Chapter Text
Poppa settled down by the warm amber glow of the sunset, breathing in the cool evening air and the thick perfume of honeysuckle. It was Christmas Eve. Poppa didn’t know too much about human holidays but he always did appreciate Christmas. The rolling stock of the yard would always give gifts and spend time together; it was Poppa’s favourite time of year.
As he looked up at the dimly lit sky, a single snowflake danced onto his nose and melted. Soon the sky was a ballroom of snowflakes, all of them waltzing in the cold winter air. He chuckled to himself as he looked around. The Rockies were all asleep, but where were Flat-Top and Dustin? Surely they would’ve come back by now, right?
A sudden screech alerted him. It was Rusty! He had been pulling Flat-Top and Dustin. Why were they in such a rush? They all seemed rather ruffled and disturbed, he wondered why...
“Poppa! POPPA!”
Rusty whizzed over to him with an expression of pure fear
“What’s wrong Rusty? Did something happen…”
Flat-Top barged into Rusty and blurted out
“WE FUCKING KILLED SANTA CLAUS!”
“...WHAT!?”
Dustin barged into them both, panting
“No no no! Santa’s fine, just in a coma. Look!”
Santa had been inside the hopper all along. His limp body flopped onto the ground as Dustin tipped him out. Poppa observed the body as carefully as he could.
The side of his head seemed badly bruised, probably a nasty concussion.
“How did this happen?”
Flat-Top seemed to step back and blush.
“Flat-Top? Did you do something?”
Poppa bellowed as he glared right into Flat-Top’s stupid fucking eyes. The little bitch had probably done it on purpose.
“I-I...let me explain.”
Flat-Top swallowed and sat down, wiping away the train-sweat from his brow.
“Ok ok, hear me out.
I saw something flying over the yard and I got, like, really scared. I thought it could’ve been Owlectra or something, I didn’t want bad luck on Christmas Eve! So, I-I…
I threw one of my bricks at it.”
Poppa couldn’t believe his ears. His own brick truck had nearly murdered Santa himself!? What a disappointment, he should’ve seen this coming. Flat-Top had always been the most incompetent out of the freight but he was never meant to stoop THIS LOW!
“You did what!? You shot down Santa’s sleigh!?”
Flat-Top seemed even more embarrassed now.
“Y-Yeah, I did…Now what?”
“WHO THE FUCK IS SUPPOSED TO DELIVER THE PRESENTS NOW? HUH!?”
“Oh yeah, that, hah…”
Steam was blowing out of Poppa’s ears, literally. He could’ve exploded if it weren’t for the fact that he had the freight to pull. Why did all the freight have to be such dumbasses? Well, except CB, where was CB anyway…
Dustin spoke up; there had been an awkward silence while Poppa was thinking.
“Hey! Maybe we could deliver the presents while Santa recovers, Rusty?”
Rusty looked at Dustin with a grimace and huffed
“What, you want ME to pull you so you can deliver the presents? No way. Nope! I ain’t doing that, not in a million years. I’m sick of your shit Flat-Top.”
And just like that, Rusty rolled off and out of the yard angrily to go find Pearl.
A loud shriek of laughter erupted from the corner of the yard and, out of the darkness, rolled CB. He had been observing the whole conversation from the shadows. He had a stupid grin on his face as he snickered at them
“Well I would just love to help deliver these presents but it seems like nobody can pull us! Poppa won’t have the strength and Rusty’s refused, so now what?”
CB was right, although they didn’t want to admit it.
Dustin looked up at his brother Flat-Top and tugged his arm gently, a look of despair on his face as he whispered
“W-What are we going to do? Surely we can’t carry all those presents, we don’t have the Christmas magic!”
Christmas magic...Flat-Top had an idea.
He rolled over to Santa and checked the pockets of his red suit. A wallet, set of keys and...what’s this? A pocket-sized pod of something which resembled iridescent sand. He picked it up and slammed it onto the hard tracks, smashing it instantly.
The sand seemed to morph into clouds of dazzling smoke, which swirled around Flat-Top and made him look new and shiny.
“Flat-Top! You’re glowing like a star!”
So he was! Glowing like the Starlight Express themself!
Poppa couldn’t believe his eyes; he was lost for words at the sight of Flat-Top without those flashy tattoos.
“I-Is this Santa’s magic? Am I magic now? CAN I DO MAGIC!?”
“Flat-Top, look!”
Dustin hastily pointed at the brick truck’s pet brick, which sat on his head and seemed to be shining the brightest. Flat-Top took the brick off his head.
Another brick replaced it.
Flat-Top had an infinite supply of bricks.
