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There was a different sound and everyone looked up. The sleepers retreated into the tunnel.
Everyone looked over at the approaching train. The telltale pillar of steam showed Rusty was the engine, and based off Control's command he was pulling the freight train.
The coaches all rolled their eyes and sniffed disdainfully. The girls all gathered around Greaseball, Dinah closest.
Rusty pulled in with the freight train, they were heavy but he had been pulling them for as long as he could remember.
When he looked up and saw Pearl, his heart skipped a beat, but then he saw Greaseball. Well the diesel engine wouldn't do anything while he had a train; at least Rusty hoped so.
Behind him, the freight cars didn't have such worries.
"Freight is great," the trucks behind Rusty sang, "Freight is great."
He pulled into the yard and circled it.
"We carry weight, 'cos we are freight," the trucks sang, pointedly ignoring the coaches, "and freight is great."
Rusty swerved, giving the coaches a wide berth. The girls rolled their eyes at the boys in the train. The trucks glared at the coaches and urged their engine on faster.
"We never make a fuss," they sang, "You got the goods on us. We take the loads from off the roads," they turned to the coaches, "And freight is great!"
The coaches hitched behind Greaseball, Dinah, Ashley, Buffy and Pearl. Greaseball zipped out, cutting in front of Rusty. Pearl shot him an apologetic glance.
"Couldn't stand gravel and sand," the coaches sang, "Being ignored, no one aboard. Nobody complaining we were late again."
Greaseball pulled the coaches around the freight train.
No fair, Rusty thought, the coaches were so much lighter, and there were less of them, no wonder Greaseball could go so fast.
"I should hate carrying freight," the coaches continued, horrified at the thought, "Nobody living in me. Got to be a living breathing passenger train."
The lead car spurred Rusty into motion.
"Freight is great!" the trucks shouted, "Freight is great!"
The two trains took off in opposite directions, circling around to pass behind each other.
"Freight!" the trucks started.
"Couldn't stand gravel and sand," the coaches sang, "Being ignored, no one aboard."
"It great!" the trucks finished.
"Nobody complaining we were late again," the coaches retorted.
"We carry weight," the trucks answered.
"I should hate carrying freight," the coaches sang as they passed the freight train, "Nobody living in me."
"And freight is great!" the trucks shouted.
"Got to be a living breathing passenger train," the coaches finished.
The two trains pulled even with each other, with an engine at either end.
"It's mommas and poppas," the coaches sang.
"It's commerce and hoppers," the trucks argued.
"It's daughters and sons," the coaches sang.
"It's quarters an' tons," the trucks countered, "They get in your hair."
"It's the fun of the fare!" the coaches exclaimed.
"Freight!" the trucks shouted.
"Folks!"
"Tares!"
"Fares!" the coaches shouted gliding off, "Passengers, commuters and mail."
"Trees and meat, gravel and shale," the trucks called going off in the opposite direction.
"Are great, are great, are great, are great, are great!" trucks and coaches sang.
The two engines swerved to avoid crashing.
"Control! Control!" Control shouted, causing all activity to stop, "Coaches and trucks to stop dispute! Stop dispute!"
The engines used this time to catch their breaths, Rusty openly panting and Greaseball trying to hide it.
"Trucks will identify for selection grid," Control ordered.
Rusty inhaled sharply and looked up, he was ready. Greaseball and the coaches pulled back out of the way.
"Boxcars," Control commanded.
Rusty pulled the first cars, the boxcars out front and unhitched. The three boxcars looked very similar, all wore red.
"I'm Rocky," the first one said, "There's lots like me."
"I'm Rocky two," the nest said.
"I'm Rocky three."
"The only time we get sick inside is when some bum hitches a ride," Rocky said with a glance at his brothers.
"We wait for a sharp corner to come," Rocky two continued.
"And open the door," Rocky three finished, turning a cartwheel.
"Bye-bye bum!" the boxcars shouted.
"Freight is great!" the trucks shouted as Rusty picked up the next car.
"Brick truck," Control commanded.
Rusty pulled the next truck, wearing a patterned gray outfit.
"Flat Top!" he exclaimed unhitching, "Who you lookin' at?" He demanded, "Yeah they're bricks, what's wrong with that?" he rolled his eyes, "No you're right, they don't all match. Yes they're 'eavy," suddenly he whirled and let a brick fly, "Here catch!"
"Freight is great!" the trucks shouted.
"Aggregate hopper," Control ordered.
Rusty pulled the large, heavy aggregate hopper forward. The hopper wore plaid blue flannel. He was silent.
"C'mon aggregate hopper!" Control repeated.
"Come on Dustin," Flat Top encouraged.
"I'm the big hopper, I'm not a box," Dustin said.
"Yeah, your head is full of rocks," the Rockies teased.
