 8F whistled loudly and was soon gone from view, leaving a stunned BoCo behind.

Later that evening, The Fat Controller stood on the station platform as a colossal engine steamed into Tidmouth and was braked to a stop by his driver. The engine's black paint was very shabby indeed, and looked as though it hadn't been cleaned in quite some time. "Good evening," The Fat Controller greeted. "You must be the replacement goods engine, I assume?"

"That is correct, sir. The diesel originally meant to take this train derailed on the points. Wasn't keeping a good look out, but you know how self-importance gets in the way of some engines," he said, winking.

"Indeed I do," The Fat Controller chuckled knowingly. "What is your name?"

"Dudley, sir. A pleasure to traverse your rails."

"Very good, Dudley. Please proceed to the sheds. You'll be in good company with my engines."

"Thank you for your hospitality, sir. I wish you a pleasant evening."

As Dudley stopped on the turntable, his face briefly tensed up when he noticed BoCo resting in one of the berths. But the 8F promptly forgot about BoCo after James called out to him, quickly settling into a berth. With how fast Dudley got on with the other steam engines, one would think he'd been here for years.

"A pity my stay is but a temporary one," Dudley sighed. "You're blessed to have a controller who realizes your value. My days are numbered, over on the Mainland."

A grim inevitability," Gordon said.

"Inevitable my tender! We should change that!" James replied.

"Oh, I could never possibly impose such a thing," insisted Dudley.

"Besides," sighed Henry. "The Fat Controller's already purchased Oliver and… Ah, here's his other new purchase now," he said as a horn echoed in the distance. Not long afterwards, a Hymek diesel backed down next to Dudley.

"Hello, I'm Bear. Lovely to meet you."

"Mutual, I'm sure," Dudley responded, unenthusiastically.

"Will you be staying long or-" but before he could finish asking his question, he was rudely interrupted by Dudley, much to the Hymek's vexation.

"You know, I heard a most fascinating tale recently. Apparently, one of you rescued two failed diesels and their trains."

"Oh, that was me!" Henry exclaimed, beaming with pride as he began telling the story.

"He gave me the cold buffer too," sighed BoCo. "British Rail withdrawing so many steam engines all at once, likely hasn't painted us diesels in the best light."

"Aye," agreed Donald. "Dinnae tak' it tae hert, Bear. Dougie 'n' ah needed time tae come aroond. He'll find ye a guid sort."

"I hope," Bear replied. But he couldn't help but feel hurt.

Early the next morning, Donald steamed past the sheds as he went to shunt the coaches for Henry's morning train. "It was a pleasure to make your acquaintances," Dudley said, feigning sadness as he glanced at Henry, Gordon and James. "If our paths never cross again, I wish you nothing but dry rails and smooth runnings." After blasting his whistle, Dudley went to fetch his return train.

"What a shame," sighed Henry. "I wish there was something we could do." Despite still feeling hurt by Dudley's brusque demeanor, Bear tried to remain optimistic.

"He seems a good sort," the Hymek said, smiling. "Things always work out in the end for honest, hardworking engines." The others said nothing, they only hoped Bear was right. Unbeknownst to the engines, a large black shape was skulking about the yards.

Eyes darting around for any other engines, Dudley soon saw some coaches, waiting at the platform. Then, a wicked grin appeared on his face as an idea flew into his funnel. "Yes, that pesky diesel won't see it coming!" Stealthily traversing the points, he was coupled to the coaches, moving them just enough to where the lead coach was blocking the points. He then wisely slunk away, no one the wiser to his actions. But he had reckoned, without Henry.

A few minutes later, Henry set off for the station to take his train. As the Black 5 reversed into Tidmouth, he noticed a familiar tank engine shunting in the yard. "Hello Mason!" He greeted, whistling to the J50. After glancing in Henry's direction, Mason's eyes widened in alarm and he began whistling frantically. Upon looking back, Henry's driver saw why.

"Glory!" He exclaimed. Instead of waiting at the platform, the coaches were sitting on the points. His driver quickly applied the brakes, but it was too late. Henry's tender collided with the lead coach and derailed, sandwiched in between the damaged coach and the nearby signal box. The angry signalman was telling Henry just what he could do with his tender. Shame-faced, Henry looked down at his buffers as the coaches whimpered meekly.

Having heard the commotion from his office, The Fat Controller went to investigate. Donald also heard the commotion, eyes widening as he noticed what had happened. Mason soon set about clearing away the unhurt coaches while Dudley brought a crane to rerail Henry's tender. "How on earth did this happen?!" The Fat Controller demanded, gazing sternly at Donald.

"Ah cannae say, Sir. Th' coaches wur at th' platform when ah left them."

"Hmm, some defect in the brakes, no doubt." The Fat Controller then strolled up to Henry. "I'm afraid you must go to the Works, Henry. But this does put us in an awkward predicament. Fortunately, your tender wasn't too badly damaged by this, ahem, mishap. So you should be back in service before too long."

Seeing his opportunity, Dudley spoke up. "Excuse me, Sir. But may I be of assistance? I won't exactly be busy if I return to British Rail. Surely my controller could spare me to make up for Henry's absence."

A most excellent idea, Dudley. I shall make the arrangements at once. In the meantime, please take Henry to the Works." Soon, Henry's tender was back on the rails.

"There, there," soothed Dudley. "Soon you'll be as right as rain. So don't you fret, I shall handle your trains with the utmost care." Henry smiled, but Donald frowned at the 8F, perplexed.

"Whit's he still daein' 'ere? He shuid hae left ages ago. Streenge, very streenge," the Caledonian thought to himself. As much as he didn't want to suspect a fellow steam engine, Donald was beginning to have his doubts about Dudley.

Later that afternoon, Dudley was waiting to depart with a goods train when Richard steamed into Tidmouth. "Hello!" Richard greeted. "You must be the new engine James mentioned. Dudley, was it? A pleasure to meet you, my name's Richard."

"Ah, so you're the famous Richard. Pleased to make your acquaintance at last. I must say, you did quite admirably with that train of enthusiasts."

Richard blushed at the sudden praise. "Oh, well, I don't know about famous. I just did what I could to get those enthusiasts home."

Dudley was about to say something, when the guard blew his whistle. "Well, I must be off now. But it was a pleasure talking to you." With that, the 8F soon got underway, a long line of trucks trailing behind.

Richard watched him leave, then crossed over the points and backed down onto a goods train. "I hope Henry will be alright," he said, sounding rather worried about his friend.

"He's fine. From what I heard, he'll be back to work once they mend his tender and check his brakes for any issues," his driver reassured. "Now come on, old boy. These trucks won't deliver themselves."

"Oh. Well that's good to hear." Already, Richard was feeling much more cheerful.

Elsewhere, Dudley had an intense scowl on his face as he steamed through the countryside with his goods train. "That wasn't how it was supposed to go! The Hymek was supposed to crash into those coaches!" He muttered furiously.

But then, his scowl shifted into a vicious smirk. "No matter. That's far from the only idea I have for getting rid of that pesky diesel." His driver and fireman heard this, and looked at each other, both men too unnerved by their engine to say anything.