Thomas Billington was a 20 year old man who lived and worked on the Island of Sodor. He was an engine driver for the world famous North Western Railway, which was a railway mostly inhabited by steam engines, although some diesel engines worked there. The engine that Thomas drove was an LB&SCR E2 class tank engine with extended side tanks. It was painted in NWR cerulean blue, with red lining on its tanks and boiler, yellow lining around it's windows, and a number 1 painted on its side tanks in yellow with a red outline. He and all of his friends worked on the railway, and they all drove steam engines. Life on Sodor was really peaceful and happy. But once, this peaceful and magical steam safe haven was once threatened by a psychotic and evil mad man who had a personal vendetta to finish. And that is the story I am going to tell you today.
One bright summers day in the year 1999, Gordon Gresley, who drove the railway's main Express engine, was impatiently waiting for Thomas to bring him his passengers. The young man was late, and Gordon was passing the time by counting how many seconds late he was. "Five... Six... Seven... Eight... Nine... Ten..." At last, Thomas pulled in, his E2 carrying two orange coaches behind it. "Well, well, well!" Thomas said, cheekily. "Practicing your numbers, eh, Gordon? What a good employee you are." Gordon snorted. "For your information, little Thomas, I was counting how many seconds late you were. My passengers can't be kept waiting while you dawdle about all day." Thomas just chuckled. "Tell me," continued Gordon, "what does that sign say?" Thomas leaned out of the cab of his engine and read a large notice that was mounted on the platform.
"The North Western Railway. Really reliable and right on time. Signed, head of the railway, The Fat Controller." "But you weren't on time, Thomas." "And you're being bossy, Gordon." Gordon huffed indignantly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get ready to collect Mr Conductor. He'll be looking after the railway while The Fat Controller is gone." "Hmph! Personally, I don't see why we need a babysitter." Grunted Gordon. "We're perfectly capable of looking after ourselves."
Suddenly, as if on cue, a large Class 42 Warship Diesel Engine with yellow ochre paint, tan stripes on its sides, and a large, brown hydraulic claw on top of its roof zoomed through the station, covering Thomas and Gordon's engines with dust. In the cab of the diesel stood a burly man with a coat the same color as his engines paint. On his right arm was a robotic glove with several buttons on it. "GET OUT OF MY WAY!!!" the man shouted out the window as he passed. "YOU WON'T MAKE THIS A BETTER RAILWAY!!! I WILL!!! BETTER FOR ME!!!" Gordon was horrified! "What was that?!!!" He quivered. Thomas sighed. "That was trouble." He said, solemnly. "Before Edward took The Fat Controller on his holiday, he told me that he had hired three new diesel engine drivers to help us out with the extra workload. That must've been one of them. The Fat Controller said his name is Bruce, but for some reason, he calls himself Diesel 10. And from that entrance, he looks like he'll be trouble." "We- We- Well," stammered Gordon, trying to sound brave, "he seems like trouble. Maybe we do need Mr Conductor here after all. But on time, mind you." Thomas just rolled his eyes.
Meanwhile, far away across the oceans of America, and up and over a giant mountain named "Muffle Mountain," is Shining Time, a contented railroading town hidden deep in the Indian Valley. This is the place that Mr Conductor calls home. Mr Conductor is the guardian of Shining Time Station. He is an 18 inch tall Conductor, who lives in a mural in the lobby. He uses a magical substance called "Gold Dust," which allows him to travel from Shining Time to Sodor in the wink of an eye. It is stored in his whistle, which he blows when he wants to travel. And on this fateful day, Mr Conductor was getting ready to Travel to Sodor to act as the assistant controller while The Fat Controller was on his holiday.
Back on Sodor, Thomas was driving his engine to the Yards of Tidmouth. As he traveled down the line, he couldn't stop thinking about Diesel 10. At Tidmouth Yards, James had just parked his tender engine in a berth at the Sheds. He had just stepped out of the cab when a fly started buzzing around his face, annoying the flamboyant engine driver. "Shoo! Shoo! Buzz off!" He shouted, as Thomas began reversing his engine onto a siding near the sheds. But he was so busy watching James that he didn't notice the buffers until his engine had bumped into them. "Botheration!" He cried. James couldn't help but laugh as Thomas climbed out of the cab.
"You weren't concentrating, Thomas." James snickered. "You're lucky that the buffers were there to stop you." "That's what buffers are for, James." Thomas sighed, annoyed. "To stop our engines from crashing. That's why they're being repaired. Hey, why is your engine in the shed? Shouldn't you be working?" James suddenly looked very sheepish. "I'm, uh, feeling a little blue. Which... isn't so hot when your engine is red." Thomas looked incredulous. "OK, fine!" Relented James. "I was shunting trucks in the yard, and I bumped them against the buffers so hard that the buffers broke and they derailed. So The Fat Controller told me to put my engine in the sheds, then spend a few days thinking of all the ways I can be really useful. And when I have, I can take my engjne out again." Thomas chuckled.
"He's just trying to make this a better railway for us and our steam engines." He said. "The Fat Controller says that the harder we work, the less he'll need diesel drivers to help." "Help you?!!" Cackled a sinister voice. Thomas jumped. He hadn't noticed that Diesel 10 had pulled up next to the sheds in his diesel engine and climbed down from the cab to listen in to their conversation. "You'll always need help!" Diesel 10 continued. "Because steam engines are worn out hunks of metal! And their drivers are cowardly, cranky, and couldn't hurt a fly!" "No, we're not!" James snapped. "Yes, you are!" Snarled Diesel 10. "Aren't!" "ARE!!!" Diesel 10's roar echoed throughout the yard. He cleared his throat, and continued. "Anyway, your worthy Fat Hatt brought me and my engine here to help with your extra workload. But I don't care about doing work. I've come to this pathetic island to find a lost steam engine driver. I'm going to destroy her, then dominate you! And then, your useless tin cans will be nothing but heaps of scrap! Right, Pinchy?" Diesel 10 pressed a button on his robotic arm, and the claw on his diesel's roof sprang to life, snapping at Thomas and James before retreating back to the roof. With that, Diesel 10 let out an evil laugh, got back into his engine, and oiled away, leaving a very confused Thomas and James behind. "What lost engine driver?" James asked. "I don't know." Replied Thomas. "But maybe Mr Conductor will. I need to go fetch him now. Bye, James!" Thomas climbed back into the cab of his E2 and steamed away, leaving James behind with his questions...
TO BE CONTINUED....