Dustin turned and glared at the Rockies.
"They ain't rocks," he exclaimed indignantly, "They're aggregates and aggregates are really great!"
Dustin and Flat Top hitched behind Rusty and he pulled them around.
"Aggregates are really great," the two trucks sang, "Aggregates never complain. Bricks and mortar are thicker then water, it's great to be an aggregate train."
"The red caboose," Control announced.
Rusty pulled out the smaller car, which wore dark red.
"At the back, on every piece of track," the caboose sang, "I'm right behind you." He turned to everyone, "Can I be of help at all?" he asked, "Then simply call CB."
Everyone stepped forward and waved to the caboose.
"Hello CB," the trucks said.
"Hello," CB said with a wave and a smile, "The red caboose would like to be of use to every truck and show the world that... "
"Freight is great!" the trucks shouted forming their train again, "Freight is great!"
The coaches re-hitched and sped around.
"Freight!" the trucks shouted taking off after the coaches.
"Couldn't stand gravel and sand," the coaches sang, "Being ignored, no one aboard."
"Is great!" the trucks shouted.
"Nobody complaining we were late again," the coaches sang zipping around.
"We carry weight," the trucks said going the opposite way.
"I should hate carrying freight," the coaches added, "Nobody living in me."
"And freight is great," the trucks finished.
"Got to be a living breathing passenger train," the coaches finished.
The two trains pulled even with each other and unhitched. The two trains joined, each coach leaning on two trucks.
"It's mommas and poppas," the coaches sang.
"It's commerce and hoppers," the trucks countered.
"It's daughters and sons," the coaches sang, each twirling around a truck.
"It's quarters an' tons," the trucks argued, crossing their arms, "They get in your hair."
"It's the fun of the fare!" the coaches exclaimed separating from the trucks.
The two trains faced off.
"Freight!" the trucks shouted.
"Folks!" shouted the coaches.
"Tares!"
"Fares!"
Rusty was very carefully avoiding Greaseball during all of this.
"Passengers, commuters and mail," the coaches sang.
"Trees and meat, gravel and shale," the trucks sang.
The two trains joined and sang together, "On the rails, on the rails, on the rails, on the rails."
They separated, each train taking off in opposite directions.
"Are great, are great, are great, are great, are great, are great, are great, are great are... .great!"
The two trains glared at each other, crossed their arms and turned away.
The two engines rolled their eyes at each other. It was the only thing that they agreed on.
"Control! Control!" Control called, "Coaches and trucks to selection grid. Race time minus ten minutes."
Dispute forgotten; the two trains reformed.
"National champions assemble for parade," Control continued, "National champions for parade."
Greaseball looked at Rusty smugly, blew a kiss to the coaches and took off.
The coaches scrambled to hitch behind Rusty before the trucks did. Rusty pulled the coaches over to the side and then went back for the freight cars.
Greaseball had gone to line up for the parade. The other engines that had come for the race were already lined up.
As Control announced him, each engine skated out, removed his helmet and bowed or saluted before taking his place on the track.
The reigning champion: The Pacific Daylight,"
"From France: the 120 mph Sudest," Control announced as an engine in blue and white skated out, "The power of the Sudest: Bobo!"
Bobo removed his helmet, snapped a sharp salute and took he place. The rest of the engines proceeded in a similar way.
"From Italy: the 100-mph Rome to Milan Express, the Settebello. Powered by Espresso
From Germany: at 110-mph the 103 class: Weltshaft.
From Russia: as fast as possible - the Trans-Siberian Express. Powered by Turnov."
"From England, occasionally, " Control added as the next engine entered slowly, "The Advanced Passenger Train, the City of Milton Keynes.
From Japan: the Shinkanssen bullet train. the power of the bullet - Hashamoto."
Greaseball slowly and mechanically removed his helmet with a graceful bow.
Rusty looked upward, reminding Control that he was still there.
"From the sidings," Control continued reluctantly, "Rusty the steamer."
"Nobody can do it like a steam train!" Rusty sang as he took his place, ignoring the fact that the other engines were all taller then he was.
The others all shook their heads.
"Rusty go home! Rusty go home!" Everyone shouted, "Rusty get back! Get off the track!"
Rusty started to back up but stopped himself and shook his head. It didn't matter what they thought, he'd show them all tonight.
"Entries closing! Entries closing!" Control called, "Closing once, closing twice."
Suddenly the lights flickered.
What was that? Rusty wondered getting an eerie feeling.
"Late entry! Late entry!" Control exclaimed, "Stand by for electrification! Stand by for electrification!"
The nationals and Rusty broke formation as the bridge started to move again, on it's own.
As the bridge rose up to it's highest level fog rolled in over the tracks. Five strange looking figures emerged. Rusty, who was on the ground, scooted back slowly.
