Ernest The Engine: Some Assembly Required (S3)

[Kurt K]

Ernest The Engine: Some Assembly Required

Season 3:
S3 E1: TRUST ALWAYS RUSTS
S3 E2: GOLDEN SPIKE, PART #1
S3 E3: GOLDEN SPIKE, PART #2
S3 E4: CHEWED OUT
S3 E5: KITBASHED
S3 E6: EGG SALAD, PART #1
S3 E7: EGG SALAD, PART #2
S3 E8: DEEP FRIED
S3 E9: TRACK TO THE FUTURE

* * *

Have you seen Slippy Sodor?
You haven't?
Good - read this instead. It doesn't have any overweight clowns in it.

...except the Large Controller.

Season #3, Episode #1:
TRUST ALWAYS RUSTS

Parody by:
Kurt Kaminer
Thomas Pearce
Tristan Garrett

----------------------------

It was a very special day at the Big Grimy Station. Mr. Carros Usados, the used car dealer from the mainland was coming. He could sell a car to anyone. Of course, the vehicles he sold rarely resembled cars.

Legend has it he has the biggest collection of Ladas you'll ever see.

Stevie and Gail were happy and excited, mainly because the script says so.

(Gail and Stevie look less then amused).
LOOK EXCITED, YOU NITWITS!

All except for Ernest. He had a cracked headlamp, and had been told to go to the works to get a new one. Unfortunately for Ernest, he liked his cracked headlamp, and didn't want to part with his treasured piece of antiquated rubbish.

At the Works, not a thing was huffing and puffing, because the Large Controller didn't want to pay anyone union wages. And when you don't pay anyone union wages...

"Hola, Ernesto!" called a workman.
"What?" asked Ernest, as he backed down the siding.
"Hola!"
"Oh, it's you, Joe. What's with the funny accent?"
Joe looked around nervously, dropped the accent, and whispered. "Ethnically diverse show, you know; it's the accent or the unemployment office." The accent returned. "So what do we need today, muchacho? Tickets to Sábado Gigante?"
Ernest didn't say a word.

After Ernest's headlamp was fixed, Ernest went to the docks to pick up a train of Mr. Usado's Used Cars. The Large Controller and Mr. Usado were waiting.
"Hola Ernesto!" called Mr. Usado.
"Huh? You too?"
"Cállese!" snapped Mr. Usado, knowing very well what Ernest meant.
"Ernest," began the Large Controller, "Mr. Usado needs his cars delivered to the fairgrounds where they'll be auctioned off later."
"All right," replied Ernest, "where are they?"
"Where are they? They're right here."
"All I see is scrap."
Mr. Usado spoke up. "Those are the cars, idiota."

Ernest was soon coupled up to the cars. Before he left, the Large Controller addressed him.
"Now, Ernest, you must be gentle with your train," he cautioned, "remember to puff slowly and carefully."
"What?" said Ernest, indignant, "Tell that to my driver. And I don't puff, you nit!"
"Never mind your driver," retorted the Large Controller, "just see to it that the cars don't fall apart on the way."

And with that, Ernest pulled off with a jolt - shattering the windows and sending the grille of a 1982 Econobox to the ground.

Ernest rolled down the line until he came to a level crossing that was blocked by some irate motorists. Stevie was conveniently there to mock Ernest.
"Hey, neatfreak!" called Stevie, "nice headlamp!"
Ernest didn't answer, and muscled his way through the crossing. Fenders and doors flew off Mr. Usado's - *AHEM!* - Reliable Used Cars.

The Large Controller, and Mr. Usato - traveling in the Controller's Fiat 500 - passed through the crossing seconds after, and drove right over a fender, sending the little Fiat flying...

...into a manure ditch. Even HiT Entertainment got that one right.

Ernest raced on, even though he wasn't racing anyone. The Large Controller and Mr. Usado caught up.

"Slow down, Ernest," yelled Mr. Usado, "the cars can't take it!"
Ernest saw them, but didn't see a red signal up ahead...and charged right through. More rusty auto parts flew everywhere, including a muffler that sent the Large Controller's car spinning into an old toolshed full of paint thinner.

Ernest had to hold back laughter.

The Large Controller sped off once again.

In primer.

It wasn't until Ernest arrived at the fairgrounds that the Controller and Mr. Usado caught up with him.

"Ernest," said Mr. Usado, "the cars look like basura!"
"You finally noticed!"
"Noticed nothing, you wrecked them!"
"The insurance will pay for them, muchacho! In the meantime, go sell them to your amigos!" said Ernest, motioning to the skeptical buyers surveying the cars on Ernest's flat cars.

A few buyers stepped forward.
"Do you honestly intend to sell this car?" asked one.
"Well, my friend, they don't make them like this today!"
"...and you can see why," muttered Ernest.
"I mean, look! She is built solid!" continued Mr. Usado, kicking the car's tire. Immediately, the wheels fell off and the car collapsed.
"You see? Optional lowrider package!"
A swarm of bees buzzed out from under the car in a mean rush.

"And if you purchase now," yelled Mr. Usado, as he ran off...




..."YOU CAN HAVE THE CHASSIS-MOUNTED WASPS' NEST FOR FREE!"

[Kurt K]

Is the Large Controller going to be rich?

Is the moon really made of green cheese?

Is there intelligent life in a guard's compartment?

Season #3, Episode #2:
GOLDEN SPIKE - PART 1


Plot by:
Ben Jenkins

Written by:
Kurt Kaminer
J.D. McHenry
Jonatan Grönoset


----------------------------

Ernest was enjoying a warm summer's morning, smashing freight cars around in the yard.

"OW, OW, OW! Don't do that!" screamed the trucks.
"Ok, I won't do 'that,'" said Ernest...

"...I'll do this!"

And he slammed the trucks again.

"OW! All right, we're sorry that we called you 'SpongeBob on rails!'"
*BANG*
"YEOW!"

