//------------------------------//
// The Singing Brakevan 
// Story: Thomas and Friends: Tales from the Mainland Volume 1 
// by The Blue EM2 
//------------------------------//

It was late one evening, and Hitch was completing some last checks in the yard. As Porter was finishing processing the trucks, he noticed the trucks in that formation being unusually well behaved.

"Some new trick, Porter?" he asked.

"Sea shanties usually did the trick," Porter smiled. "But this brake van has really helped by adding an extra voice!"

Once the train was stopped, Hitch uncoupled the brake van and Porter from the train, and parked them on a nearby siding. "Thanks for coming to Falmouth!"

"I live here, you muppet," Porter replied as he backed off.

"I see Porter told you about the singing?" said a voice, which Hitch figured out by process of elimination to be coming from the brake van.

"Yeah. Are you Scottish by any chance?"

The brake van laughed. "You're one of only a handful to get my nationality right. Angus. I was allocated to Kyle of Lochalsh for many years, which is where I get my accent from."

"That's something we have in common," Hitch smiled. "Many people think I'm Canadian."

"I'll enjoy my night in this town," Angus replied. "Then I'm on my way back north, I reckon."

"We're a friendly bunch," Hitch said. "Bellerophon will look after you for the night shift."

"I'll do my old friendliness test," Angus said, noticing a crowd had gathered overlooking the yard. So he began to sing.

"Oh, we'd be alright if the wind was in our sails
We'd be alright if the wind was in our sails
We'd be alright if the wind was in our sails
And we'll all hang on behind..."

The trucks seemingly recognised this one, and joined in for the chorus.

"And we'll ro-o-oll the old chariot along!
We'll ro-o-oll the old chariot along!
We'll ro-o-oll the old chariot along!
And we'll all hang on behind!

Hitch stood in amazement at the incredible sound of one brake van calling and hundreds of trucks responding in perfect, four part harmony. "These work songs seem to a good job of keeping the trucks in line. Well, see you later!"





The next morning, Hitch arrived with his clipboard to discover Izzy looking at the instructions in confusion. "Hey Izz! How are things?"

"I'm trying to locate the trucks we need for an outgoing train, but the numbers don't align. The brake van is a particular problem."

"Have you tried using the automatic wagon searching system?"

"Yeah, but a vehicle of that number wasn't in the list."

Hitch rolled his eyes. "Probably just a technical glitch. I'll go into the yard and find it for you. After all, brake vans are parked on one siding for ease of access."

He strolled into the yard, and his jaw dropped when he saw the siding. The siding, which should have had three brake vans, only had two.

"The brake van has gone missing! And somebody took it!"

Hitch began sprinting the other way, grabbing a megaphone and heading to the shed. As he ran, he began shouting through it.

"SUNNY! PIPP! ZIPP! REPORT TO THE ENGINE SHED AT ONCE! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! I REPEAT, THIS IS NOT A DRILL!"

"We're right here," Zipp said, motioning in his direction. "You don't need to run around yelling with thing in our faces."

"This is urgent! One of our brake vans is missing!"

"Misty probably forgot to check it into the system last night," Sunny said. "Have you checked the yard?"

"Yes! And it's not there!"

"How odd," Zipp said. "First the lantern, and now a brake van. Both went missing overnight, and both vanished when Misty was working the night shift. Who would want to steal a brake van?"

"A goods engine?" Izzy suggested.

"Why would an engine steal a brake van?" Pipp asked.

"Maybe he had a long overnight run and didn't want to wait until morning!"

"Presuming gender, are we?" Zipp replied. "There are female goods engines, you know."

"All that matters is that we find that brake van!" Hitch said. "I need all of you to split up and look around!"





A few hours later, Zipp was scanning the viscinity with her spy gear, and followed a trail of oil. "Hmm, this looks like lubricating oil." She followed it along, and then stopped at Charles. "Oh, sorry."

"They had to bleed the tank last night in order to do routine maintenance," Charles replied. "It'd be more efficient, not to mention faster, to use me to find this brake van."

