One morning, Wilbert and Warrior were being readied for service at Norchard depot. The summer season had begun, and the two engines were being used on the two train timetable today. As they waited for their drivers, Pickle suddenly arrived with some news.
"It seems as though Sunny Skies won't be around to monitor the line today!" he said.
"I wonder why?" Warrior asked.
Wilbert laughed. "Don't you remember, Warrior? He's getting married today!"
"Oh, of course!" Warrior smiled. "I'd forgotten, and I'm not quite sure why. Clearly, it wasn't on my Radar for some reason."
"Though he'll need to get a move on to get there in time!" Pickle added. "It's in Parkend, and he lives in Lydney!"
"What's in Parkend?" Warrior asked.
Wilbert rolled his eyes. "You're doing this deliberately, aren't you? The wedding!"
Meanwhile, at his home in Lydney, Sunny Skies readied himself, collecting together the things he needed to take with him to Parkend. Here he was, in the last few hours of his life as a single man. He picked up his top hat and popped it on his head, and made sure his bow tie was straight.
"Good morning, sir," said a fellow railwayman, who was standing outside and there to greet him.
"Hello, Charlie!" Sunny smiled. "Lovely day, isn't it?"
Charlie nodded. "Nervous, sir?"
"Yeah."
"First time? I know I was when I got married."
"No, I've been nervous lots of times." Sunny did ocassionally interpret statements literally, but soon brushed it off. "I'll need to get a move on if I'll be to Parkend in time?"
"Will you travel by train, sir?" Charlie asked.
"No, no. I'll drive there instead. The roads ought to be clear at this time of day."
Sunny hopped into his car, an old Rolls Royce that had belonged to his father, and set off into the Forest of Dean. As he drove along, he soon realised that taking the road might not have been the best of ideas. Up ahead was a giant pothole, so he moved over to avoid it. Unfortunately, a car raced round a tight bend and sped at him.
"What does that idiot think he's doing?" Sunny asked, and braked hard. The car skidded along and fell straight into the pothole with a bang. The other car, however, drove on as if nothing had happened.
Sunny got out and looked at the problem. "Oh dear. The tire's punctured, and there's not enough time to change the tire over! Not to mention I'll look a mess if I do."
Just then, a local woman drove up in her car. It was Mrs Hoofington, a local aristocrat. "Good morning, Sunny," she said. "I see your car has had a bit of a prang."
"That's one way of putting it," Sunny replied. "I'm getting married today, and I need to get to the wedding. You wouldn't mind giving me a lift to Parkend?"
"No problem!" said Mrs Hoofington. "Hop in the passenger seat, and I shall whisk you there!"
Sunny took a seat in her car, and they set off towards Parkend. "So, where's Mr Hoofington?"
"He's at a convention of pie shop salesmen," Mrs Hoofington replied. "As you know, he manages a chain of pie shops in Gloucestershire, and he's conversing with them as to securing new business contracts."
Suddenly, there was a bang and a pop, and the car juddered to a stop in the middle of the street. "Bother!" said Mrs Hoofington. "The engine has overheated!"
Sunny looked worried. "I'll get a breakdown crew for you," he said. "I'll need one to recover my car as well."
Suddenly, there was a loud whistle, and a traction engine rattled to a stop in the street. On the footplate was an older man with red skin and white hair, dressed in a dodgy suit and a flat cap. "Told you those cars are unreliable!" the man said. "Want a proper ride, go with steam!"
"You're not exactly helping, Moody Root!" Mrs Hoofington replied.
"Hey, Sunny, if you need a lift I can give it," Moody Root said.
"Oh! Thanks, that's exceedingly generous," Sunny replied, and he changed transport yet again. The traction engine set off down the road, but something was clearly wrong, as Sunny was suddenly sprayed with engine oil. "Yuck!"
The worst was yet to come. The traction engine began to veer violently all over the road. "Something's snapped!" Moody Root shouted. "Hold on!"
But it was too late. The traction engine crashed through a fence and straight into a muddy pond, into which Sunny fell. "Well, this has been an interesting journey."
Just then, there was a loud whistle, and Wilbert came to a stop with the first train of the day to Parkend. "Hello sir!" he called. "Can we help?"
"Can you get me to Parkend, please?" Sunny asked. "I need to be there pretty urgently."
"Can you assist with firing?" Torque Wrench asked. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but Wilbert's automatic stoker has been playing up."
"Of course," Sunny replied, not caring a jot about his appearance. All that concerned him now was getting to Parkend and being with his beloved. Wilbert rocketed down the line with two crew on his footplate, and the passengers all started leaning out of the window to see what was going on.
"We'll have you there in time, sir!" Wilbert said. "Not far to Parkend now!" The train stormed through Whitecroft, with crowds turned out to cheer Wilbert on his way. Smoke and coal dust flew through the air, but they kept going.
At the end of the line, a battered but happy Sunny Skies staggered off the footplate. "Well, I made it," he said. "And on time too. Let's hope the bride's late."
He dashed for the station exit and headed for the church, where Kerfuffle was already waiting for him. "Hello sir!" she said. "I didn't realise it was fancy dress!"
"Erm, yes," Sunny replied. "I suppose I am not entirely presentable."
Kerfuffle laughed. "Good thing I made a spare set for you. Come on, there's plenty of time to change. Petunia's been held up in traffic, so we may be slightly late starting the service."
As it was, they began 45 seconds late, but otherwise the service went swimmingly. Rather fittingly, given their livelihoods, Sunny Skies and Petunia Petals spent their first day as husband and wife in the Forest of Dean, and at the railway line that they loved so dear. And everybody who called themselves one of the Dean Forest Railway couldn't have been more proud that happy day.