Ernest chuckled. "Ah, nothing like a bent buffer to brighten the morning - so long as it isn't yours!"

Ernest marshaled the trucks in order, then set out onto the branch line, named so because it has many branches.

"OUCH!" yelled Ernest.

Low ones.

The cars giggled at this, but it made Ernest cross.
His driver tried to sooth him. "Stop getting your cylinders in a knot, Ernest!"
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm not!"
"But you are!"
"No, I'm not, and how do you get cylinders in a knot anyway?"
"How?"
"How."
"I don't know."
"Aha!"
"'Aha' what?"
"Aha, so you don't know!"
"I don't know what?"
"Who cares what?"
"I care!"
"You do? What a shame."
"Shame about what?"
"What you were talking about, that's what."
"What 'what' was I talking about?"
"That what!"
"What what?"
"That one!"
"Which one?"
"That one what, just then."
"Then when?"
"When? Just then; that which you were talking about, that's what."
"What?"
"I don't KNOW WHAT! I don't even know what we're TALKING ABOUT!"

*BANG!*

Ernest and his driver looked up, only to realize they had traveled down an abandoned siding from the branch line, and had plowed their train into a large dirt hill.

The Large Controller arrived on the scene.
In a wheelbarrow.

"Ernest," he said, "I've seen some sloppy...sloppy...oh, get me out of this thing, already!"
The porter yanked the wheelbarrow up, pitching the Large Controller face-first into the dirt.

"You bloody git!" yelled the Controller, "What's the idea?"
"What idea?"
"That idea!"
"Which idea-"
"Oh, forget it!" said the Large Controller, kicking a patch of dirt with his foot. A small stone ricocheted onto the side of Ernest, and landed back at the Large Controller's feet. Silence fell as the Large Controller stared at the rock for a moment, then picked it up.

"It's gold! Gold! GOLD!" shouted the Large Controller, who jumped up and did a little jig.
"Stop that," said Ernest. "You're making a ruddy imbecile of yourself."

"GOLD, GOLD, GOLD, GOLD, GOLD, GOLD, GOLD..." continued the transfixed Controller, who was so excited...

*SPLASH!*

...he danced straight into a nearby stream.

To be continued...

[Kurt K]

Season #3, Episode #3:
GOLDEN SPIKE - PART 2


Plot by:
Ben Jenkins

Written by:
Kurt Kaminer
J.D. McHenry
Jonatan Grönoset
Thomas Pearce
Tristan Garrett


----------------------------

"That's right, keep it moving, let's get them rocks rolling, pick up your step!"

...said the workman reclining in a La-Z-Boy, bossing Ernest and a host of miners around.

The mining had been going on for a week. It was the first time every single employee of the railroad had been made busy. Well, with exception to that armchair manager.

"YOWEEEE!!!!!!"

Until a spring broke through the leather.

"Well, now that's that," chuckled Ernest. "Now all we need is to convince the Large Controller that this gold business is absolutely ridiculous."
"It isn't ridiculous," retorted a familiar, pompous voice.
Ernest spun round, which was quite difficult, considering he is on rails.

"Ernest, how many times have I told you not to meddle in my business?"
"Probably about as many times as your projects have failed."
"Oh, bugger off. With the money I'll have now, I can hire myself some reliable engines that do what they're told!"
"Oh? Buying the Island of Sodor, are you?"
"Don't be smart."
"Ok, I'll be stupid."
"Don't be that either!"
"Then what do you want me to do?"
"I don't know!"
"You don't know?"

They were interrupted by a loud shouting.

"Mail for the FAT CONTROLLER!" yelled a workman.
"LARGE controller, you MORON!"
"Doesn't matter to me," said the workman, as he handed the Controller a letter.

The Large Controller opened the letter, and read it:

"SHUT UP, BOTH OF YOU!
Signed,
-The Narrator"

"Cheeky git."

"Listen here, Largie," began Ernest.
"Largie?" said the Controller, indignant.
"That's right - 'Largie.' To get back to my point, your little plan here is ridiculous, and will never work."
"I happen to agree with Ernest," commented Ernest's driver.
"Skeptics, are we? You can't argue with gold. I'll know it'll work, and you and your driver can each have two months paid vacation if it doesn't."
"It's a deal."
"Sold."

* * *

Much to the Large Controller's surprise, Ernest and his driver worked feverishly hard after that, helping the workmen mine all the gold from the hill in record time. The Controller was thrilled at his gondolas full of gold nuggets, and had been so eager that he had already spoken to a broker that had found him a buyer willing to purchase the entire load.

The buyer arrived on-site, the final day of mining. He wore blue pants, a blue jacket with red trim, and a blue cap.

Uh oh.

"Hello," he said in a suave voice, "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Conductor Baldwin from Shining Time."

Ernest nearly blew a gasket.
The Large Controller turned whiter then his lemon-scented laundry.

"Ah, I see that you have the gold ready," continued the man, oblivious to the fact that everyone within earshot was having a seizure. "It's a good thing too. I was running low on it, and I couldn't purchase it in dust form," he said, walking up to the gondolas and examining the gold. "You see, I bought this pulverizing machine-"

The man stopped.
The Large Controller regained consciousness.

"This is fool's gold!" bellowed Conductor Baldwin.
"Well, it certainly found one," muttered Ernest.
"I didn't come here all the way from my Magic Railroad for fool's gold! You can keep it, you cheat!"

And with that, the man left in his gold limo, and the Large Controller came back to life.

"Whew!" he said, wiping his brow, and breathing a sigh of relief.

"Sir?" asked Ernest.
"Yes, Ernest?"
"When will our vacation start?"

And at that, the Large Controller pitched backwards into the lake.

[Kurt K]

Season #3, Episode #1:
CHEWED OUT


By:
Kurt Kaminer
Thomas Pearce

----------------------------

"Ladies and gentlemen, this story is based on actual events. Though dates, times, and locations have been changed, very little remains of the original story, hence, it isn't particularly factual in the first place. Names have been changed to protect certain parties, who shall be henceforth classified as outright morons."