Zipp plugged in a refuelling pipe and began refilling Charles' fuel tank.

Meanwhile, Sunny was rollerblading about town, handing out flyers with important information on them. "Hi!" she said to a crowd. "Have you seen this brake van? He's an LMS 20 ton brake van, with brown paint and IZZY! I CAN BARELY HEAR MYSELF THINK!"

Izzy, for reference, had taken to the controls of Porter and was rolling up and down, blasting bagpipe music from a pair of bagpipes she was playing. And somehow playing percussion at the same time.

"How is she even doing that?" asked a bystander.

"I HAVE NO IDEA!" Porter shouted.

"Get out of my way!" Charles shouted. "You're blocking the exit to the shed!"

"Great, two big noisy things!" Porter complained.

Pipp had settled on an alternate approach; social media. "Alright, Pippsqueaks!" she said. "All I need you to do is post this post all at the same time. This should mean that we get all the hits at once and get the message out! Send it on as many social media apps as you can!"

Her assembled followers nodded. "Pipp Pipp Hooray!" called one.

"And... now!" Pipp pushed the post button, as did many other accounts.

Nothing happened.

"Why aren't we getting any traction?" Pipp asked, who scrolled through her TikTok feed. She was immediately inundated with noisy bagpipe playing and an argument between Charles and Porter.

"Something's drawing views away from the post," said one user.

"I can only hope Hitch is having more luck," Pipp sighed. "Knowing him he's calm and methodical."





"Listen up men!" Hitch called. "We have a missing brake van on our books, and we need to find it. I want each and every one of you to comb the town. Leave no stone unturned, no clue not followed. If you can do this, we'll have a truly great victory. Think of the greatest military campaigns! Trafalgar! Waterloo! El Alamein! Thermopylae!"

"I thought they all died to a man at Thermopylae," said a voice.

"OK, that was a bad example," Hitch admitted. "But the point stands. Get to it! I want that brake van found yesterday! SECTION DISMISSED!"

As large numbers of people in uniform turned out onto the streets, Hitch went into his headquarters for the operation. He answered his campaign phone. "This is Hotel Actual to Sierra Charlie, how copy, over?"

"This isn't working!" Sunny yelled, trying to be heard over shouting and megaphones and the blaring of bagpipes. "We keep getting in each other's way!"

"Thanks for update, Sierra Charlie. Keep me posted. Out." Hitch lowered the phone down, and his face darkened. "Normal methods have failed, so it's time to bring out the Big Guns." He pushed a button on his desk, and picked up the phone again. "To all units; Operation Downfall is in effect. I repeat; Operation Downfall is in effect."





Misty smiled to herself as she watched the chaos unfolding on her phone. "The plan worked!" she said to herself. "Opaline will be so pleased when she learns about this. Now just to get into the lighthouse and get that lantern."

She walked up and knocked on the door.

"Just a minute!" called a voice.

Misty waited a minute before the door opened. On the other side was Goldie. "Good afternoon, Misty," she said. "How can I help you?"

"Sunny asked me if I could pick up something for her," Misty replied. This was, of course, a lie. "I think it was some cough sweets?"

Goldie frowned. "Odd she didn't just phone home to tell me. But I'll find some for her." And she went into the house. 

Misty saw this as her chance, so she dashed up the stairs without making a sound and took the route into the first room on the left. The lantern was sitting on the nightstand, so she swiped it and sprinted back down, again without being heard.

Goldie then emerged with a box. "Misty? Here's the ones she... oh. Where did she go?"





Misty dodged into an alley as she saw Sunny and her friends walking along. She couldn't afford to be seen.

"Any luck?" Hitch asked.

"No," Zipp replied. "No brake van."

"But," Izzy said, "I did find an old carriage that might be useful."

Pipp nodded. "At least the new song I recorded is gaining traction." She flipped it to another portion of the display.

