User:Goldenbear

Hi, I'm Goldenbear (also known as "Volcanicdoomfire" or "Lord Willoughby Marmaduke Archibald Franz XIV, but you can call me (insert name here)"). I come from New Zealand. Yeah. . . When I was four (or five, I dunno), my folks gave me a copy of the "Thomas Complete Collection", which I used to teach myself to read.

My favourite characters are Sir Handel (before he got HiT-ified), Oliver and Toby.

=My fanfics=

James and the Rainbow
JAMES AND THE RAINBOW - based on "Thomas and the Rainbow"

There had been a storm on the Island of Sodor. The lines and roads were littered by trees, branches and telephone poles.

The Fat Controller came to the sheds. “The lines are blocked by all kinds of rubbish from the storm,” he said, “and you all need to do your part to clean up. James, you are to take workmen around the island to fix telephone poles.” “Yes sir!” James cried, and puffed away.

As James steamed into Brendam, he saw something that amazed him.

“Wow,” he gasped, looking up at the sky. There stretched an arc of beautiful colours. “It’s so pretty! Green and yellow and red and blue. . . Amazing!”

Salty oiled up, pulling the recycling train. “Arr,” he grinned. “Thart be a rainbow, laddie. Th’ stories say, thart at th’ end o’ th’ rainbow, thar be a pot o’ gold.” He tooted his horn, and left.

James was thinking. “Imagine what I could do with a pot of gold!” he chuffed. “I’d be the best engine on Sodor! I’ve got to find it first!” And before Driver could check him, he steamed off eagerly.

James rushed to Knapford and Tidmouth, trying to catch the rainbow, but it was always just out of his reach.

But then, as he was coming up the hill, he saw something glinting at the top. “The rainbow!” he exclaimed, and thundered up the hill.

You can imagine his disappointment when James came round the bend and saw the rainbow had suddenly moved towards Maron. “Argh!” James growled, and sped off down the hill. So fast, in fact, that he didn’t hear his driver shout, “Slow down!”

Up ahead was a signalbox. The signalman was making a cup of tea and had forgotten the points were switched away from the main line. He heard James rumble through, but thought James was still going on his way to Maron. He didn’t realise James was running along an old siding.

A telephone pole ahead had been knocked over in the storm. When James’ crew saw it, they applied the brakes, but it was too late. James ran into the pole, jerked, and derailed. No one was hurt, but James was unable to move.

There was a line ahead where Percy was chuffing merrily along. “Percy!” James whistled. “Help!”

But Percy did nothing.

“He mustn’t have heard,” James groaned.

But, as a matter of fact, Percy had heard James. When he reached Maron, his driver phoned Wellsworth, and within minutes, Edward was racing along with the breakdown train.

James was soon levered back onto the rails, and completed his job without anymore mishaps. But secretly, James was upset he didn’t find the pot of gold.

Then, as James approached Tidmouth, he saw the rainbow had moved behind the sheds. “Ooh!” he exclaimed, and raced over. When he got there, he saw all the engine s in the sheds, admiring the rainbow. Then, James realised. “I’ve found something better than a pot of gold!” he cried. “My friends!” And he puffed over to enjoy the rainbow with all his friends.

=My parodies=

Better Late Than Never
BETTER LATE THAN NEVER - A parody of the aforementioned tale

It was a beautiful day on the Island of Sodor, but who gives a toss? The viaduct on the main line needed repairs, but Tubby, that greedy old git, didn't want the railway to close while repairs were carried out. Now, before you pester me asking why the viaduct needed repairs, I will tell you I have no idea. Although I did hear Fatty went on a binge at Mr. Jolly's a while ago. ..

"Oi! I 'eard thart!"


 * Blue Screen of Death appears*

Five weeks later. . . Hello. I am Mr. Who, and I will be narrating the remainder of Series Two in Mr. Starr's. . . er. . . absence. I must say, it certainly is an honour to be working in the adaptation of the world's most popular railway series and. . . oh knickers, are we recording? Er. ..

Well, anyway, Thomas was incredibly ticked off about this, and naturally, he starting moaning.

"Time's time," he grumbled. "Why should I keep my favourite shed . . . er, I mean, my passengers, waiting while Henry and James dawdle about all day on viaducts?"

One day, Henry snapped. "SHADDUPAYAFACE!!" he roared as he puffed into the junction one day.

Thomas was confused. "I didn't say anything yet," he replied.

"Well," huffed Henry, "sure as heck you're gonna say 'blah blah Henry why are you so late blah blah'. Let me tell you something. If I hurried across that viaduct like there was no tomorrow, it would collapse. What would you do then?"

"Get to my favourite shed . . . er, run my trains on time for one thing," retorted Thomas. He puffed away before Henry could answer. Which is fortunate, because Henry knows a lot of dirty words from his days at Crewe.

At the Top Station, Bertie was supposed to come in just after Thomas. However, his passengers soon found that instead of going straight to Annie and Clarabel (or straight from Bertie to the loo then to Annie and Clarabel as much of them were concerned), they had to wait on the platform for quite a while.

One day, Bertie fell asleep waiting for Thomas. When Thomas came in and peeped, Bertie jumped. "Where's the fire?" he blurted. Then he saw Thomas. "Ten minutes and thirty-nine seconds late," he grinned cheekily. "I thought you could go fast, Thomas. How about another race? I could easily beat you now."