It was another peaceful day on the Large Controller's railway, if you can call the sound of air-cooled Volkswagens "peaceful." I need to make an appointment with my ear doctor.

Naturally, Ernest was out shunting cars - as always - and had just received a work order to deliver some organic furniture trucks to Rooms That Grow. Ernest enjoyed delivering to the furniture store, because he had to go on the street line. Ernest loved watching stupid motorists as they would attempt various harebrained schemes to pass him, hoping to shave 5 seconds off their commute.

Today, however, was going to be different. Ernest pushed his cars into the furniture store's siding, which was parallel with a second siding abutting the business next door - Sticky's Bubblegum & Camera Supply ("Get Stuck With Us!"). As Ernest's train was rather long, he had to sit on the points between both sidings, so that the trucks could be pushed forward as they were unloaded from the loading dock.

Just then, the proprietor of Sticky's - Will Sticky himself - came charging up to Ernest. He was tall, lanky, wore a pair of dollar-store bifocals, and had the disposition of a chalkboard being run through a cheese grater.
"Hey, you! What are you doing there?" he yelled.
"I'm delivering furnit-"
"I don't care!" bellowed the man, "you have no right to be there."
"I beg your pardon? This line is owned-"
"Shut up! I don't like your attitude! Either give me $20 to sit on that switch, or get lost!"
"My attitude? Twenty dollars? You must be daft! The Large Contro-"
"SHUT UP or GET LOST!"
"It doesn't matter, I'm leaving. Nevertheless, I wish to inform-"
"Eh, save your breath you lousy piece of steel..." said the man, as he walked off, muttering.

"Of all the insolent nerve!" boomed Ernest.
"Never mind, Ernest," said his driver, "the Large Controller will settle things."
"Maybe he will, but that doesn't excuse Sticky's conduct."

* * *

A few hours later, Ernest was shunting cars on the other side of the valley, when the Large Controller arrived via roller coaster.
"Hello, Ernest," said the Large Controller, "you sent a message?"
"Yes, I did - two hours ago. Did it get sent via carrier pigeon again?"
"No, carrier turtle."
"Carrier turtle?"
"Yes. The pigeons are on strike."

After arguing over courier services, Ernest explained what had happened that morning.
"Yes, I know," said the Large Controller, "he's an absolute menace to the entire block, but his lease isn't up until next June - I can't throw him out."
"Well, at least something needs to be done," said Ernest, earnestly. Why shouldn't Ernest be earnest? "Can't you do something underhanded and sneaky?"
"Ernest, have you known me to do anything like that?"
"Whenever you get the chance."
"I'll see about it."

And with that, the Large Controller left.

On the roller coaster.

Promptly upchucking his breakfast.

Ernest finished his shunting, and collected a string of cars to haul back to the yard across the hill. However, he hadn't noticed that a bent switch stand had snagged the cotter pins retaining his right-side brake shoes in place.

As Ernest crested the hill, his driver applied the brakes. The momentum of the heavy freight trucks and their Bluetooth headsets put a strain on Ernest's buffer, which was felt throughout the entire train. Suddenly, there was a sound of clattering metal, and Ernest began to pick up speed rapidly - his brake shoes had popped free, and the remaining shoes couldn't keep the freight cars from pushing against him.

"ON, ON, ON!" yelled the cars.
"Shut up!" yelled Ernest, "stop rallying!"
"We're not trying push, we're trying to start our Bluetooth headsets!" retorted the freight cars.

Ernest rocketed down the line, and flew through the diverging points into the business district, where he had been earlier that morning.
"HELP!" yelled Ernest, as a conga line of motorists drafted him at 70 miles per hour.

Just then, a mysterious figure threw a set of familiar points, sending Ernest flying through the roll-down delivery door of Sticky's Bubblegum. Ernest plowed through the warehouse, flinging boxes of bubble gum and expensive camera equipment everywhere. Ahead lay a big structural column which Ernest demolished, as he came to a stop.

Ernest breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank heaven that is over."

Then there was a rumbling sound...

"Uh, oh."

...as the roof fell in.

...then the walls.

...and the Sticky Bubblegum sign outside, which fell smack onto Mr. Sticky's personal VW beetle and 23-window microbus. Even a bicycle in a nearby rack was upset and began to roll away, downhill.

To add insult to injury, one of Ernest's boxcars burst open in pieces, to reveal a shipment of Marco Walton Manager Action Figures.

Sirens approached, and seconds later, a pile of rubble in a corner began to shudder, and out popped a very dusty Will Sticky. Sticky pointed his finger accusingly at Ernest, but before he could say anything, a voice boomed behind him.
"Ok, buddy, you're coming with us," it said, as a pair of hands proceeded to handcuff Sticky.
"You have no right to arrest me! I'm going to have the police escort you straight out of here!"
"We are the police, sir."
"Uh...you are?"
"Yes."
"I didn't do anything. What's the charge?"
"You failed to pay city waste taxes. It's a $20 dollar fine or spend a night in irons."

As Sticky stared in disbelief at the officer, a carrier pigeon dropped a present on his head.

* * *

Ernest wasn't the worse for wear, and was back in the sheds with Stevie and Gail that evening. He told them all about it.
"Ernest," said Stevie, "there's one thing that you haven't told us yet."
"Is there?"
"Yes. What happened to Will Sticky?"
"Oh, he probably paid the fine and went home."

Late at night, Will Sticky finally pulled up to his house - in a vehicle cobbled from his VW microbus and bug. As he came to a stop, the car cracked in half. He reluctantly got out.

"Stupid fine! Stupid lease!" commented Sticky.


...just as a riderless bicycle knocked him flat on his face.

[Kurt K]

Season #3, Episode #5:
KITBASHED


By:
Thomas Pearce
Kurt Kaminer
J.D. McHenry

Story editor:
Tristan Garrett

----------------------------

Mood music, please...

