//------------------------------// // Chapter 6: The End of the Line // Story: A Loco Motion Picture // by Locomotion //------------------------------// Another few miles passed, and we soon found ourselves approaching Fetlockerbie Junction, about a hundred and forty miles from Ponyville in the town of San Fratello. That was as good a place as any to send my message across, I thought, so as soon as we approached the signalbox, I threw the bottle in through an open window with all my might before returning my attention to the line ahead. As soon as the signalpony had read the message contained in the bottle, he got in contact with headquarters at Canterlot to tell them what was going on with “Cloudsdale” and the 602. Immediately afterwards, the whole railway swung into action; signals and points were reset, trains were halted or sidetracked, and the whole line was cleared for us between San Fratello and Canterbury West Terminus, Canterlot, where the police would be waiting to nab the villains as soon as they got there. With the comparatively slow speed of the 602, it took until about 7am the following morning to reach the capital. I'm surprised they didn't end up stalling halfway there, to be honest – or, for that matter, that Tarquin and I had been able to stay awake for so long – but at that moment, I was more worried about the fast approaching station. By the looks of it, the goons hadn't realised that they were at the end of the line – quite literally – because while I had the presence of mind to stop, they just kept on going. Only when they approached the platforms did they seem to twig that they were headed for disaster, but by then it was too late. The area had already been cordoned off by the police, so there were no passengers in the station as yet. Just as well too, for the 602 was still doing about 50 miles an hour as it came to the buffer stops. We could only watch helplessly as it overran the buffers and crashed through the wall at the end of the station, creating a path of destruction for a few yards before finally coming to rest on the station forecourt, battered and worn out. I brought the “City of Cloudsdale” to a halt just behind the last two coaches left on the 602's train, at which point I noticed a dark blue Earth stallion with red-orange mane limping away from them as fast as he could manage. By the clapper-board with a number 2 on his flanks, I immediately deduced that this must be Take-Two, so I ran after him all the way to a warehouse in the nearby freight yard. Once I was inside, though, I couldn't see him anywhere; crates and barrels stood all around, but other than that, the place seemed empty. Clearly he must have been trying to hide from me. “Alright, Take-Two,” I ordered fiercely, “come on out! You can't hide forever!” There was a long silence. “Show yourself, you blackguard!” I bellowed. “I know you're in there. You've nowhere else to run now!” Another silence ensued for a few seconds before another, more sinister voice broke it again. “Oh yeah? And how's a snot-nosed little brat like you gonna stop me, huh?” “Don't kid yourself, Take-Two!” I snapped, with more strength than I actually felt. “You've lost! The whole station's surrounded, and you don't even have Lavender Rhapsody with you!” “By just one little colt like you?! Go home and play with your train-set, you little runt!” snarled Take-Two, emerging from the shadows. “And leave you to ruin one of the best film-makers of all time? Not on your life, Take-Two!” I replied defiantly, lowering my head and scraping an aggressive forehoof against the ground. Take-Two leered at me. “You really think you have a chance against me?! Yeah, wrong!” “That's rich coming from a pony whose works absolutely suck!” “Why, you......I'll knock your bucking block off!!!!” “I'd like to see you try!” The enraged pony snarled again, this time a lot more threateningly. “Alright, kid – you asked for it!!” and he galloped towards me. But what he didn't realise was that I'd learned a simple but effective forcefield spell, which enabled me to create a protective barrier around myself. Take-Two, on the other hoof, probably wasn't used to magic, because he just charged straight into my barrier regardless – with the result that the only damage he could deal was to himself. He must have been bordering on madness too, for he kept trying and failing to break my forcefield, only to be knocked back each time. “It's no use, Take-Two!” I scowled at him. “Resistance is futile! You've no choice but to surrender!” Take-Two flew into a rage at this point. “Oh, so I'm defenceless, am I? Well, let me tell