"It disappeared just like that, and it's nowhere to be found/
Lift that rock, sweep that side, and ask around/
We need the who, what, or why, then there's nowhere left to hide/
Oh, no, no, there's nowhere left to hide!"

("Oh, oh, where'd it go?")

("Oh, oh, where'd it go?")

My friends and I are on the case

"Here we go, here we go!
We're not gonna stop 'til we find what we're missin'/
Where'd it go? Where'd it go?
A perfect case for a private eye!

"I'm searching far and wide/
So here we go, here we go!
We're not gonna stop 'til we find what we're missin'!"

"That's enough of that," Zipp said. "Who are the girls on backing vocals?"

"Some of my fans," Pipp replied. "That's just the YouTube shorts version. The full thing is quite good, in my opinion."

As they walked away, Misty ducked out of the alley- and immediately walked into a pile of boxes. Fish fingers rained down on her as she got back up. "Still got my old clumsiness."





Back in the town square, Izzy had gone back to playing bagpipes loudly.

"CAN YOU MAKE A LITTLE LESS NOISE, PLEASE?" Pipp shouted. "I CAN'T HEAR MYSELF THINK!"

"Sorry, what?" Izzy said. "I can't hear you. These bagpipes are too loud!"

Meanwhile, Charles was trying to shunt a high load. The winds buffeted the wagon back and forth, and it was on the verge of tipping over. "Ray, a bit of help please!"

Unfortunately, his fellow engine wasn't much help. "This is the most fun I've had in ages!" Ray replied, inbetween bouts of laughter. "This is utterly hilarious!"

Charles continued to try and negotiate the leaning tower of Falmouth as people ran about in confusion in the town.

Sunny had eventually had enough. She grabbed a megaphone and yelled over it. "STOP FIGHTING!"

That got everybody's attention. "Look, guys, with our different approaches we've been treading on each other's feet the entire day. This isn't helping us find the missing brake van. If anything it's making it harder."

Suddenly, a figure appeared out of literally nowhere. It was a person dressed in what looked like some form of futuristic armour. "The thief will rue the day he crossed me," they said.

"Hitch?" Izzy asked. "Is that you?"

The figure removed the face mask, revealing them to indeed be Hitch. "When old method fail, it's time to bring out the big guns. I have the CCF combing the town, and with this new stealth technology the thief will not be able to stop me." He vanished once more into thin air and went on his way.

"Now I see what you mean by this being counterproductive," Pipp said.

Izzy sighed. "It's a good thing my hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia is in effect today, or else I might be characterised by a predilection to engage in the manifestation of prolix exposition through a buzzword disposition form of communication  notwithstanding the availability of more comprehensible, punctiliously applicable, diminutive alternatives, thereby rendering me excessive in my application of Sesquipedalian Loquaciousness."

There was a moment's silence. "In English, please."

"Those were all English words," Izzy replied.

"The first thing we need to do is reign Hitch in, wherever he's gone," Sunny said, trying to get back on topic. "Let's go!"





It wasn't long before she ran into him- literally. In the middle of the street, she crashed into nothing and flew through the air before crashing into the floor.

"Oww," she groaned. "So glad I brought rollerblades today."

Hitch de-stealthed. "You're interfering with military operations, civilian!" he barked. "Clear the area and let the professionals handle this."

"By scaring everybody?" Sunny said. "You can't solve every problem by throwing boots at it."

"I'm not throwing boots at anybody, as the boots are attached to feet," Hitch replied. "I could try that, though. Worth a try."

"All this commotion and noise is making finding the brake van harder," Sunny countered. "Is there anything we might be missing in our search?"

Hitch thought for a moment. "He was a good singer."

"See?" Sunny said. "We already have a lead."





As the sky began to shift from blue to orange, the crew had assembled in the town square with microphones and bagpipes.

"Are you sure this will work?" Sunny asked.

"Scottish things are always attracted by Scottish music," Pipp said. "Ready, Izzy?"

"I certainly am," Izzy smiled, and began playing a tune.

"Auld Lang Syne?" Hitch replied. "That might work. Now, come on everybody! Sing!"