In the summertime, the Large Controller's Railway comes alive with the beauty of nature, such as the wholesome sounds of leaves rustling, brooks babbling, and birds tweeting.

...on Twitter.

Thankfully, if you are to venture down a siding just outside of town, you will be greeted by the industrial grinding and clanking of the Large Controller's Underpaid Rail Works, wherein the Large Controller was cooking up his next great failur-

Uh...masterpiece. The Steamliner.

The Steamliner was the Large Controller's latest contrivance to drum up business through retro rail travel. After all, what could be more retro then riding in surplus - ahem - refurbished OnTrak coaches? It was a tried and proven - to fail - technique.

Involving lots of duct tape.

A workman hammers the outside of the car's sheet metal. The hammer goes straight through the steel panel.

The Large Controller had even added a "Bistro-style" food service to the Steamliner, which meant you could buy a bag of Animal Crackers onboard.

Of course, one can't have a Steamliner without a steam engine, so the Large Controller stuck a funnel on Ernest, and had Stevie teach him how to say "WHEESH!" Fortunately, this didn't go over well with the historical societies...

...so they decided to use Gail instead.

Yet, in an unusual twist of fate, Gail couldn't make the debut, following a run-in with a truckload of frozen, Micky D cheeseburgers. The Large Controller was most pleased. Nom, nom, nom.

And so, it was settled - Stevie would take the Steamliner. Ironic, no?

Yes, it is ironic, because we say so. Go eat your popcorn.

Ernest was there to see Stevie off. Stevie's crew had done an absolutely superb job of shining him up for the event - they had spent the last hour cleaning the fast food crumbs off his cab floor.

"Well, all decked out in the pride of Penn Central, I see," remarked Ernest.
"What do you mean?" asked Stevie.
"You're flat black, and hideously grimy."
"Why you little-"

*TWEEEEEEEEETTTTTTT* sounded a guard's whistle.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" called out the Large Controller, on his podium.
"Oy, here we go again," quipped Ernest.
"I bring to you the finest throwback to the golden age of rail travel," continued the Controller.
"And the covered wagon days," whispered Ernest.
"...the STEAMLINER!"

A crowd of people who had gathered clapped unenthusiastically. The Controller hadn't paid them enough.

"The Steamliner is completely new," said the Large Controller, hoping to stir up enthusiasm.
"Yes, all two bolts worth."
"...and is equipped with air conditioning!"
"A rust hole in the floor."

"YAAAAHHHH!" yelled a voice from inside one of the cars.

"I told you not to stand that close to the rug!" snapped the Large Controller. "As I was saying, the Steamliner has all the comfort of our modern OnTrak trains."
"Of course. They have wheels."
"So take a ride in comfort, buy your tickets now!"
"...preferably with El Cheap-o Airlines."

Another loud crash was heard, this time from inside the combination dining-pantry-kitchen-dormitory-coach-sleeper-dome-observation car, as its couplers fell off, along with what was once a brake reservoir in a past life.

"Eh...we'll have that fixed in a jiffy," said the Controller, uneasily. The Controller bent down from the podium and spoke softly to the stationmaster. "Get me some zip ties and duct tape."

After the ducks had tie-wrapped the loose parts with tape, the Steamliner was ready to depart. Ernest watched as Stevie got ready, which he did by letting off copious amounts of steam.

"Cut it out, Stevie! I didn't ask for a facial!"

Stevie pulled proudly out of the station, and Ernest watched as the drumhead fell off the last coach with a crash.

Stevie was enjoying himself tremendously out on the open line. It was the first passenger train he had pulled in years.

And destined to be the last.

CLANK!

CLINK!

SMASH!

CRASH!

BASH!

AND OTHER WORDS FROM RHYMEZONE.COM!

The Steamliner coaches had fallen apart into pieces. Luckily, no one was hurt, except for the passengers with phony whiplash claims.

"Owww...my leg!" complained a passenger, who was promptly smacked in the face by his wife.
"It's your neck, you imbecile!"

Ernest was soon called to help, and came as quickly as he could - at 5mph.

"Scrap train?" teased Ernest.
"Never mind being funny, Ernest, just clear this mess," Stevie retorted.
"What about my leg?!" yelled the passenger.
"SHADDUP, IT'S YOUR NECK!"

Buses soon arrived to take the fuming passengers to a smoking area, and Ernest helped Stevie - and the remainder of the coaches - back to the yard.

"Well, well, that didn't last for long," remarked Ernest. "I dare say that if I had been pulling that train..."
"You don't have to brag about your reliability, Ernest."
"Why not? After all, I'm the most reliable and-"
"And who was responsible for wrecking the Large Controller's offices, the shed wall, a thrift store, two semi-trailers, three OnTrak coaches, one water tower, a boxcar, a lamppost, and a delicatessen!"
"Maybe so, but I still haven't broken down!"

Just then, Ernest's prime mover overheated.

But no matter. The Large Controller has replacement parts.




And lots of duct tape.

[Kurt K]

Season #3, Episode #6:
EGG SALAD - PART 1


By:
Thomas Pearce

Story editors:
Kurt Kaminer
J.D. McHenry
Tristan Garrett

----------------------------

It was another day on the Large Controller's Railway. What did you expect? Another night? You can't have night in the daytime, wise guy.

As usual, the sounds of tranquility were drowned out by the overabundant sound of air cooled goodness. Yep, another shipment of VW Bugs. Betcha you didn't see that coming.

You did? Eat your extra-butter-flavored-supersized-salted-fattening-American-popcorn and SHADDUP!

Due to another infamous pileup with the OnTrak service, Ernest had not only been forced to help clean up the scrap metal that morning, but was also forced to take the Chinese Take Out train. Again. Once the Railway had been littered with Egg Dropping Soup, the Large Controller then made him sort out the mess of OnTrak equipment in the coach yard. Of course, this put Ernest in his usual, jolly mood.

*CRASH*

"BLASTED PIECE OF RUBBISH!"

