A Loco Motion Picture

by Locomotion

Chapter 4: Accident!

So after a quick script alteration to have Lickety-Split go and check the rear of the train, we restarted filming. There weren't any further mishaps with that part of the scene, and we finished in good time for a lunch break while a wrecking train was sent up from Ponyville MPD. The cameras were relocated to capture its arrival, and once it had pulled up alongside the 602, Tarquin had a quick word with the forestallion prior to filming the recovery scene that was to follow.

Before we took up our positions, I gave the other foals a quick pep talk about the wrecking crane, and warned them to stay clear while it was in operation. The way the scene was supposed to go was that I would go speak with the forestallion myself before accosting the others back to the stretchers that had been laid out for the whole train crew, and we would then watch as the crane lifted the engine clear of the wreckage.

“Am I glad you guys turned up,” I remarked as I trotted up to the crane. I was mainly saying that because it was part of the script; but after that unplanned collision, part of me really meant it.

“How are the crew, Locomotion?” asked the forestallion. “Anypony hurt?”

“Nope – just badly shaken and bruised,” I replied. “How long do you reckon it'll be before that train's able to get going again?”

The forestallion paused, carefully surveying the wreckage. “Could be a pretty long job,” he said at last. “I'd say about five hours at least. We'll do what we can, though.”

“Okay. Is there anything we can do to help?”

“Thanks, but we'll manage just fine by ourselves. Just keep everypony well away from the crane,” advised the forestallion.

I promised that I would, and ordered the other foals to make their way back to the stretchers, which had been laid out next to the fourth wagon from the front of the train. Most of them did as they were told, but just as we were passing the 602's tender, I happened to notice Babs glancing underneath the crane. Thinking that she was missing her cue, I turned and marched back to her.

“Pear Drop, what are you doing?” I called, taking care to stay in character. “I told you to go back to the assembly area – now come on!”

But Babs didn't seem to be paying any attention. “Somepony was under that crane just a moment ago!”

“Are you out of your mind?!” I snapped. “You stay here, then that 'somepony under that crane' could be you if it goes over!”

“Nah, really, there was someone under that thing's wheels! Honest!” she protested. “There were sparks flying out from one of the chains, and...”

That was when an alarm bell started ringing in my head. If somepony was cutting through a chain, it could mean trouble. Even so, we couldn't just stand around trying to find a pony who wasn't actually there, so before Babs could finish, I said, “Don't argue, Pear Drop, just move along!” and forced her over to the van.

Once we were all assembled, Tarquin came over looking annoyed once again. “What's the meaning of this, Babs Seed?!” he asked severely. “You were meant to go straight over to the assembly area as soon as Locomotion told you to! Cranes are dangerous pieces of equipment; your dithering could very well have led to you being hurt, and then I would have had to write to your parents saying you had been hospitalised by a falling crane! Imagine how they would have felt about that! Imagine how they would have felt if they'd heard you'd been killed!”

“But Mr Tarquin,” insisted Babs, “there was a unicorn under the crane! He looked as if he was cutting...”

“ENOUGH!” I don't think Tarquin actually intended to use his Megatone, but Babs was really trying his patience. “Any more trouble out of you and I'll have you cut from the film!”

Babs didn't reply to that. She just turned away from the rest of us and sulked. But little did we know just how right she was – in fact, our disregard for her warnings was about to prove a grave error...

Within about half an hour, the wrecking crew had fastened chains around the engine and onto the crane's hook, and with a vigorous clanking and chuffing sound, the crane slowly started to take up the strain, while the rest of us sat back to watch. Shouldn't be too long now, I thought; soon the engine would be back on firm, undamaged rails, ready to go back to the sheds later on, and within the space of a few hours, our train be on its way back to Ponyville. But underneath the crane, where nopony could see, all was not well...

Suddenly, there was a crack from the direction of the wrecking train, and to our horror, the crane jolted to one side, dropping the engine back onto the ballast with a thud. Immediately afterwards, it began to topple over, and Sweetie-Belle was so alarmed that she let out an ear-piercing scream, tears of fright streaming from her eyes. Hardly surprising in my book, because as far as I'm concerned, there's nothing more terrifying than watching a steam-powered 85-ton wrecking crane overbalancing; but my own yell of horror caught in my throat, so I couldn't even shout a warning to the wrecking ponies.

The crane landed on its side with a loud crash, with steam bursting out of the cab – thankfully nothing like the massive explosion most ponies would have expected of such a bulky machine, but still quite a horrific scene. The shock of the whole thing must have been way too much for poor Sweetie-Belle to bear, because as soon as the crash had died down, she just went off in a faint there and then. Immediately Lavender was at her side, trying to bring her round; but I knew that with that crane on its side, this was no time to panic over a shocked filly.

“Come on, guys!” I shouted. “We gotta help! Pear Drop, Golden, come and give me a boost up to that cab!”

Babs and Apple Bloom obeyed without question, but part of me reckons they must have been amazed at my ability to stay in character despite the situation. Thing is, the cameras were still rolling at this point, and Tarquin had been so shocked by the whole thing that he hadn't ordered us to stop acting yet. With both fillies helping me, I scrambled on top of the cab of the overturned crane and peered inside.

