Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends Into the Thigh-Verse

Wilfred the Lawn-Mower

The gardens at each station are important. While not directly affecting the running of the railway, it does help to have them looking pretty. Usually, one of the guards will do it in between trains, but it soon became apparent that they needed help.

One morning, Wilfred puffed into the river station. As he came to a stop, he noticed one of the track gangers, trimming the grass.. Mostly. The lawn-mower she was using looked old and decrepit, leaving bald spots in the earth.
"Loch sakes!" Wilfred ogled! "Whet are ye doin!?"
"Cuttin the grass?" The tall woman replied. "Why? You got a problem?"
"Aye!" Wilfred was appalled! "Yer cuttin the wee lawn like a mental patient!"
"I've never used one of these things, alright!?" Beckett snapped. "Give me time!"
"Aye, sure!" Retorted Wilfred. At last, his signal dropped, and Wilfred puffed away! "I'm a bloody wee engine, and I could still use a lawn mower better than that lassie!"
He huffed.

A few days later, Wilfred puffed back into the river station. He winced at the sight of the bald patches.
"Loch sakes.." He grumbled. "That looks awful! I cannie stay here long!"
Unfortunately, he didn't get his wish. As he waited for his signal, there was a distress call up the line.
"Marsh has broken down with a goods train." Explained the station master. "You'll have to shunt your trucks away, and collect his."
Wilfred was furious!
"Ahh well." Smiled his driver. "Nothing we can do about it."
Wilfred had rather wished there was. He slowly backed his trucks into the siding. The sight of the lawn suddenly popped into his vision!
"YUCK!" Wilfred scoffed! And, before his driver could check him, Wilfred serged backwards!
"STOP!" Yelped the guard, leaping from the brake van! Wilfred's crew threw on the brakes! Wilfred didn't even have time to shut his eyes! The last few trucks burst through the buffers! Ploughing right into the dirt!
"Oh dear." Wilfred whimpered. "That isn'e ged."

Marytin brought the breakdown train, and Donald arrived to collect the trucks.
"This won't do at all." The Fat Controller shook his head. "Broken buffers and a ruined lawn.."
"Ruined lawn ya say?" Beckett perked up. Wilfred's heart sank.
"Well. That's unfortunate." Donald's driver smiled.
"And you said I was a mental patient!" Beckett howled! Wilfred didn't reply.

Wilfred was teased for several days, he never dared reply though. They never mended the grass either, almost as a reminder. Now, whenever Wilfred passes through the river station, he's always reminded that he makes a shit lawn mower.