Ok, maybe not.

Yet another set of OnTrak Econo Coaches had derailed. Maintenance at its finest. If you're a monkey.

Just then, Stevie pulled in with another OnTrak passenger train.

"Ernest, I just pulled an OnTrak train down the entire line, with no incidents!" he exclaimed.
"Perhaps it's because the OnTrak decals peeled off of it."

Ernest and Stevie watched as an OnTrak decal, fluttering in the sky, came to rest on the Large Controller's Yugo, which was promptly - and simultaneously - front and rear-ended.

By a pair of Volkswagens. Sorry, Bentleys are out of season. Toyotas too. Stop asking questions or it'll be out with you.

The Large Controller was most upset about losing his little Yugo, primarily because the insurance company paid out exactly $7 for the totaled wreck.

But that night, after dozing off, he had an inspiration.

His grand vision showed him rolling around in all the money he had raked in, not to mention a Micky D's as being an integral part of his new 1,000 square-foot kitchen, complete with industrial-sized deep fryer. The railway was running like clockwork, and Ernest, Stevie, and Gail were happy. Passengers were enjoying their trips, and...

Oh, enough with that.

The next day, the Large Controller issued a new work order: All motive power and rolling stock would be brought in and polished up. Even the OnTrak Econo Coaches. Ernest couldn't believe his eyes. "The Large Controller must be up to another scheme again. Why, he's patched every hole in the floor with carpeting, and even touched-up the paint with primer!"

It didn't take long for Ernest, Gail, or Stevie to find what was going on, as our large dimwitted friend popped in that afternoon to inform them of his plans.

"Ernest, Gail, Stevie..." the Large Controller boomed, "I'm sure you are wondering why everything has been polished up and repaired."
"You're trying to help us pass another 'surprise' inspection?" asked Stevie.
"Don't be silly, Stevie, the Other Railway just bought him out," joked Ernest.
"Don't make jokes like that. Sir Fronts is a good friend of mine" quipped the Controller.
"Yes, I hear he buys most of his pirated DVD's from you." added Gail.
"Never mind that. We're having a Railfest," said the Large Controller, with all the faux pride and pomp he could muster.
"A Railwhat?" asked Gail.
"A Railfest," corrected the Controller. "Every year, there is a big show in Altoona, Pennsylvania. The railroad preservation societies host nearly a week's worth of excursions and other rail events for the public to enjoy..."

And so began the Large Controller's Railfest 2010.

Part 2...coming up!

[Kurt K]

Season #3, Episode #7:
EGG SALAD - PART 2

By:
Thomas Pearce

Story editors:
Kurt Kaminer
J.D. McHenry
Tristan Garrett

----------------------------

Everyone was getting ready for Railfest 2010. While the Large Controller set about "borrowing" a few passenger cars from competitor Amcrap, our triumphant trio was left to shunt all the visiting equipment in place, including the primer grey junk ALCO that Mr. Usado, the used car man, had picked up in a trade.

"Oye, amigos! She is'a beautiful, eh? I make you a good price on her!"

With that, our dimwitted Controller friend retreated back to his warm and cozy apartment and awaited the big day - but not before moving out, because he hadn't paid his rent.

Or his "big day" rent-an-audience.

Nevertheless, this didn't faze the Large Controller, who quickly took to the podium - which started to fall apart before he said a word.
"Ladies and gentlemen..."
*creak*
"...welcome to..."
*squeak*
"...our first ever..."
*groan*
"...Railfest!"
*CRASH!* ...and the platform came tumbling down. Even the Large Controller can't buy out termites.

With that, the Railfest began. The first train of the day was a display of various vintage - that is, rotten - freight cars. Of course, one little detail had been overlooked: The reefer car, which had not been serviced in two days, was still loaded with a shipment of what had been frozen shrimp.

Oh, and that shipment was supposed to be delivered three weeks ago.

The few patrons that had shown up didn't overlook this fact.

"Do you smell a smell?"
"Yes, unfortunately."

Even the new Steamliner - despite having been deemed a failure - was on display; what was left of it. A few other visiting locomotives paraded past...

...followed by an Eggliner.

However, nobody knew that the Eggliner wasn't supposed to be there. It had rolled away due to the crew's forgetfulness - not to mention a few bottles of Schnapps - and was heading straight for Stevie and the Steamliner.

"Ernest," asked Gail, "did you order an egg salad?"
Ernest stopped gabbing and stared. "What on earth would make you say th- STEVIE, WATCH OUT! FATSO, THE EGG IS ON A ROLL! STOP IT!"

At the words "egg" and "roll," the Large Controller dropped his microphone quick enough to throw the points ahead of the Eggliner.

Too bad they lead to the main line.

All the while, nobody had noticed that the Eggliner did have an occupant, who had been taking in a few bottles of Schnapps himself. It was none other then the town drunk, Stoned Burnett. You might remember him from "Ernest & The Manic Railroad," and if you don't, you better go watch that movie right now.

Burnett had dozed off, but the motion of the Eggliner had knocked him to. "Hmm, this thing shouldn't be rolling unatten - HIC! - attend - HIC! - eddedededididio." With that, Burnett went about getting the Eggliner back under control, if he could find the brakes. One perplexing problem still existed though: Which end was front?

Despite his intoxicated state, he knew he had to do something, anything, to stop the directionally challenged locomotive. Fighting both the controls and his hangover, Burnett finally managed to hit something, because the Eggliner lurched to a stop. Burnett gasped a breath of relief...

...and was promptly thrown to the other end of the car, as it took off at full speed in the direction it had come from. He had hit the reverse button.

Burnett was thrown around like a ping-pong ball on the Large Controller's fine trackwork - lovingly serviced with hammers and duct tape - but don't worry, more confusion and delay was yet to come.

The Eggliner, and a sufficiently scared-out-of-as-much-wits-as-you-can-when-you're-drunk Burnett rolled right back through the opened lead, onto the display track, and careened straight into its own viewing platform, sending wood planks in every direction, setting off a chain reaction. The Steamliner cars, pelted with the wood planks, began to roll backwards.