you, you filthy little lump of flesh, you've no way of proving me guilty – no evidence, no testimony, nothing! You may have foiled my attempts to sabotage the film and foalnap your precious Lavender Rhapsody, but nopony – absolutely nopony – would believe an idiotic little beast of burden like you, and neither would anypony actually want an idiot foal taking part in some stupid film about what only adults will ever understand! You are nothing – nothing but a snotty young foal who will never be good for anything!!” I was enraged – but before I could open my mouth to shout back at him, we heard that familiar bellow of “MOVIE MAGIC!” – and the next thing I knew, we were both on the station forecourt, with a panic-stricken Take-Two screaming his head off in terror, probably from having been teleported so suddenly. “Well, well, Take-Two,” said a smug voice, “we meet again, I see.” Take-Two quickly pulled himself together and looked over his shoulder to see who had just spoken to him. “You!” he exclaimed in disbelief. Yep – you guessed it! Standing behind him, a look of satisfaction on his face, was none other than Technicolour Tarquin. “Awfully sorry to put an end to your joyride so soon,” he smirked, “but the police and I have a bushel to pick with you. Firstly, we'd like to know how it was that you thought you could get away with such...such heinous crimes.” “Have you been listening to that fibbing pile of filth you call your star performer?!” demanded Take-Two defensively. “And you can mind your manners too,” added Tarquin in deadpan. “That 'pile of filth', as you so crudely put it, does have a name, after all, so I'd be a great deal happier if you called him Locomotion, thank you so very much! And another thing – there's no way he could have lied about you slandering my company, sabotaging my sets and props, and certainly not about foalnapping a certain singer-cum-actress named Lavender Rhapsody. You the one who wrote out that ransom note, after all; I'd recognise that messy scrawl anywhere.” “And I suppose you have it right with you?” “Well......no,” replied Tarquin, clearly feigning defeat. “Then why are you accusing me of something I didn't do if you've no evidence against me?!” “Because the signalpony at Fetlockerbie Junction does, for a start,” I pointed out, prompting a look of mirth on Tarquin's part. “Yes, and also, I would have thought you'd have realised before spouting all those insults at young Locomotion here that we already have a certain other witness to prove it,” he added. “What other witness?!” objected Take-Two angrily. “What the hay are you talking about, you brainless liar?!” “Call me what you like,” countered Tarquin, without raising his voice, “but as a fellow film-maker like you can testify, 'the camera never lies'. In fact, I'm feeling a little generous right now, so I'll tell you what I'll do – I'll treat you all to my favourite part of my latest film.” And what a film it was too – once the police are all gathered round the camera, he winds back the film and repeatedly plays back the bit with Take-Two admitting to his crimes before slamming me like a mistreated cupboard door. Only then did I realise that while I had been having it out with Take-Two, Tarquin had secretly been filming the whole thing! “So, Take-Two,” he asked smugly once he was done playing back the film, “where are you going now?” But after seeing what pretty much accounts to his demise, Take-Two was at a complete loss for words, and just stood there with his mouth hanging open. It was priceless, I tell you – priceless! “I'll tell you where you're going,” went on Tarquin. “You're going for a nice, long holiday – behind bars.” He then turned to the police; “Okay, officers, take him away.” And so, baying and swearing in fury, Take-Two was dragged away to the waiting police cart. I tell you what, after what he said to insult me, I couldn't be more glad to see the back of him. “Well,” I chuckled, “I doubt we're gonna get any trouble out of him again. Good call, Tarquin!” and I gave him a triumphant hoof-bump. “My pleasure,” smiled Tarquin heartily. “I knew he wouldn't get away with foalnapping Lavender Rhapsody like that – especially with a budding young engine driver like you on my side. Well done indeed.” I smiled back, but suddenly remembered the main reason we had gone after the 602 in the first place. “Hang on,” I burst out, almost ready to panic, “what about Lavender?! She's not hurt, is she?!” “I'm fine, Locomotion – just a few cuts and bruises, that's all.” I swung round, startled, but quickly relaxed when I saw Lavender Rhapsody standing right behind me. She