The Island of Sodor is a marvellous place to visit in the summertime. It is sunny, and bright, and airy. Best bit of all, you can get across most of the island by train and other forms of public transport, and the engines are all too happy to showcase the best bits of the island to the people who visit, whether it's the steep rocky crags of Culdee Fell, the lakes and waterfalls of the Skarloey Railway, or the seaside of the Little Western. Unfortunately, there was a bit of a problem.
One morning, both Duck and Oliver were failed with leaking tubes. "Ah'm sorry, Sir Toppham Hatt," Apple Bloom said sadly, "but Ah can't fix this here. They need ta go ta Crovan's Gate ta be fixed."
"And the workload is too much for Stepney and Sweetie Belle to handle on their own," Scootaloo added. "It sucks."
"I can try!" Stepney said. "I can-"
"I appreciate the sentiment," said Sir Toppham Hatt, "but one engine cannot do the work of three. It's simply not possible. However, I do need a way to cover the passenger service whilst Oliver and Duck are away."
"When I lived in East Grinstead, Southern was constantly cancelling the trains and replacing them with buses," Sweetie Belle suggested. "Why not run a rail replacement bus service whilst Oliver and Duck are out of action?"
"Good idea!" said Sir Toppham Hatt. "And I think I know just the bus for the job."
As Oliver and Duck were being towed to Crovan's Gate, Sir Toppham Hatt drove into the countryside, before stopping near a bridge that had been rebuilt with new plaster after a bus had tried to squeeze under it. The bus in question lay in a nearby field. Bulgy looked at him grumpily.
"What do you want?" he asked. "Here to gloat?"
"No, actually," said Sir Toppham Hatt. "We have a problem with one of our engines and will need a rail replacement bus for a few weeks. If you can do this job, I shall see to it that you are preserved and sent to a living museum. How does that sound?"
Bulgy's eyes lit up like Christmas Tree lights. "Yes sir! I won't let you down sir!"
That afternoon, Bulgy was towed to a workshop to be mended, and a few days later was looking good as new, with new paintwork, new upholstery, a fully repaired engine, a new suspension, and several new features like synchromesh gears. But one thing didn't change. Sir Toppham Hatt had asked his old driver, Gilda, if she would drive him again. Gilda had been out of work for a while, and so agreed to it, as the pay was good and it gave her something to do. So, off she and Bulgy went to the yard.
"Hello Bulgy!" called Thomas. "How does it feel to be back in service?"
"It feels excellent," Bulgy replied. "I'm basically a new bus!"
"I'll need to learn the new timetable though," Gilda grumbled. "At least I'm back at the wheel again, so that counts for something."
"You know," Twilight smiled, "Farmer Colwick is currently trying to deliver his produce around the island. I think you may be helping him!"
"A bus? Deliver vegetables?" Bulgy snorted. "What is this, Greendale? I'm a passenger bus. That means I carry passengers, not fruit and vegetables!"
Bulgy rolled along the road, his engine humming and his suspension in better shape than it had been for many years. His paintwork gleamed, and many people turned out to see the sight of an old Routemaster in London Transport livery once again (or the first time on the Island, at least). Bulgy was very happy to be rolling about the roads once more. It beat being a chicken coop, that's for sure.
"Why are you parking me in the old field?" asked Bulgy, very confused indeed as Gilda switched his engine off.
"It's the closest parking spot I could find to our first stop at Haultraugh," Gilda replied. "Have you seen the state of Tidmouth bus depot? It's being rebuilt to it can take more buses, but it won't be ready for a bit. See you in the morning."
That night, Bulgy slept peacefully, despite the late running freight trains running constantly back and forth from Arlesburgh and back, but little did he know that the hens missed their old home. One by one, they hopped aboard, flew up to the luggage racks, and fell asleep in them, dozing off gently in the cool interior of the bus.
Somehow, neither Gilda nor the bus conductor noticed the extra passengers when they set off the next morning. They made their first stop at Haultraugh and picked up the passengers who would normally catch the morning train. Then they drove away into the countryside, the hens sleeping peacefully as they rolled along the winding country lanes.
Then came trouble. Trevor and Grand Pear were going very slowly indeed, as they were towing a hay cart from a local farm to Tidmouth. Bulgy formed up behind them. "Hurry up!" he called. "Priority traffic!"
"I can't go any faster," Trevor replied.
"Try bein' patient and livin' life at a slower pace," Grand Pear replied.
Gilda rolled her eyes. "We're overtaking." She moved the indicator switch up to activate the right hand light, and moved out into the other lane. There was an oncoming post van, who slammed his brakes on to let Bulgy through.
The violent swerving awoke the chickens, who began squawking loudly. The passengers panicked, and a chicken flew at Gilda, causing her to lose control and crash Bulgy into a fence. The radio was switched on, but the resulting noise sounded like somebody had taken all the sounds an old radio was capable of making and blended them together into a 'song'.
"This bus is awful!" shouted a passenger. "Buses should be buses, and not livestock lorries! I shall tell Sir Toppham Hatt about this!"
"Not our fault," Gilda sulked.
Bulgy pulled into Tidmouth bus station, having been cleaned in the meantime, and he was annoyed. "First those stupid hens decide to sleep on my luggage racks, and now the passengers grumble. You can't have it all."
Moments later, Duck and Oliver sped past, having been fully repaired and repainted, and now ready to resume passenger service.
Bertie then stopped in the depot. "You know," he said to Bulgy, "why not try being a vegetable bus? You have gentle rounds, and fruit and vegetables don't complain (unless they are from the Annoying Orange, but we don't mention him here)."
"It beats having people who moan all the time," Gilda nodded.
"A vegetable bus?" Bulgy thought. "Count me in."
And so, Bulgy was repainted green, in the old County livery, and now has a serving hatch from which fruit and vegetables are sold. Sir Toppham Hatt approves of the only vegetable stand on wheels, as it helps local farmers sell their products, and it's one in the eye for the big supermarkets. Bulgy likes fruit and veg. They don't lay eggs, and they never complain.