Four voices joined in unison to produce a truly marvellous sound. Moments later, Hitch called a halt. "There's his voice! It's coming from the mine entrance near the lighthouse! Izzy, Porter, go and dig him out!"

"Aye aye, Captain!" Izzy replied, and sprinted away.

"I'm a Sergeant."

A few minutes later, Porter returned with both a brake van and a carriage in tow.

"Where'd you find the carriage?" Zipp asked.

"Oh, it was on a siding," Izzy replied.

"Imagine finding one of those out here," Porter said. "Last place I'd expect to find a MK1 of this design."

"Yeah," Pipp said. "Where are the doors?"

"Several were replaced with roller shutters to make loading parcels easier," Porter explained.

"And I think it would make an excellent support coach for Rebecca, or any big engine really," Izzy explained.

"Let's cross that bridge when we come to it, OK?" Sunny said.

Angus was most happy to be safe. "Thanks for rescuing me," he said. "I was beginning to think I would never be found."

"All in a day's work," Hitch replied. "Did you see the engine who moved you?"

"No, I was asleep," Angus replied. "One moment I was here, the next I was in that quarry. I wonder where that engine could be now?"

Suddenly, something flew out of the air. Some sort of signal mortar, a glowing shell, flew through the air and crashed through the shed roof.

"Oh no," Hitch said. "I forgot to cancel Operation Downfall.

Before long, the tranquility of the early afternoon was interrupted by an engine. "JUST LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO THE SHED, MAN!"





Misty parked Bellerophon in a siding and chucked his fire out to ensure he didn't overheat whilst she was away. She grabbed the lantern and sprinted for a waiting train, clambering into the coach and through the door.

"I've got the lantern!" she said, to the figures in the room.

"It took you long enough to get here," Opaline said. "Did you get lost on the way here?"

"And do you have the sample?" Boomer asked, extending his hand.

"Yes, I do," Misty replied, handing over the lantern. "It's in here. I also have a second sample in my bag and-"

Opaline waved a hand as a signal for Misty to stop talking. "Prisbeam magic," she said. "I haven't seen this stuff in decades." She popped open the lantern and inhaled a small amount.

Her body suddenly glowed with a purple energy, and a pair of translucent purple wings flared into being behind her. "YES! I haven't felt such power since Derby!"

She laughed maniacally. "At long last, I can finish what I began all those years ago! I can take my revenge on the Reverend, and bring all of Britain under my control, as it is meant to be! The world will shake in fear when I take my rightful place as Queen of Great Britain! They will fear their ruling class, as they are meant to!"

She turned to Misty, an evil smile on her face. "Thank you, for making my victory possible," she said. "But alas this is where your journey ends. Boomer! Dispose of her."

"What?" Misty said, as Boomer advanced. "No! I can still help you!"

"You foolish, stupid child," Opaline smiled. "Did you ever think I would reward a pathetic little grub such as you? The detritus of humanity? A girl so monumentally useless your own mother didn't even want you? No. The world will be a better place with you gone."

Misty continued to protest as Boomer grabbed her and opened the door. "No! Please, show mercy! Think of all I've done for you!"

"Impede my operation through your incompetence?" Opaline replied. "No. The world is better off forgetting you exist."

Boomer hurled her out of the carriage as the train continued to gather speed. "Few could survive a fall from a train doing forty miles an hour," he said confidently. "And even if she does survive that, another train will probably finish her off."





Misty fell from the train and smashed into the ground, bouncing along as she came to a stop in the undergrowth next to the track. She groaned as she tried to get up, but a searing pain cut through her leg as she tried. It was probably broken.

Her breathing was ragged and every part of her burned in pain. She turned her head back towards Falmouth, and tried to drag herself in the direction of help. "H- help," she wheezed, unable to make much more noise.

And the world around her gradually turned to black as she lost consciousness. In the confusion, she didn't notice the smashed bottle in her bag, which was leaking a rainbow coloured substance.