“Are you okay in there, mister?” I called to the stallion who had been operating the crane at the time of the accident.

I couldn't see much through the smoke and steam, but I could just make out the crane operator with a hoof against his leg. “No,” he groaned. “My leg's broken and I've got quite a few burns.”

I turned back to the other ponies who had gathered round the crane. “Well that tears it; we're not gonna get him out that easily if his leg's broken,” I said. “Get some water out of the 602's tender, guys! We're gonna need to dowse that fire down!”

---

Once the fire was out, I sent Rumble off to Delamare to find a paramedic while the wrecking crew cut the rear end of the crane cab open. They soon managed to extricate the injured crane operator, and two doctors arrived shortly after, but there wasn't much we could do about the crane itself until another wrecking crew could be sent up. Tarquin was absolutely furious with this turn of events, and paced about the set while the wrecking crew inspected the damage, muttering angrily to himself in his Megatone. I had never seen him so mad before!

Eventually, he turned and marched up to the forestallion, his face as red as beetroot. “SABOTAGE!” he raged. “SABOTAGE, THAT'S WHAT IT IS! SOMEPONY'S OUT TO TRY AND RUIN MY FILM, I JUST KNOW IT!”

“Well what are you screaming your head off at me for?!” objected the forestallion, trying to hold his nerve.

But Tarquin wasn't listening. “NEVER YOU MIND WHAT, JUST GET THIS MESS CLEARED UP AT ONCE!” he thundered.

“We're doing the best we can, Mr Tarquin,” replied the forestallion, “but you'll just have to wait. We can't do much without heavy equipment.”

With no option but to let the wrecking crews do their thing, Tarquin turned and stormed off to the coach. I could only stand and stare in dismay as the whole thing played out in front of me. Up till that point, I'd always thought, and I quote, that “Tartarus hath no fury like a mare scorned” – but crikey, was I wrong!

“Wow!” I remarked. “This mishap's really getting to him, isn't it?”

“I'll say,” mused the forestallion gravely, “and not without good reason either.”

“How come?”

“One of my ponies has just had a look under that crane,” he explained. “It was sabotage alright; turns out that the anchor chain holding it to the rails had been cut before we started lifting.”

I was absolutely stunned. “WHAT?!” I burst out in shock.

“I'm afraid so,” affirmed the forestallion. “The middle link of that chain looked as if somepony had been through it with a gas-torch.”

Only then did I realise; “So that's why Babs seemed so distracted earlier! I should have known she was trying to tell us something,” I said, feeling like a complete idiot. “Any idea who did it?”

“Not a jot,” admitted the forestallion. “I guess we'll just have to hope that maniac doesn't try the same thing on the other crane.”

I could only agree. One major accident was bad enough, but three? All in the same day?! No wonder Tarquin was in such a deadly temper!

A little later, I went back to the coach to see if Sweetie-Belle had come round yet. As chance would have it, Lickety-Split was just on the other side of the door as I entered.

“How's Sweetie-Belle?” I asked anxiously.

“Still out cold, I'm afraid,” replied Lickety-Split. From the tone of his voice, I could tell that he himself was deeply concerned for her. “That accident must have done an awful number on her.”

“Yeah – except that that was no accident,” I said darkly, and explained what the wrecking crew had discovered.

To say Lickety-Split was rather surprised would be putting it pretty mildly. “So......all this because somepony has tampered with an anchor chain?!” he exclaimed.

I simply nodded in reply.

“So it is something to do with that stallion!” hissed Lickety-Split in sullen anger. “Just wait till I get my hooves on that saboteur! I'll teach him to scare the daylights out of Sweetie-Belle like that!”

Once again, I was rather taken aback; normally Lickety-Split wasn't the sort of pony to become angered so easily. But luckily, I was able to calm him down just as quickly, and instead of brooding over who was responsible for that dastardly act of sabotage, we made our way over to the rearmost compartment of the coach. Sweetie-Belle lay motionless across the seats on one side of the compartment, her eyes closed and her breathing shallow, while Lavender and one of the doctors watched over her. I would have said she'd gone all pale in the face, but since her fur is mostly white in colour, you wouldn't have been able to tell.

“Is she gonna be okay?” I asked the doctor.

“She should be fine by now,” the doctor affirmed. “Her pulse was looking a bit dangerous earlier, but it's already back to normal.”

“Nothing serious, I hope.” Already, Lickety-Split had gone straight back to being worried.

“No, she's just fainted from shock,” replied the doctor. “All she needs is a few days' bed rest, and she'll be as right as rain.”

“How about the crane operator?”

“Plenty of second degree burns, not to mention concussion and a broken leg, but he'll live.”

At that moment, Sweetie-Belle finally came to with a groan. “Ooh...where am I?” she asks weakly, trying to sit upright; but no sooner has she angled herself a few degrees upwards from a reclining position than she starts to sway a little, as if she's going into a relapse.