Fast.

Faster.

Faster then that.

Until they ran straight into, and effectively demolished the reefer car. Patrons that had not left the Railfest early were now running around madly, trying to evade the shower of wood splinters and flying shrimp. This was one free meal even the Large Controller even bailed on.

The Eggliner had since come to a halt, and so did Burnett. Flat on his face. Everyone who had not run from the mayhem rushed to the Eggliner to find Burnett on the floor, mumbling something about "NASA...and their crazy space thingamaboobies."

* * *

And with that, the Railfest ended. Yet, for some reason - unknown to us or humankind - the Large Controller was so pleased with Burnett that he gave him his old railway job back.

But Burnett didn't take it. A Hollywood production company called All-Croft had offered him a million-dollar contract to be stuntman for their new railroad movie.






And that's how Stoned Burnett became Peter Fond - uh - Burnett Stone.

[Kurt K]

Season #3, Episode #8:
DEEP FRIED


Story by:
Kurt Kaminer

Story editor:
Thomas Pearce


----------------------------

Ernest and Company were idling at the yards when Stevie piped up.

"You know, the Large Controller hasn't been himself lately."
"How so?" asked Gail. Ernest took an interest too.
"Well, he's been telling everybody that they've been causing 'confusion and delay.'"

Ernest and Gail were deeply shocked. They could hardly believe what Stevie had said, even during rehearsal.

"Are you sure it was the Large Controller, Stevie?"
"Do you know of anyone else who mucks about in seedy grey tuxedo, canary yellow trousers, and a top hat?"
"Uh, his stunt double?"
"Oh, shut up."

This didn't prevent the engines from entering into a heated discussion about bow ties, plaid pants, and science fiction characters who wear celery in their lapels.

Just then, the Large Controller himself drove up in a shiny, new, blue car.
"Rental?" asked Stevie.
"No, indeed! I just bought it brand-new! It's brand new!"
"All right, all right, it's 'brand new,'" replied Stevie. "I believe you."

Of course, nobody did.

The Large Controller turned to Ernest.
"Ernest, I have a job for you," he said, as he motioned to a flatcar nearby, "I need you to take this obviously open oil barrel - in this obviously open flatcar - to the vicar's Sunday school event at once. They are having their annual French Fry Eating Contest."
"Are you out of your mind? The oil is sure to fall out."
"That's why you must pull it slowly and carefully."
Ernest couldn't believe his nonexistent ears. "Slowly and carefully? Did Jeeves spike your tea today?"
"Ernest, you will do what I tell you to do!" boomed the Large Controller.
"All right! All right!" replied Ernest.

And with that, Ernest backed onto the flatcar with a bang, causing oil to spill all over the Large Controller.

"Sorry!" mocked Ernest, pulling away.

The vicar's French Fry Contest was at none other than Micky D's, the only place where college kids could find work, and use their iPhones simultaneously. The Large Controller was the biggest sponsor of the event. Word has it they let him eat the leftovers.

Just then, Ernest saw the Large Controller at a level crossing, in his AMC Pacer. Ernest was rather surprised to see the Large Controller so soon again, and in a different vehicle. Ernest was just about to make a snide remark when the Controller jumped out of the car.

"ERNEST! STOP!"

Ernest did - and invariably splattered oil over everything once again.

The Large Controller was furious. "Look at what you've done to my two-dollar suit!"
"It was already ruined this morning," replied Ernest.
"It was not, and what are you doing carrying oil around in an open barrel?"
"You told me to!"
"I did not! Now go take that flat car back to the yards, and the oil with it!"

Ernest reluctantly reversed back to the yards, feeling quite puzzled.

But just then...

"ERNEST! STOP!"

Ernest came to a halt. More oil splattered, and there was the Large Controller under another layer of oil.

"Ernest, what are you doing here?" he boomed.
"What am I doing here? What are you doi-"
"Never mind me, you're supposed to take that to the contest."
"But you just said-"
"I told you to take it to the contest. Please take it there."
"But..."
"Really useful engines do as they're told."

Ernest was horrified and astonished. Disturbed and unsettled. Stunned and startled. Caught and released. Polished and waxed.

Who invited Michael Brandon?

Still in a state of shock, Ernest rolled to the contest without a word.

Until...

"ERNEST! STOP!"

And he did, spilling what was left all over the Large Controller, again.
"Ernest, what's got into you?" asked the Controller.
"What's got into you?"
"We'll soon find out, because we're both going to the yard to talk about this," he said, climbing up to Ernest's cab.

The Large Controller, Ernest, and the flatcar backed down to the yard where Stevie and Gail had been since that morning.

"All right, Ernest," said the Large Controller, "let's have your side to this." Gail and Stevie rolled forward to listen in.
"Sir," said Ernest, "ever since you came to the yard this morning, I've been trying to get this oil delivered to the vicar's French Fry Eating Championship, like you told me to."
"Like I told you to do? Ernest, I was sent a letter saying that it was postponed until next Sunday."
"That's not what you told me when you pulled up in your new car this morning."
"New car? I didn't buy a new car."

There was a long silence. The four exchanged glances as the Large Controller walked past the Large Controller.

Ernest stared in disbelief. "Huh? Isn't one Controller bad enough?"

The Controller turned to see what Ernest was mumbling about. "Ernest, I'm not interested in looking at myself in the mirror right now. What I want-"

Then it hit him.

No, not like a baseball, you fool.

"It's Sir Topham Hatt of Sodor," yelled the Controller. "GET HIM! GET HIM!"

Sir Topham, who was running as fast as his feet could carry his overweight self, reversed his jacket from grey to black and disappeared behind the sheds, as an unfamiliar whistle sounded. Everyone stared to see a bright red locomotive quickly accelerating from a cloud of steam. The Large Controller jumped onto Ernest's footplate, and the chase began.

