On the island of Sodor, we see a large old-timey railway station. 1940s era cars bustle about, and we hear chattering and talking to the effect of "watch where you're going!" "hey the road ain't so big," etc. We pan up to the railway station to see a steam train leaving, its front end just out of frame. A tank engine is shunting trucks, the tank engine's front out of frame as well. We hear chatter to the effect of "oh oh oh! whatever is happening?" and "come on! comeoncomeoncomeoncomeon come ON!" as the tank engine pushes the trucks and the larger engine struggles out the station. The engines in shot are all steam engines and they're all colorful, painted in blues, greens, and reds.

Narrator: I remember, long ago, the island was bright and cheerful. It was so beautiful in the old days, so full of personality. Maybe it was just because I was a child, oh, I don't know. You could almost hear the engines talking to themselves, puffing "come on! come on!" as they left the station. I remember when I lived at Maron--

we see a cottage on a hill near the railway as three big blue driver wheels of a steam locomotive struggle and slip up a hill. "I can't do it," repeated quietly among the chuffing and clatter of the wheels, and the train progressed forward, wheel click after wheelclick of each truck, until the two driver wheels of a smaller engine showed up, puffing to the tune of "I will do it! I will do it!"

Narrator: --the engines seemed to have disagreements about whether they'd make it up the great hill. Oh it was lovely to watch the trains come and go. Mother hated it of course, and it seemed that no matter where we went, the railway went too. She hated the noise. We moved to the mainland later on to get away from the noise. I miss the way it was.

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August 20th, 2023. It's raining. A modern ford SUV pulls up at the old railway station. Clearly it has been abandoned for decades. The grass covers up the railway tracks as well as the road.

"This is the place, huh?" Archibald says.

"It's a ghost town, Archie," Johnson says, "you sure those directions you got were right?"

"The Reverend wasn't entirely clear, he seemed to be mostly lost in his thoughts. But I think I traced down the only place it could be. These maps are pretty old, I couldn't find a more up to date one, but I don't think it could be anywhere else."

Archibald and Johnson approach a three-berth engine shed.

"It's locked," Archibald says.

"Of course it's locked, here, give me the--" Johnson starts, as Archibald grabs the lock, the shed door falls down with a loud THUD. Thunder and lightning follow, backlighting the contents of the shed dramatically: a tank engine, somewhat rusted, with a bent bufferbeam, a black smokebox door with the number one written on a crooked plaque on the front.

"There she is," Archibald says.

"It's a tank engine Archie, its pronoun is 'it.'" Johnson says.

"Yes, yes, we all know how fun you are at parties, John." Archibald says.

"Johnson." Johnson corrects.

"Well, Johnson, how are we going to get 'it' out?" Archibald says.

Johnson: "Hmm... we could try bringing it back on the railway, but given the condition of the roads I doubt the rails will be much better."

Cut to a clear, damp night. Surfaces shine in the moonlight. A crane-arm truck and a semi truck with a flatbed trailer are loading the tank engine onto the truck. We get a first good look at it, showing its six small wheels, short stumpy funnel, short stumpy boiler, and short stumpy dome.

"I was expecting an LNER J50," Archibald says.

Johnson: "What is it?"

Archibald: "Not sure. Same wheel arrangement but I've never seen side tanks like that."

Johnson: "Looks like the picture book to me."

Archibald: "I didn't expect a children's book about talking trains to have an accurate depiction of locomotive classes."

Johnson: "indeed."

cut: the tank engine is on the flatbed, covered in tarp. The crew drive off. They drive along the dilapidated roads until they reach the main road, which runs along the main railway line. A diesel train, blue and yellow, is pulling a small passenger train along the line. The truck reaches the big station, labelled Vicarstown, showing it to be modernized and yet dilapidated, with harsh metal-halide lights and grime all over. They pass the Jubilee bridge and enter Barrow-In-Furness, and continue driving until they reach a railway yard. This is the National Railway Museum. Archibald and Johnson get out of the truck. A woman approaches.

"Archie, Johnson, did you get the tank engine?" she says.

"Aye, Marie" Archie says.

"A fantastic piece of history. What do you figure needs to be done?" Marie says.

"Well it's hard to say at this time. Haven't got a good look at it yet, but it looks like it needs a complete overhaul. We can start by cleaning it up, getting rid of the dirt. We'll have to run a full inspection first. It's in better shape than I expected, but it's still pretty bad."

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skip some story bits. thomas gets repaired. we're introduced to chris, a young autistic man who is obsessed with trains, going to his first day volunteering at the national railway museum, etc. we see his bedroom, which is full of railway series memoribilia and other train swag.
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"Wow. I can't believe it. It's really Thomas the Tank Engine!"

"You read those books, Chris?" Archibald says.

Chris: "You don't know the half of it."

Archibald: "I want Number One's brass gleaming, alright?"

Archibald leaves Chris with cleaning supplies in the shed with just Thomas in it.

Chris climbs the ladder and starts polishing the window.

"Oof, careful." A muffled voice says.

"What?" Chris says, looking up and all around.

"That window's a bit sore," the muffled voice says.