"The manager was indeed as good as his word," Skarloey smiled. "I returned from the works in Whitehaven a few weeks later, complete with a new set of trailing wheels. However, it seems that the workmen were in an especially kind mood, as I was also fitted with some else... a cab!" He paused. "Apparently, a cab was all the rage, and the newest thing for an engine. Very few had one, and it cheered me up greatly."
"It cheered you up too much," Rheneas snorted from nearby. "And those coaches didn't help. 'Oh, look at him, his name is Skarloey, with six wheels and a cab, what a fine thing he is'!"
"If you're not careful," Skarloey sighed, "Mattel will write you out of the series in favour of a female character who has the exact same personality as you, just a far more hideous livery! Did you see the pictures of the Spam Can they did in yellow recently? Horrifying, isn't it?"
Rheneas went pale. "Yellow is a most horrible colour for an engine," he said. "It collects dirt and dust too easily, and makes them look awful. Why, I heard rumours of Duncan being repainted into yellow-"
"Don't give Smoulder ideas!" called Sandbar from across the shed.
"Anyway," Rheneas sighed, "he got too big for his wheels over it."
"That he did," Skarloey said. "You wouldn't mind telling this one, would you?"
And so, Rheneas began...
Crovan's Gate, 1865.
Skarloey would not stop talking about his new wheels and his new cab. It was driving Rheneas and his driver absolutely round the bend (pun not intended).
"You should get up to date and get a cab like me!" Skarloey said, with a grin, as Rockhoof oiled him round.
"No thank you," Rheneas said. "I'm more up to date then you are, and if anything you look like a snail with that ridiculous cab, as if you have a house on your back. Besides, you're not exactly fast."
"Are you suggesting I and Mr Rockhoof are slow?" Skarloey replied.
"You'll find it's 'me and Mr Rockhoof," Rheneas' driver corrected. He was a chap with yellow skin and red hair, complemented with blue eyes. Dressed in a red jacket with a white shirt, brown trousers and black shoes, this man was a Mr Francis Matthews, or Flash Magnus to most people he knew.
"And," Rheneas added, "who was late three times last week?"
"There's no proof that was my fault," Skarloey protested. "Besides, you're a rude stick in the mud!"
Rockhoof sighed. "However do we stay alive with these two always going at it?" he asked. Both engines were ultimately put back to back in order to stop them from arguing with one another. It lasted for several days, and was quite sad when you think about it, two brothers refusing to talk to one another over something so trivial. But that all changed one day.
Skarloey had the morning train one wet, rainy day. It had been raining for days, and Skarloey was annoyed. "Why am I always picked on for rainy days?" he complained.
"You," Rockhoof commented, "have a cab. Rheneas does not. You, therefore, are better suited for the cold weather and heavy rain, as I can stay dry!"
"I'd have thought you'd be used to the rain," Flash snorted. "Doesn't it rain upwards in Scotland?"
"Isn't Lincolnshire permanently flooded?" Rockhoof retorted. Flash was from there, and the fact most of his county was under water was something of a sore spot for him.
Skarloey simply grumbled to himself as Rockhoof moved him off, and Flash warmed Rheneas up for some shunting. A fresh load of slate had arrived the previous day, and it needed moving to the transfer sidings in order to be taken to places far away. This is the train the-
"Hey! That's the wrong story, Mr. Narrator!"
Pinkie, you weren't even alive at the time this story took place!
"That doesn't matter. I SEE EVERYTHING!"
OK... As I was saying, Rheneas was being warmed up for his duties, and an hour had passed. At last, he had the steam pressure to move off and get on his way, when a gravity wagon rolled to a stop just outside the depot with a railway employee in it.
"We need help!" he said to Flash. "There's been a landslip just beyond Cross-ny-Cuirn, and Skarloey ran straight into it. We need help, as I say, and you're the only crew available."
"Come on, Rheneas!" Flash called. "Let's go!"
"I'm sorry Mr Magnus," Rheneas said sadly. "But I cannot, in good faith, help out that young fool. He's too swanky, and called me a stick in the mud. He can stay stuck in the mud himself, if he wants."
"What's gotten into you?" Flash cried. "Does Mr Rockhoof deserve to stay stuck in the mud? Do the quarry workers deserve to stay stuck in the mud? Back in Lincolnshire, I encountered something similar. Some water had sucked in a fellow worker, whom I wasn't close to, but I put it to one side and hauled him out."
Rheneas looked very sad. "That will never do," he said. "We must get Mr Rockhoof and the quarry workers out of the mud, but we'll see about Skarloey."
The pair collected a truck or two, and proceeded up the line to the landslide. The workers had cleaned the bulk of the mess up with shovels and muscle, and Skarloey had been pushed out of the way. He hissed a bit, but nobody paid any attention. Rheneas took the train on, allowing Rockhoof to clean and oil the engine. At the end of the day, Rheneas towed Skarloey back to the shed.
"Sorry for being a bother," Skarloey said to Rheneas. "That was quite the mess."
"Oh, it's quite alright," Rheneas replied. "At least nobody was hurt." He then stopped as Skarloey started to laugh. "What's so funny?"
"You weren't the stick in the mud!" Skarloey laughed. "I was the entire time! Oh, isn't life ironic?"
"Well, there ends the tale," Rheneas finished. "Seeing as the light is fading, we had probably get some sleep."
"Yeah," Yona said, checking her watch. "Rheneas and Skarloey have splendid old day, they shall have splendid birthday!"