Ernest, Stevie, and Gail chased Sir Topham and James all the way off the mainland, right up to that all-important bridge leading to Sodor.

"...AND STAY OUT!" yelled the Controller.

Everyone congratulated themselves on having discovered and eliminated their deceptive visitor, until Ernest remembered the French Fry contest.

"Sir," said Ernest, "Topham must have forged that letter that you received. What are we going to do about the vicar and the party?"
"Ernest, I don't know," said the Large Controller, sadly. "What would we use to fry the potatoes?"
"Well..." thought Ernest,





"...I'm due for an oil change."

[Kurt K]

Season #3, Episode #9:
TRACK TO THE FUTURE


Story by:
Kurt Kaminer

Story editor:
Thomas Pearce


----------------------------
It was a beautiful day on the Large Controller's railway.

Yes, the script called for it.

Ernest and Stevie were in the yard, joking about the Large Controller's smashed Yugo, when they heard a strange whirring sound approaching.
"Ernest, do you hear something?" said Stevie.
"Yes, I do - but what is it?"
"I don't know. Got any ideas?"
"Washing machine?"
"I don't see any nearby."
"Hmm. Maybe a Volvo?"

...and without warning, the Large Controller zoomed into the yards with a DeLorean.

"Yep, a Volvo."

The DeLorean's door swung upwards, and the Controller stepped out.
"Doc Brown, I presume," said Stevie.
"Like it?" asked the Controller, wiping the fender.
"Oh, um - yes. It looks very - erm - aerodynamic," said Stevie.
"Like a bottle of Listerine," Ernest interjected.
The Large Controller ignored Ernest. "I just bought it from Mr. Usado, the car dealer."
"Oh? You ought to send it back," quipped Ernest.
"Ernest..."
"All right, I know when my opinion isn't wanted."
"No, you have a right to your opinion. Now shut up!"

"Sir," asked Stevie, "what are you going to do with the Yugo?"
"eBay it."
"Sorry I asked."

The Large Controller turned to Ernest.

"Ernest, would you take that Yugo to my scrapyard while I visit with Lloyd's of London? I'm going to speak to them about insuring the railway."
"All 10 dollars of it?"
"Yes, I'll see about insuring you too. Now be off."

The Large Controller powered off with a stainless steel backfire, and Ernest pulled the Yugo away on a flatcar. Stevie was left alone with his crew.

"Aye, Stehevy, thyme t' be gettin t' 4:00 OnTrack spress, read'e, eh?" asked his driver.
"What?"
"Th' Express, you fool."
"Huh?"

*CRASH* - a door fell off a nearby coach.

"Oh, yes, the 4:00 OnTrak Express. You and your blithering Scottish accent."

* * *

A couple of tack welds later, Stevie arrived promptly - 4:30 - at the recently renamed Big Large Station. The passengers were herded into the coaches, and the guard checked to see that no one was standing over any carpeted holes in the floor.

*YAAAAHHHHH!!!!*

Well, almost.

Two pounds of Bondo later, they were ready. The guard slammed the doors, which fell off; waved his green flag, which tore; blew his whistle, which exploded in his face; and Stevie set off.

Meanwhile, the Large Controller was heading back to the yards after having met with Lloyd's, quite upset at the fact that they were only willing to insure the railroad for half its full value. Five dollars. Consequently, he wasn't particularly paying attention to where he was going.

It didn't help that he was driving backwards.

Worse yet, just ahead - or behind, depending on how you look at it - was a spike strip, left over from a police chase three weeks ago. In fact, the police had been two weeks late to start with, so they never did catch anyone in the first place.

Until now.

*BANG!*

The steel belted treads on the DeLorean blew out immediately. The car careened off the road into a pile of old tires, which made it ricochet onto one of the Large Controller's nearby grade crossings. The car came to rest with all four rims latched onto the rails.

"Oh, bugger," remarked the Controller

*DING-DING-DING-DING-DING-DING-DING...*

"Oh, BUGGER."

The Large Controller took one look in his rear view mirror, and froze solid to see Stevie plowing down the line with the OnTrak Express.

Stevie whistled a warning, but it was too late. He plowed into the old tires strewn over the line, and slammed the rear of the DeLorean with his newfound rubber bumper. The Large Controller, Stevie, and the tires shot forward down the line at 60 miles an hour.

"STEVIE, STOP!"
"I can't! My crew are watching the Super Bowl on their laptop!"

Ernest and Gail were trackside as Stevie and the Controller flew by at an alarming rate.
"What on earth are they up to?" Gail exclaimed.
"Oh, probably a science experiment."

A signalman, on duty for a change, saw the runaway hurtling towards the city, and promptly threw the points for the diverging route - which so happened to be an old, abandoned branch line.

With a dead end. At the steep edge of a gully.

Well, the signalman couldn't have known. Yea, right.

Stevie and the Large Controller careened down the branch line, as the signalman went back to watching "Doctor Who Performs A Triple Bypass."

"Stevie, is the video over yet?" yelled the Large Controller.
"It's almost halftime, sir!"

The seconds passed by like hours. Then...

"STEVIE, that's the end of the line!" said the Large Controller, pointing to the fast-approaching gully.
"Let 'er rip!" yelled Stevie, as his driver came to and slammed on the brakes. Stevie put all his weight and steam against the passenger cars...

...and stopped just before the edge.

But the DeLorean didn't. The DeLorean and the Large Controller rolled right off the rails and careened down the steep side of the gully straight down to the bottom, where what was left of the DeLorean came to a stop with a jerk.

Then the jerk got out.

A dizzy Large Controller flung open the driver's gullwing door, which broke off it's hinges and fell off.

"Stevie..."

"Uh, sorry, sir!"

* * *

And so, the insurance company ended up paying out on the very first day of the policy.


All one dollar's worth.

[Kurt K]

"It ONLY took a year to finish the final story in Season #3, Ernest..."
"Shut up."


