Packard/Caboose

CB quickly realized he shouldn't have let his mouth run around newcomers.

"Do you know what it's like to derail, punk?" Packard stood a good few inches taller than the caboose, making him seem all the more menacing. With flames now threatening to burst from his firebox and steam hissing from his valves, anybody might confuse him for a different engine than the quiet luxury engine.

"Listen good buddy, it was a mistake! Everyone's friends now!" CB tugged at his collar, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead as he looked up at the clearly angered engine. Even after he'd come out about what he'd done in the past last race season, nobody had ever berated him to this extent. To be frank, he hadn't been this frightened since he went to face Control after the final.

Packard began to inch forward, prompting the caboose to inch backwards and stop only once he was against the brick wall of a freight shed. He placed his hands on either side of the caboose's head, staring directly into his eyes. He was ready to smash this little red bastard into splinters. Why wouldn't he? This train-wrecker had killed engines before without a second thought.

"Well, do yah!?" Packard's fist rose from the wall, rearing into the air and aiming directly at the car he had pinned beneath him. CB shut his eyes and prepared for a world of hurt.

Without another bit of hesitation, Packard swung.

"That's enough!" came a voice from behind, along with a familiar whistle.

Packard's fist stopped inches from CB's face as he turned to see who in the hell had stopped him from doing what he had to. Behind him stood Rusty, who almost seemed to be as angry as he was - just with a much smaller frame.

"Packard, what in Starlight's name do you think you're doing?" Rusty scowled at the larger engine, almost looking like he was ready to duke it out.

For just a moment, silence fell over the scene at hand. Packard took a look at his own fist, and then at the clearly terrified conductor's van against the wall. In a fit of anger, he'd nearly decked him. In just a split second, his intentions and demeanor had taken a complete one-eighty. He removed his other hand from the wall, a somber look crossing his face as he looked down.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled before rolling off towards the coal piles, Rusty and CB silently looking on.

"What do you think got into him?" The caboose asked, looking over at the current world champion.

"I don't know," Rusty stated as he watched Packard disappear behind an empty Freight shed, "but I'm going to find out."