CB had still been observing from a short distance away but now he had an idea. A great idea, in fact. Neither Flat-Top nor Dustin had enough space to carry all those presents, but Flat-Top did have his new infinite supply of bricks. Perhaps…
“Flat-Top, Dustin, how about we go and look for an engine to pull us? I’m sure someone will be willing, and with your magic, we might be able to do the impossible.”
CB murmured slyly as he motioned towards a nearby shed. The two brothers looked at each other, shrugged and started to roll towards the shed.
CB was about to follow them until Poppa tapped him on the shoulder.
“CB, son, let me tell you something before you go.”
Poppa picked up a nearby empty soda can and gripped it in his hand
“You see this can? This is your neck. If you even dare to fuck this up then...”
He crushed the can in his fist.
CB gulped.
Dustin had never been to this side of the yard before, it had always seemed frightening to him. It was getting rather dark and they had to find a willing engine to pull the 3 trucks and fast.
CB suddenly stopped in front of them, a grin still plastered on his evil face. He looked up at Flat-Top and Dustin and chuckled
“Did you guys really think we would be able to carry all those presents? You idiots. That’s not what I was thinking, I have...another idea. Flat-Top, you now have an infinite supply of those bricks, right? Perhaps we could...play a little game.”
Flat-Top looked dumbfounded at the brake truck and mumbled back
“Well, what do you think we could do then?”
CB let out a little giggle and yelled
“WE COULD THROW BRICKS AT CHILDREN! HAHAHA!”
Dustin felt his stomach turn at that thought. Nope. Flat-Top wasn’t going to agree with this, r-right?
He was wrong.
Flat-Top let out a wheezy laugh with CB
“That sounds brilliant! Yeah, let’s do that! C’mon Dustin, you can help!”
“NO! I DON’T WANT TO!”
“Don’t be such a wuss, come and help us! You’re my brother, right?”
Dustin felt torn. He really loved his brother but at the same time, he didn’t really want to throw bricks at children, especially on Christmas Eve of all days.
“...”
“Well, Dustin? You coming or not?”
“Ok, OK! I’ll come.”
“Great! Now we just need to find an engine.”
CB pondered for a moment before perking up
“How about Greaseball? He’s strong, I’m sure he would be willing to help. He lives around here, somewhere...THERE! Let’s go!”
They headed in the direction of where Greaseball usually slept. Hopefully, he would be willing to pull them, if not, then CB had some cash to bribe him with.
CB rolled up to the shed’s doors and used his tiny twig arms to fling them open. Inside was Greaseball...and Dinah. CB knew he had probably interrupted something but he didn’t really care.
“HEY, YA LITTLE BITCH! HELP US THROW BRICKS AT CHILDREN!”
“Caboose!? W-What are you doing here?!”
“DOESN’T MATTER, GET OUT HERE!”
After explaining to Greaseball what their plan was, he seemed rather displeased.
“Really? I’m not going to do this in the middle of the night you fucking lunatic.”
“We can pay you.”
Greaseball’s eyes lit up and he stuttered out
“U-UH, ONE DOLLAR FOR ONE MILE!”
“Good for me, here’s $50.”
Caboose shoved the money into Greaseball’s sweaty palms. They all coupled up and started to travel. They proceeded north out of the Apollo Victorian and started down the mainline. Greaseball’s engine hummed as they dashed through the night, as Greaseball rocketed up the northern mainline as they passed the state line into Indiana. CB, Flat-Top, and Dustin started to plan their next moves.
“So, where are we going to throw bricks at first? Isn’t there a neighbourhood coming up? We could start there.”
“Nice idea CB, I’ve got my throwing arm ready. Dustin?”
“Yes, I’m ready.”
“Ok, I can see some houses coming up. 3, 2, 1...THROW!”
As Greaseball thundered through the neighbourhood, Flat-tops arm went off like a rocket, throwing hundreds of bricks in mere seconds. As Greaseball blasted his horn, they were already out of the town. Everyone was truly speechless.
“What… the actual… fuck.”
Dustin murmured. However, they didn’t have much time to think as Greaseball screeched to a halt.
“Time’s up boys. I’ve reached 50 miles, gotta leave now. See ya!”
CB’s face went pale as his voice cracked
“W-WHAT! NO! PLEASE STAY, PLEASE!”
Greaseball had a smug smirk on his face.
“I’ll do anything, just please stay!”
Greaseball just looked down at the little clown gremlin and chuckled before turning around and speeding off (Making sure the snow hit CB’s ugly face) while yelling
“THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR THAT FUCKING STUNT YOU PULLED IN THE DOWNHILL FINAL!”