Lavender responded by gently pushing her back again. “Take it easy, Sweetie-Belle,” she soothed gently. “You're in a bad way.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Nothing too serious,” I explained. “You just went into shock when that crane overbalanced.”

Sweetie-Belle paused, probably trying to remember what had happened. “Yeah, I remember hearing a thud, and then I turned and saw that crane starting to fall over...” but she broke off at that point and started to shed tears. “It was horrible! I thought it would explode and kill us all,” she whimpered, still pretty shaken.

Lickety-Split leaned forwards and hugged her tightly in reassurance. “It's okay, Sweetie-Belle,” he comforted. “It's all over now; everything's going to be okay.”

But by the tone of Sweetie-Belle's voice – and the expression of pure terror on her face – it would be a long time before she fully recovered. She didn't reply immediately, but turned and buried her face in Lickety-Split's shoulder, bawling loudly as she returned his embrace. Knowing full well that those two love-birds needed to be alone, I tactfully turned and left the compartment to see how Tarquin was doing.

Thankfully, Tarquin had cooled off by this time, but he still looked rather agitated. For a moment, I wasn't sure whether or not I should enter his compartment; but the moment he saw me, he wearily beckoned me in, at which point I realised that he too needed a bit of company. With that in mind, I cautiously sidled up to him.

“Tarquin, I'm really sorry that...”

“No, Locomotion,” interrupted Tarquin glumly, “you don't need to apologise for anything. I shouldn't have lost my temper like that; I don't normally do so when my films go wrong, but this act of sabotage was taking it much too far. You and your co-actors did very well to maintain character throughout the ordeal, by the way, and I'm very pleased with you all.”

I nodded modestly. “Yeah, you were quite right about it being sabotage,” I observed. “The forestallion says an anchor chain had been damaged before the crane had started to lift the engine.”

“Just as I had deduced myself,” agreed Tarquin. “I just wish I knew who did it.”

“Well, I'm not entirely sure myself,” I confided, “but I think it could have something to do with...you know that charcoal-coloured stallion who had infiltrated the set on our first day of filming?”

“Yes, what about him?”

“Well, he was trying to tell me that you were a complete box-office flop when in fact you're the best film-maker I could ever know. He even showed me a video of somepony else's work that had a signature similar to yours except for different font and a different second T.”

Tarquin nodded gravely. “Sounds like Take-Two alright.”

That caught me off guard. “You know of Take-Two?” I asked in bewilderment. “But how?”

Before I go on, I should point out that Take-Two is another film-maker from Canterlot, whose films I'm aware of, but don't necessarily watch myself. To be honest, I find the style of those films a bit rubbish by comparison with Tarquin's, and even the plots of those that included trains in them seemed a bit dry. Mind you, last thing I expected was to hear that he and Tarquin had been acquainted with each other.

“Take-Two and I had known each other since we were colts,” explained Tarquin. “We both shared a vision of being among the most successful film-makers the world had ever seen; but while Take-Two had the ambition, he never had the ability to make it a reality. Admittedly, I myself wasn't much better at first, but one day, while setting up for a school play, that was about to change. As we were moving the props into position, I was trying to use my magic on one, but was having little success. Frustrated, I went into a bit of an outburst, saying, 'This is stupid! How can I possibly hope to make movie magic if I can't move a simple prop?!' No sooner had I said 'movie magic', of course, than I heard a loud bang that seemed to come from all directions. I suspected that it must be a teacher coming to see what the matter was, but when I looked up, I noticed Take-Two and the others goggling in disbelief.

“I was rather confused at first, but then one young filly pointed and said, 'Wow, Tarquin, that was brilliant!' I turned around, wondering what she was getting at, and to my amazement, I realised that the whole set was ready – just the way I had envisioned it to be too!”

“And that's when you started using the phrase 'Movie Magic'?” I supposed.

“Indeed so, my boy; the school was so impressed with my abilities that they consistently sought my assistance whenever they put on another play, right up until I moved to high-school. At first, Take-Two was just as impressed as the others, but that admiration gradually turned to jealousy, and he became all closed off and bitter towards me,” Tarquin went on. “It sparked off a rivalry between us, and he even went as far as to try and make me look silly during our last school play before we finished in elementary school. Luckily, one of the teachers caught him out at the last minute, and he was given a week's detention as a punishment.”

The realisation that Take-Two had been plotting against Tarquin long before either pony had begun making films made my blood run cold. “So he was the one who sabotaged that crane?!”

“Not directly; he most likely sent a subordinate out to do the work for him. But yes, it must have been him planning it all along.”

“What do you plan to do about it?” I asked anxiously.

Tarquin paused. “Well, I can't just refer him to the police,” he replied at last. “He could easily turn the interrogation into a lawsuit against me for slandering his production company, and then that'd be my whole film career down the drain.”

“So...does that mean we have to call the whole thing off?”

“Absolutely not – Take-Two may be out to get me, but I'll never let him get his way with this film, not after all the effort I've put into it!” replied Tarquin boldly. “From now on, I shall have to leave no stone unturned, no actors or film crew unscrutinised, and absolutely none of the props unchecked. No matter what, this show must go on!”