Season #3, Episode #10:
MOTHBALLS

Story by:
Kurt Kaminer
Thomas Pearce

Based on a concept by:
J. G. M. Hunter

Accuracy Consultant:
Simon Martin

Special thanks to
ProfessorVengance

----------------------------

With the opening of a brand-new tuna factory on the west branch of the Large Controller's railway, Ernest, Stevie, and Gail found themselves with more work than they could have possibly imagined. Fish trains were in high demand, and the three engines had to work hard for a change.

Even the OnTrak Express had to be hauled by leased engines.

"OY! Spamcan, stop pushing!"

The Large Controller was in a quandary. He was making more money each week than he had in 5 years; yet, he was too cheap to buy a good locomotive. In desperation, he visited Mr. Usado, who had traded in his shady used cars for some shady used locomotives.

"Look at these, amigo!" said Mr. Usado, pointing to a row of primer-gray diesels. "These engines; they muy bien!"
The Large Controller surveyed the lot.
"No...no...no...no-what?"

A small, black tank engine - number #110, was staring at him. It had six small wheels, a short, stumpy funnel; a short, stumpy dome; and a short, stumpy personality.

"Absolutely not!" bellowed the Large Controller.

Little did anyone realize all was to change a week later. Ernest was hauling a long train of Stinky's Tuna from the plant, making good time, when the scriptwriters realized that Ernest should never make good time - and thereby upset a set of points under him, pitching him off the rails and into the brambles aside the tracks.

"OUCH!" exclaimed Ernest.
"WHO is attempting to violate my tender?!" screamed out an unfamiliar voice.
Ernest, not able to see a thing, was puzzled. "I beg your pardon, is someone here?"
"The nerve! Remove your offensive profile from my bunker, rank commoner!"
"It might interest you to know that I'd like nothing more than to do just that, except for the fact that I didn't bring my rails with me."
"Thou shall do what I say!"
"Thee shall now tell thou to 'can it!'"

It turned out that Ernest was in the backlot of the Old Toast Railway Museum, and had crashed into the tender of a steam locomotive that had been left to rust in the nearby woods.

Word of Ernest's derailment reached the Large Controller, who promptly arrived on the scene via a Tarzan vine.

"AH-ha-E-a AHHH, AH-ha-E-a," he yelled...

...as he smashed into the back of a brakevan.

The Large Controller flicked off his acquired rust and walked towards the wreckage. Ernest watched as the Controller looked over the old locomotive, then spied the museum's curator nearby.
"Eeets dis!" said the Large Controller, holding his nose over the stench of spoiled tuna.
"What?" replied the curator.
"EEETS DIS!"
"Huh?"
The Large Controller let go of his schnoz. "I said, 'what's this?'"
"This old rustbucket? It's Princess; an old Dean Single. One of our volunteers tried to restore her twenty years ago and went crazy halfway through the project. Nobody knows why. Not that it matters; it looks like she's finished."
"Oh, a scrap dealer would give you a good price on 'er," said the Large Controller.
"Where am I to find a scrap dealer?" inquired the curator.
"How do you do?" replied the Large Controller.

After a handshake and ten dollars later, the Large Controller became the owner of 5 tons of Craigslist-worthy rust that smelled of fish sticks.

Ernest didn't like what he saw. "Just what are you up to?"
"We need another locomotive. Now we have it."
"This old bag?"
"OLD BAG?!" screamed Princess in shock - "I'll have you know that I am royalty! The highest royalty! I am the Princess Emmiline DeOro."
"Am I supposed to be impressed?" inquired Ernest?
"Oh, never mind, there is no use in explaining important things to peasants such as yourselves."
"I'll leave you two to get acquainted," said the Large Controller over the bickering. "In the meantime, I'm going home to have some gourmet cooking."
"Gourmet?" inquired Princess.
"He means 'saltine crackers.'"

A week later, Princess was in the sheds, along with the Large Controller's entire shop crew - who would have run out from the aging stench of tuna, had he not nailed their shoes to the floor.

"Listen up!" called the Large Controller, "I need action, and I need it now. This locomotive must be rebuilt in two weeks. Any questions?"
A workman raised his hand.
"Yes, Stewart?"
"Can we call for Chinese take-out now?"

Before the Large Controller could say "sweet and sour," Princess pierced the room with a shriek.

"FIX ME, NOW! I'M SPECIAL! SPECIAL, SPECIAL, SPECIAL!"

"Yea - as special as an OnTrak coach, Princess." yelled a workman. "Fetch me the duct tape, Steve!"
"NOOO!" wailed Princess.

Two weeks later, Princess was ready for showtime, and had been parked for unveiling at the Large Controller's brand-new Museum Station. The station was gleaming with brand-new paint, put there two days ago, at the same time that the Large Controller kicked Stoned Burnett out of it. Did I mention the station had been abandoned for 20 years?

Ernest and Gail were there too, as involuntary guests - by order of the Large Controller. A surprising number of people were on the platform as well, which startled the Large Controller - he hadn't purchased himself a backup audience.

Princess was admiring herself.
"I'm the finest engine on the line," she purred. "Look at me."
"I'd rather not," quipped Ernest. "I just had my oil changed."

Just then, the Large Controller appeared on his podium.

"Ladies and gentlemen..."
"Oh, just get to the ribbon-cutting already!" yelled Ernest.

The Large Controller glared at Ernest, as the crowd erupted with a mighty cheer and SiF signs.
"Just what I need," muttered the Large Controller, softly. "A bunch of steam foamers."

"Very well," announced the Large Controller in his normal voice, "let Princess' first run begin!"

The Large Controller took a bottle of champagne and tossed it at Princess' buffer beam. Princess shrieked as the glass shattered.

"MY WHEEL IS SCRATCHED! MY WHEEL IS SCRATCHED!" bellowed Princess.

Ernest and Gail stared at each other. Then they stared at Princess.



"SHE'S A GIT ENTERTAINMENT SPY!!!"

To be continued in Season #4...