The sun was shining on Sodor Island and Thomas had just finished rolling in late to his last station of the day. "Peep Peep!" said Thomas. "Another adequate day's work done. I'm off to my shed to get tanked."
But there was a surprise waiting for Thomas. As he came close to his shed, he noticed there was an enormous towel over the door. "I'm sorry Thomas", said the Fat Controller, who had been waiting behind a big pile of the News of the World to make his announcement. "I'm afraid you can't go back in there. We've got a new engine visiting from Germany, and he's very shiny, and very modern. We're going to sell you for scrap to the gypsies."
Thomas looked very shocked indeed. "What!!" said Thomas, "you said that it was going to be British Engines for British Railways, or at least Canadian ones. Can we talk about this?" But the Fat Controller wiped some maple syrup from his lips, and pretended to only speak French. "Tant pis", he said. "C'est all Gordon's fault, n'est pas?"
Just then, Gordon pulled into the sidings, towing a line of grubby, noisy carriages. "We'll never be next, we'll never be next, we'll never be next", chattered the carriages, as they leaned into the last corner, set off a warning alarm and stopped suddenly.
Gordon looked embarrassed. "Mr Fat Controller, that's not fair at all! I might have given a massive lift to nice Mr Barclays when he went to collect Akira the Bullet Train, but you're the one who let the kraut in."
The Fat Controller was very angry. "You invited him Gordon! I couldn't very well turn him away. Besides, we're all European now. It wouldn't be fair to stop Hans taking your sheds." Just then, Hans opened the door. "Pipe down, little engines. I haf krushing werke to do tomorrow."
"Who are you?" asked Thomas. "I am herr Seimens", said Hans. Thomas and the other engines sniggered, but they realised that they'd been properly shafted. The Fat Controller was already eyeing up other bits of the station that would look good in grey with tight shutlines.
But it wasn't the end for Thomas just yet. "There's still plenty of work", said the Fat Controller. "Can you take these workers to the docks, to open the new crates from Germany? And then not come back?"
Thomas felt a bit broken as he sloped off to the seaside. He decided to have a rest on the beach, and felt much better after his driver filled his boiler with prozac. "It's not the end of the world", said Thomas, as he watched the sun set on his industry. "I could spend my days rocking backwards and forwards outside Tescos."