had sustained a black eye from the sudden sharp impact, and her right front leg was all bandaged up, but apart from a few minor cuts, I couldn't see anything wrong. “Aw, thank Celestia you're okay, Lavender,” I sighed with relief. “Just about,” she replied, “but if it hadn't been for you and your friends, Locomotion, it could have been a lot worse. You've not only saved my life, but Tarquin's film career as well.” “Indeed,” agreed Tarquin. “Thank you so much, Loco – if it hadn't been for you, life wouldn't have been worth living. My film company would have been ruined, my reputation would have been permanently tarnished – heaven knows, I wouldn't even have had...” “...a pony that you could call your fillyfriend?” I asked innocently. Part of me kinda wished I hadn't, to be honest, because Tarquin just went all quiet and turned his head away, as if trying to hide a blush. “You don't need to hide it from me,” I soothed. “I won't judge you for it, and neither will I make a big thing about it in the media – I promise.” Only then does Tarquin start being honest about the whole thing. “In that case...yes, I'm most relieved to still have you as part of my life, Lavender my dear,” he said softly, and nuzzled her gently. It was such a sweet sight to behold, and even Scootaloo seemed moved by it all. Can't understand how Scootaloo of all ponies would find it cute, though – maybe it was because of all the time she had spent with Rumble or something. So anyway, after all the palaver that had started at ten o'clock the previous morning, Tarquin chartered a special train to take us back to Ponyville, consisting of a dining car and a couple of sleeping cars. “City of Cloudsdale” was in a weary state after all that hard non-stop running – and having been awake for twenty-four hours myself, I'm hardly surprised – so they brought out the first of her class, No. 2500, “City of Canterlot”, to pull our train instead, while “Cloudsdale” was towed back to Canterbury Common MPD for minor running repairs before following suit; but as for the 602......well, there's no way we would have been able to make any further use of that any time soon. The poor engine was so badly damaged from the collision that it would take a full overhaul at Hoofington Works to get it back in operation again. We arrived home at about three o'clock the following day. The story of our adventure, of course, had reached Ponyville long before we did, so when the “City of Canterlot” pulled into Ponyville Central Station, we found a massive crowd of ponies standing on the platform – in fact, I think the whole town had come out to greet us! I alighted from the train to a hero's welcome, and the cheering townsponies carried me on their shoulders all the way to Sugarcube Corner, where Pinkie Pie had thrown a massive hero party for me. In retrospect, it was incredible to think that I was the one who had saved the day, according to Tarquin and the others. Prior to all that, I'd not had that much experience at actually driving a steam engine; and yet, guided purely by intuition, I had handled the “City of Cloudsdale” so well that I'd completely foiled Take-Two's half-baked plot against Technicolour Tarquin and everything he stood for – and all this just by fulfilling my dream of driving a real steam locomotive on the main line. It really humbled me to know that my expertise on railways alone had enabled me to bring Take-Two to justice and save Tarquin's film company from an untimely end. But as far as I'm concerned, the real hero of the day was none other than my Uncle Steamer's trusty Equestrian National Railways City Class No. 2508, “City of Cloudsdale” herself; if it hadn't been for her, I would never have been able to thwart Take-Two and his lackeys. After another month, during most of which Tarquin and I were up at the High Court of Canterlot for jury duty regarding Take-Two, we were finally able to resume filming. This time, there wasn't a single act of sabotage carried out on set, and by mid-autumn, Tarquin had got all the shots he wanted and was able to take them to the studio for editing. Our lives pretty much went back to normal after that, though there was a great deal of speculation among me and my co-actors about the final cut of the film. Oddly enough, Diamond Tiara no longer seemed to be looking down on us like some noblepony on a group of peasants – in fact, whenever any of us who starred in the film happened to be around, whether it was me, Lickety-Split, High Score or even the Cutie Mark Crusaders, she remained respectfully silent. Still, I wasn't going to let her off the hook that easily...