Thomas went bluer than ever. "Bull****!" he snorted. "I'd still beat you any day, even with Blobby on board. It's those bleeding main line engines. They stuff about on their bleeding viaduct and blame the bleeding workman or bleeding Richard M. Nixon, depending on the bleeding weather. They're just bleeding lazy, I tells you."

One bleeding day, sorry, one day, James was later than ever. He'd better come with a good excuse, for his sake.

"Sorry I'm late, Thomas," James said, coming up with a good excuse, for his sake. "I was held up at the station, and the viaduct made it worse."

"It's lucky for you I'm a guaranteed connection," Thomas snorted, and puffed away before James could even think of a remark to reply with.

Thomas hurried to all the stations, but couldn't save much time. I mean, for pete's sake, he's heavier than Daisy!

They were nearing the tunnel when they saw something red on the road. For once, it wasn't roadkill.

"That's Bertie," thought Thomas. "What the heck is he doing here?"

He puffed up. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"That moron at the petrol pump gave me the wrong stuff," groaned Bertie. "Driver doesn't know how to make it better, and I'm all upset inside - well, except for the part that feels ****** off."

Thomas felt sorry for Bertie, even though he had cussed, to which Thomas was very opposed. "I'll take your passengers home for you," he offered. "Unless you want them to walk home."

Bertie did, but Thomas took them home anyway.

A few days later, Thomas was having a drink when Bertie came up. "Thanks for helping," he said. "How can I ever repay you?"

"Race me again," Thomas replied instantaneously.

"Except that," finished Bertie.

"Oh, afraid, are you?"

"Pah! Buses aren't frightened of anything!" Then Bertie saw something small and black creeping towards him. "ARGH! SPIDER!" he cried, and hurried away.

Thomas laughed, when suddenly Percy came up, covered from funnel to cab with lime. Believe it or not, Percy had stupidly rushed across the viaduct, fallen off, and landed in Bulstrode, who had just been repaired and was taking his first load, a tonne of lime, downstream.

"Hi Thomas!" he puffed. "Like my new paint job, Thomas? Thomas? What's that wet patch underneath your watertank, Thomas?"

Duck's Dream
A parody by me!

Narrated by Michael Brandon

It was a beautiful day on Sodor. All of the engines were resting in the Sheds when the Fat Controller arrived.

“Thomash an’ Duck, but moshtly Thomash,” he said, “you are t’ take shome trucksh t’ th’ Transhfer Yardsh. You both will need to pick up cowsh at Farmer McColl’sh, shteel from th’ Shmeltersh, an’ oil from th’ Docksh. But you musht do it carefully, or th’ children will be shad!”

“What’s a children?” Percy interrupted.

“A children is a group of young people aged under 13,” Thomas said proudly. “Then, they turn into teenagers.”

“I see,” said Percy happily. Then he asked, “What’s a teenager?”

“A teenager is a nearly-growned up person who causes confusion and delay when they are naughty, Percy.”

“What’s a Percy?” asked Percy, but Thomas was puffing to get his coachzzzz. . . zzz. . . zzz. . . . I mean, trucks.

So Thomas and Duck puffed to Knapford, where they had lots and lots of fun biffing and banging the trucks into place. Then they set off.

Thomas was impatient. “Let’s do it really quickly,” he said. “Then the Fat Controller will say we are Really Useful Engines.”

Duck didn’t want to. “I don’t want to,” he said. “The Fat Controller said we must do it carefully.”

“Don’t worry!” smiled Thomas. “He won’t find out, and he will say we are Really Useful Engines.”

So Duck agreed, and they set off. . . I mean, went faster.

Zzz. . . zzz. . . Ah, so anyway, they came to some points. But they had been going so fast that the signalman hadn’t switched the points, and Thomas, who was in front, came off the rails. Luckily, no one was hurt.

The Fat Controller soon arrived. “Thomash,” he thundered, ‘you have caushed confushion an’ delay!” He turned to Duck. “Duck,” he said, “you musht take th’ rest o’ the trucksh to the Transhfer Yardsh. You musht make up for losht time, or th’ children will be shad!”

Duck was confused. “But Sir,” he said, “you told us we must be very careful.”

“Do you want to go t’ th’ storage cupboard?” rumbled the Fat Controller. “I mean. . . Really Usheful Enginesh doun’t argue!”

So Duck went as carefully and as fast as he could, and he reached the Transfer Yards just in time.

Rusty waited as Duck’s goods were lowered into her train. “Thank you, Duck,” she smiled, and tooted her horn and left, unfortunately scaring Skarloey, who was just puffing in.

When Duck got home, he was surprised to a new engine in the shed. She was green, and had big wheels. All the engines were looking at her adoringly. “Bite me!” she snarled.

But the engines didn’t care. “We love you, sweetest, kindest, most lovable and kindest Emily!” they cried.

Duck woke up, screaming and sweating. Then he saw the Fat Controller. “Oh, thank you goodness you’re here, Sir,” he panted. “I had this awful nightmare where you spoke like you were drunk and Thomas did all the work and Percy was dumb and Thomas was careless and didn’t get hurt and caused confusion and delay and the children were almost sad because Thomas had an accident and there was a storage cupboard and Rusty was a girl and Skarloey was a wuss and everyone worshipped some bimbo with big wheels and an attitude problem!”

The Fat Controller looked sheepish. “Ah, yesh, Duck,” he said in his slurred accent, “about thart. . . ”