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// Percy's Porridge 
// Story: Thomas and Friends: More Tales from Sodor 
// by The Blue EM2 
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The workload on Sodor had increased to truly ridiculous levels, and many of the engines were having a hard time keeping up with the amount of passengers and freight that had to be moved. No sooner had they finished one journey, they were having to prepare to head out for the next. "We get no rest! We get no rest!" they complained.

"Anybody would think we were bone idle, given the amount we seem to have been given," James grumbled, one morning, as he waited for passengers to finish boarding at Knapford.

Rarity sighed. "I know, darling. This workload is simply far too much to keep up with. What we need is another engine?"

"Another engine?" asked Henry. "But we already have so many on this island!"

"I know, but we need another one to relieve us!" James added, as the guard blew his whistle. "Somebody has to be the shiny red engine, and I can't be shiny and red if I'm always covered in muck from working hard!"

Two engines who weren't complaining were Donald and Douglas, the Scottish twins. They quite liked the extra freight, for that matter, and went about their work without complaint or struggle. They even got passenger turns every now and then, as the 812 Class could safely operate at speeds of up to 60 miles an hour. One day, they were rather surprised to see Sir Toppham Hatt's car pull up outside their shed.

"I wonner what this is gonna be aboot?" Donald asked Douglas.

"I dinnae knoow," Douglas replied. "Maybe he wants to give us a special special?"

"I thought we told staff to keep that Miller woman off the shed," Lyra grumbled, as she checked over Donald's working parts. She looked very grubby indeed, which was hardly surprising given the long shifts they worked.

Sir Toppham Hatt strode over to them. "Good morning, you four!" he said, with a smile. "I know that none of you mind hard work-"

"Except Bon-Bon maybe," Lyra joked. Bon-Bon scowled at her in response.

"As I was saying," Sir Toppham Hatt continued. "I know that none of you mind hard work, but you cannot be everywhere at once. One place where help could be used is the branch lines. If I acquired another engine, I could allocate the Ffarquhar Branch freight to it and get a load off your wheels."

Donald and Douglas agreed with that sentiment.

That evening, Sir Toppham Hatt went to his telephone and put in a number, and then waited for the set to pick up. "I hope he still lives there," he said.

"Sunny Skies, how can I help you?" asked a voice.

"Sunny!" said Sir Toppham Hatt. "Hello! How are things in Gloucestershire?"

"They're great, thanks. The Dean Forest is really reliable and also a quite pretty place. Are you going to visit any time soon?"

"I'd like to, but I can't spare the time!" Sir Toppham Hatt replied. "I was wondering if I could hire Wilbert for a period? We're short of an engine and he'd be ideal for the sort of work we need. I don't mean to sound rude, but the Dean Forest is rather short, and I imagine he'd love the chance to stretch his wheels."

"Done and done!" the excitable voice of Sunny Skies replied. "I'll just go tell Torque Wrench. We're having a works party at the moment to celebrate an engine's return to service." There was a brief pause. "Torque Wrench? WE'RE GOING TO SODOR!"

There was another pause. "Oh, yippee."





"We're getting another saddle tank?" asked Percy. "Is he like me, sir?"

"He's bigger and stronger than you are," Sir Toppham Hatt told him. "Besides, you're more than powerful enough to handle your trains. I need him to help out with goods traffic, so you may not even meet him."

"Awww, that's a shame," Pinkie Pie said, as her hair went straight. And the skies began to go grey.

It rained for the next few days. It was a wild and miserable lot, and the engines thought it would never stop raining, the clouds seemingly made of bottomless buckets. Nobody wanted to go out, but passengers and trucks were counting on them, so they had to.

"I'm glad I had porridge this morning!" chirped Pinkie, as she readied Percy for service.

"What's porridge?" asked Percy. He had never heard of this strange substance.

"Well, you make it by boiling oatmeal and water, which produces a thick, gloopy soup. Then you add milk, sugar, and sometimes golden syrup, but I like to add candy and then some more candy, and-"

Toby interrupted her. "Pinkie, you're going to have a heart attack if you're not careful."

"I'm always careful!" Pinkie smiled. "It comes with having a high metabolic rate!"

Percy sighed as they set off for the junction to collect some trucks from the sidings. Some bags were being loaded on the lineside. These bags were then stacked onto the platform, and were supposed to be secured in place. As Percy rolled slowly into the platform, two children (a boy and a girl) suddenly sped onto the platform. Both of these children had yellow skin, green hair, and blue eyes, and both wore matching colours. The boy wore brown shoes, white socks and pants, a white shirt, and a red hoodie. The girl, on the other hand, also wore brown shoes and white socks, but instead of pants wore a white skirt and a red and white striped shirt. She also had a beanie hat nestled in her hair.

"No running!" shouted the porter. But it was too late. One of the children slipped into the other, knocking him over, and sending the first crashing into the sacks. They fell onto the track and burst open with a bang. Oatmeal spilled all over the place, and then was turned into a sticky soup by the rain.

The first child sat up, dazed. "What was that for?" he shouted at the other one, confirming the speaker was a boy.

"What was what for?" said the other, a girl. "You shouldn't have been in my way!"

"It's hard to get out of the way when there's somebody tailgating me!"

"Whatever, Pickle." The girl got up, sodden with rain. "Let's hope there are no trains."

"Err, Barley?" the boy, presumably Pickle, said. "There's a train coming!"

Just then, Percy rolled into the platform. Due to the wet rails, he couldn't stop in time, and porridge splashed everywhere.

Pinkie stepped off the footplate and put some of the porridge on her finger, and then licked it. "Yummy!" she said. "Now you know all about porridge, Percy!"

"Yuck!" said Percy.

"Isn't he dirty, eh?" said the girl, Barley.

"DON'T CALL ME DIRTY PERCY!" Percy snapped.

Just then, there was a deep, booming whistle, and into the station steamed a saddle tank. He was big and painted dark blue, with red lining on his tanks on the sides and front. He had one dome, a large, spacious cab, an unusually squat chimney, and a very large bunker. His nameplates read Wilbert, and he was pulling two MK1 coaches. "Hello!" he called, as he came to a stop. He glanced over. "Ah!" he said. "I see you've met with porridge, Percy. The thing is, according to my driver, you're supposed to eat porridge, not swim in it!"

"It's hardly my fault!" Percy said. "Those two knocked the bags onto the line!"

Wilbert glanced over. "Pickle, Barley, how did you two get here?" he asked, confused. "The last time I saw you two, you were at Parkend!"

"We're staying with our aunt on Sodor for the summer," Pickle explained. "Our real names are Paul and Belinda, but we prefer our nicknames. Who calls a girl Belinda in this day and age?"

"Our mom is one of them," Barley replied.

"Well, try to stay out of trouble," replied Wilbert.

Just then, the carriage window opened, and a man with blue skin and white hair stuck his head out. "Are we nearly there?" he asked.

"Carriage and loco works is at Knapford, next stop down the line," Percy explained.

"Thank you!" the man looked to Wilbert. "Full steam ahead!"

"I can't go yet!" Wilbert replied. "Signal's not clear!"