Once, a diesel attached to a train
Couldn't be arsed with the bucketing rain.
It went into a tunnel,
Vented fumes from its grills
And wouldn't come out again.

The diesel's name was Bowler. Well, sort of. His real name was D4711. Sometimes D261 when he felt bored. But ever since he visited Sodor and got a bowler hat stuck in his air intake, everyone called him Bowler instead. He hated that. At any rate, his driver argued with him, but he would not move.

"The rain will spoil my lovely green paint and red stripes!" he said.

"Spoil your paint?" spluttered his driver. "That's the worst excuse I've heard in my entire life and I've come up with a lot in my time! Besides, you don't even have red stripes!"

"I don't?" gasped Bowler. "In that case, I won't move till it stops raining and I get red stripes too! And I want my buffers polished! None of that cheap Mr Sheen rubbish, mind! And with a fresh rag! I've already caught enough horrid germs in this rain!"

"Anal thingy," grumbled his driver.

The guard blew his whistle 'til he had no more breath and waved his flag 'til his arms ached. He even threw his flask of tea at him. But Bowler still stayed in the tunnel and blew noxious fumes at him.

"I'm not going to spoil my lovely green paint and (hopefully soon) red stripes for you!" he called as the man keeled over unconscious.

Then, for no reason, along came Sir Wyatt Fronts, the man in charge of all the engines on the Other Railway. He was a grubby man with a cheap grey suit, a balding head, a scruffy mustashe and a mean streak a mile wide. For these reasons, everyone called him 'The Thin Git'.

"We will pull you out!" said the Thin Git, but Bowler only blew noxious fumes at him. "And stop doing that!" snapped the controller, "This is my only suit and you know it!"

The Thin Git ordered all the passengers out of the carriages and made them tie their belts together to form a rope. Everyone pulled except the Thin Git; because, he said greasily, "My doctor has forbidden me to pull." But still Bowler stayed in the tunnel.

Then, they tried pushing from the other end. The Thin Git said, "One, two, five..."

"Three, sir," corrected the porter.

"Oh, whatever! Just PUSH!" he snapped. They did. But he didn't help. "My doctor has forbidden me for push," he said oilily. Of course, his doctor never done such a thing, but he was too busy pushing to claim otherwise. They pushed and pushed and pushed, but still, Bowler stayed in the tunnel.

At last, Diesel came along with a train of explosives. He was going to level a local park and turn it into an office block. The guard waved his red flag and stopped him.

"Let me guess," sneered the shunter, "Bowler again?"

"Fourth time this month!" moaned the guard. "I'd say he's a hydrophobe if I didn't know he was such a fussy b*****d!"

Meanwhile, at the other end of the tunnel, everyone argued with Bowler. "Look, it has stopped raining!" they said.

"Yes, but it will begin again soon," said Bowler, "and what would become of my green paint then? Anyway, you haven't met my other demands, so you can all just take the bus or something foul like that for all I care."

At the rear of the train, Diesel was losing what little patience he had and buffered up to the coaches. Diesel pushed and roared and pushed as hard as ever he could, but still Bowler stayed in the tunnel. Eventually, even the Thin Git gave up.

"We shall take away your rails," he said, "and leave you here for always and always and always! Traffic inconvenience be d**ned!" He turned to Bowler's driver, who was currently on his mobile phone. "How long until the workmen can get here?"

"Hold on," he replied and listened. "About three hours."

"Three hours?" spluttered the Thin Git. "That's what I get for letting them have breaks!"

"Sir!" Diesel called down the tunnel, "I have an idea!"

The Thin Git went down and listened to his plan. Bowler waited defiantly. Soon, he could hear the sound of trucks being unloaded and passengers placing things along the tunnel. Eventually, the Thin Git returned to the front of the train. He had a strange box with a plunger under one arm and a wicked grin on his face.

"You've had your chance, Bowler," he said. "Now, you've got five seconds to get your engine going again or I blow the whole tunnel sky high!" Bowler's eyes popped.

"Y-you wouldn't dare!" he stuttered.

"You do cost quite a bundle to maintain, you know," smirked the controller. "Five...four...three..."

In an instant, Bowler's motor sprang into life with a deafening roar. The passengers cheered and danced in delight. They were so happy, they didn't notice that Bowler and the coaches had run off without them until too late.

"Oh bugger!" snapped the Thin Git and threw the detonator to the ground.

BOOOOM!

Everyone could only stand dumbstruck as stone, grit and earth flew everywhere. As the dust eventually began to settle, the Thin Git marched over to the rubble that was once the tunnel mouth.

"This is coming out of your salary!" he yelled. Diesel and his driver cringed.

 

THE END.