The children of Beauneville gather in a circle for Sunday Reading Time. Dorabella squeezes her ample bottom into the Reading Chair and continues to read from The Blue Trolley.
At the station, the Blue Trolley waited patiently for Fred and his Dad to return from the ice cream parlor. Thomas the Tank Engine rolled up the adjacent track pulling two coaches and stopped.Dorabella holds the book aloft to show the picture.
"Good morning!" said Thomas.Another picture.
"Clang, clang!" said the Blue Trolley.
Thomas pulls out an iPhone. "Look at me!" he says. "I'm texting!"
"Clang, clang!" said the Blue Trolley.
Thomas held the phone at arms length and took a selfie. "See?" he says, showing off the picture.
"Clang, clang!" said the Blue Trolley.Dorabella puts the book down. The gathered children clap happily.
Thomas the Tank Engine chuffed away. Just as Fred and his Dad returned from the ice cream parlor, The Little Engine That Could Arrived. "Good morning!" said The Little Engine That Could.
"Good morning!" said Fred.
"Good morning!" said Fred's Dad.
"Clang, clang!" said the Blue Trolley.
"Where are you going?" asked Fred.
"I am going to pull this train of good food and toys over the mountain to the little children on the other side."
"Are you sure that's possible? All those big engines over there said it can't be done."
"Well, poop on those fuddy-duds. I will just say 'I think I can, I think I can, I think I can' over and over again and pull this long train of good food and toys over the mountain to the children on the other side."
"That is ridiculous Bergsonian twaddle," said Fred. "Your ability to pull that train over the mountain depends solely on the tractive effort you can produce, which depends on the power transmitted to your driving wheels and the factor of adhesion. If the mass of the train exceeds your tractive effort on the steepest grade, you will roll backwards down the hill. The forces of physics are not affected by the content of your train or the needs to the intended recipients."
"Well," said The Little Engine That Could, "that's your opinion." He tugged on the train and started to roll out the station. "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can..."
About ten minutes later, the train rolled backwards into the station, The Little Engine That Could still coupled to the front but clearly exhausted. He said nothing.
"See?" said Fred.
"Clang, clang!" said the Blue Trolley.
Fred his Dad boarded the Blue Trolley and they departed.
"Are we heading home?" asked Fred.
"Clang, clang!" said the Blue Trolley. "Clickety-clack, clickety-clack, clickety-clickety-clack!"
Soon, they arrived at the station on Duck Pond Road, near their house.
"Goodbye, Blue Trolley!" said Fred.
"Clang, clang!" said the Blue Trolley.
Fred's Dad drove home, taking care to avoid small children and pets playing in the street. He parked the Packard in the shade of the squashberry tree, which groaned with fruit. Mom met them at the front door, and so did Zeppelin, Mr. Wuffles and Spot, who pushed Not A Bunny's wheeled aquarium.
"Hello, everyone!" said Fred.
Then everyone played tag, which was great fun for everyone but Not A Bunny, who had no way to tag anyone back so he was always "it".
Meanwhile, Molly Bloom sits and reads in the Student Union beneath Natasha's recently installed mural, which is aptly named Molly Bloom's Moist Pink Vagina. Another student -- Molly recognizes him from Rhetoric class -- approaches the mural, gazes at it intently.
"Excuse me," he says to Molly, "you're Molly Bloom, aren't you?"
"No," says Molly.
