A single train floated through a haze of swirling purple clouds. The clouds themselves lighting up from the arcs of bright thunder soundlessly flashing in all directions. The train had no tracks, but still seemed to chug along through the empty space as if it did.
-----
A grave chinese worker sat in the window seat, watching the ever changing atmosphere around them as the train embarked on its uneventful journey to who knows where. Another man sat next to the former, the latter of which held his face in his hands; Tears trailed through the miniscule cracks of his palms and down his arm.
The man sitting in the window seat turned his gaze to the various other passengers in the train. Everyone of them being another one of The Conductor’s workers. The majority of which either silently sobbed or stared longingly through the windowS. Perhaps picturing their waiting families back home.
Despite the train being frigid to the point of the men being able to see their own breath, the worker pitied his peer and picked up a small blanket from a small spot between himself and the interior wall of the train. He patted his crying peer’s back and then opened the blanket up to its full dimensions and laid it on the man.
“It’s going to be alright, just hang in there; We’ll get through this together.”
The crying man responded by continuing his tears of sadness. The former’s mood dampened even further, causing him to lay back in the seat and let out a sigh.
“I only wis-”
The door at the back of the train was kicked open by none other than The Conductor himself.
“Good work, everyone!”
The Conductor strolled down the aisle, his cane lightly tapping on the train’s floor. He stopped in front of a shivering Chinese man wrapped in a light wool blanket and patted him on the back.
“How’re you doing?”
The man’s teeth chattered as he answered his heartless employer, “C-c-cold-d, S-s-sir.”
The Conductor lifted a gloved hand and blew some air onto it. He eyed his own breath as it left his mouth and floated away.
“You’re right! It is cold!”
He ripped the blanket off of the cold and depressed Chinese man, ripped it in half and finally wrapped one of the halves around his right leg. He dropped the second half onto the floor.
He then reached behind his back and pulled out a match. It caught on fire as he struck the match against the Chinese man’s face. The Conductor smiled with glee as he dropped the match onto the blanket, causing it to explode in a flurry of flames. He then started dancing around the fire in a style much like a traditional African rain dance.
The man who he stole the blanket from made the best of the situation and held his hands over the fire. That was until The Conductor pushed him out of the way so he could have room to dance.
The rest of the men on the train stared in disbelief. Either because of The Conductor dancing or the fact that he was copying the African rain dance perfectly.
The Conductor stopped dancing as soon as the flames died down to barely a flicker. He unwrapped the ripped-in-half wool blanket from his leg and laid it on top of the ashes.
The Chinese man who was holding his hands over the fire frowned even more, if that was possible, as The Conductor stomped on the blanket to put out the remainder of the fire.
“There, I don’t feel cold anymore,” he looked down at the unpaid man next to him and smiled in appreciation, “Thank you!”
A determined voice sounded off from the back of the train, “When are we getting fe-” the voice died down to hardly a whisper, “-d. We’re hungry…”
The Conductor skipped down the aisle to the source of the voice and leaned over his lap, smiling directly into the man’s gaze. A swift hand once again flew behind his back and he pulled out a small, lead toy train.
“Here you go!”
The Conductor dropped the dry-as-dirt train into the man’s hands and stood fully erect.
The man held the train out in two hands in front of him and stated, “I can’t eat this…”
The Conductor answered his statement with one of his own as he skipped back to the front of the train, “Don’t worry! It’s edible!”
The man stared at the train, unsure if he should trust The Conductor or not. The men sitting around him also looked longingly at the train. The former lifted the train up to his mouth and prepared to chomp on it as the others scrambled to steal it from him.
He bit down on the train and his eyes shot open.
“It’s made out of pure lead!”
The men grappling each other around him that were trying to reach for the train stopped fighting and dropped their heads as they silently walked back to their seats. The Conductor ignored the man’s statement, stopped at the front, and turned around.
He pulled out a clipboard from behind his back and stated, “Time to take attendance!”
-----
Ten minutes of calling out names later, The Conductor came across a problem.
“Do we have a Ubahootah? Ubahootah? You there?”
He stared up at the men looking back at him.
“Well?”
One of the men upfront spoke up, “S-sir, I think we might have left him behind.”
The Conductor threw his clipboard over his shoulder and exclaimed, “I always love a good excuse!”
The clipboard that he threw smacked into a door, causing the occupier of the cab to open the door and peer outside. His baseball cap was partially visible, on the front was some text, ‘That One Br-’
“Take us back!”
The man tipped his head and disappeared back inside.
The train lurched as it made a one hundred and eighty degree turn towards Equestria. Clockwise if you were wondering.