"Clear Electra," the first large car said in a strangely robotic voice, "Verify."
"Go to Electra," the next said, "Load."
"Shift Electra," the third purred.
"Space Electra!" the fourth exploded.
"Enter Electra, run Electra," the final car said, "Confirm, confirm enter."
The five cars began circling as the bridge spun 360 degrees before finally lowering.
"Electra... Electra... " the cars sang, "Electra... Eeeeelleeeecctraaaa!"
On the last note the cars bowed, a dark figure that had materialized on the bridge suddenly lit up and came to life.
"I am electric, feel my attraction," he sang drawing his five cars closer to him, "Feel my magnetism you will agree." The red and blue engine moved robotically as he sang. "I am electric, I have the contacts, I am electric the future is me!"
The components circled closer around him.
"AC, DC it's OK by me," they and he sang, "I can switch and change my frequency."
The component sang wordlessly as they danced with their engine.
"I am electric, mind how you touch me," Electra sang, live electricity flowing through him, "I can shock you, I can set you on fire." Electra spun suddenly and let out a huge lightning bolt, shocking his cars, who didn't seem to mind.
"I can reach up and pluck down the lightning," he continued, sparks gathering around his arms, "Watch the conductor, see the live wire!" He let out another thunderbolt.
"AC, DC, It's OK by me," they sang, "I can switch and change my frequency."
"Electra... Electra... " everyone sang, including the coaches and trucks, who were falling under Electra's hypnotic spell, "Electra... Electra!"
"I am electric, I'm a computer," he sang in a robotic tone, "Don't attempt to keep no secrets from me."
He looked around at the group, especially the coaches, pleased.
He turned to the nearest component and shoved her away.
"If you make me bored I'll hit my keyboard, you'll be erased from my memory."
"AC, DC it's OK by me," he sang turning his attention to one very pretty cream and pink coach, "I can switch and change my frequency." Suddenly he whirled and zapped the freight cars, "Can switch and change my frequency," he turned and zapped the national engines, "Can switch and change my frequency!"
"Electra... " they sang, "Electra... "
The coaches moved in closer to Electra, drawn in by his magnetism.
Electra narrowed in on Pearl while still getting attention from the others. "Electra... .Electra... "
"I can switch and change my frequency!" Electra shouted.
Greaseball couldn't stand it anymore. Usually the coaches all hung around him. He shook himself lose of Electra's magnetism and roared out. The coaches blinked as if in a daze and returned to Greaseball. The trucks returned to Rusty.
"You, you're overloaded," Greaseball shouted at Electra.
"I'm electric, takin' over," Electra purred.
"You'll have to beat diesel," Greaseball retorted.
"Take on diesel," Dinah added from behind him.
"Take on diesel," Greaseball and the coaches challenged.
"Electricity is taking charge," the components sang.
"I will enter, I will win, will win!" Electra declared, shocking Greaseball.
"You'll never win, you'll never win!" Greaseball said recovering quickly, "I'm gonna beat you, I'm gonna beat you!"
"I'm gonna win!" Electra sang.
"Haven't a chance, haven't a chance, I'm gonna win it, yes I'm gonna win," Greaseball chanted, "I'm gonna win, I'm gonna win, I'm gonna beat you, I'm gonna beat you, I'm gonna win the race."
"I'll be victorious, I'm gonna win," Greaseball and Electra finished together.
The other nationals had emerged.
"Earth, water, air, fire," Rusty sang skating around the engines.
"You'll never win, you'll never win," the other engines chanted watching Rusty, "I'm gonna beat you, I'm gonna beat you."
"See the steam rise higher!" Rusty finished.
"Haven't a chance, haven't a chance," the engines chanted, "I'm gonna win it, yes I'm gonna win."
"Earth, water, air, fire," Rusty sang, ignoring the nationals.
"I'm gonna win, I'm gonna win, I'm gonna beat you."
"See the steam rise higher!" Rusty finished.
"I'm gonna win the race," the engines sang, "I'll be victorious, I'm gonna win."
"Lo-co-mo-tion," Greaseball and his gang chanted.
"Go ele-tri-city," Electra and his components chanted against Greaseball.
The trucks and coaches glared at each other, starting their debate again.
"It's mommas and poppas."
"It's commerce and hoppers."
"It's daughters and sons!"
"It's quarters and tons, they get in your hair."
"It's the fun of the fare!"
"Freight!"
"Folks!"
"Tares!"
"Fares! Passengers, commuters and mail."
"Trees and meat, gravel and shale."
The entire group formed a square and turned together.
"On the rails, on the rails, on the rails, on the rails," all sang, "Are great, are great, are great, are great, are great, are great, are great, are great, are... great!"
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