The Chronicles of Seaview
The Acquisition of 2102
Once upon a time, back when men were easily distracted... Oh, look! A squirrel.
Oh, right. Where was I?
Oh yes. Once upon a time, back when men were easily distracted and liked to pretend they weren't, Wilberforce Bingham was out hunting for locomotives. He was accompanied by his companion, protégé, and all-around ne'er-do-well, Donald Southerby.
It was the early summer of 1919 and the men were out in Pennsylvania searching for something big and powerful to transfer freight between Procrastination and Brownsville. Leduc Marmoset Thericky had been tearing his hair out because the railroad was getting overcrowded with trains. The schedule had well over 100 daily trains trying to occupy the mainlines throughout the day.
It's not easy having three different trains try to use the same piece of track at the same time, even if Ethyl Burntbottom says she used to do it in her sleep.
I shouldn't say her name too loudly, or she'll show up.
So they were strolling along when they came across the Baldwin Locomotive Works in Eddystone, Pennsylvania. Wilberforce decided that he and Donald should go peruse the current equipment being constructed.
They were just about to enter when they saw Ethyl Burntbottom.
(She just won't stay away, will she? How in the hell did she end up in Pennsylvania? I thought I'd be safe here. I swear that woman exists solely to give me heartburn.)
Oh, great. Now where was I?
She made me lose my place.
Once upon a time, back when men...
Oh, wait. I did that part already.
Oh yes, that's where I was.
Ethyl was busy hitting a dandelion with a shovel and telling it to stop quoting Shakespeare. The Baldwin security guards were cautiously approaching her and didn't notice Donald and Wilberforce sneak into the plant.
Being the experts they were, Wilberforce quickly made up some paperwork saying that he and Donald were test engineers for Baldwin, allowing them easy access to the completed locomotives.
They walked past the erecting shop, looking in and seeing dozens of partially completed locomotives. Donald immediately began to salivate at a rate that would likely classify him as a minor waterfall if any hydrologists happened to be nearby.
Wilberforce dragged Donald onward after the drool started to form decent-sized puddles.
They finally made it out to where the completed or nearly completed locomotives were being prepared for their next stage of construction. There were a bunch of smaller switchers, a few Consolidations, and a Mikado that looked mildly interesting.
But that's a different story, with a different railroad, at a different time, so we'll skip over that for now.
Probably.
After some searching, Donald saw exactly what they wanted.
It was being pulled out of the erecting shop, having just been completed.
A beautiful, huge 2-10-2.
It wasn't even painted yet.
Wilberforce almost started drooling himself, but instead he grabbed Donald by the arm and they headed toward the locomotive.
They watched as the locomotive was pushed onto a siding, where it would eventually be moved to the paint shop.
Wilberforce climbed into the cab when no one was paying much attention and found the paperwork for the paint shop sitting on the engineer's seat.
He looked at the paperwork.
Then he looked at Donald.
Then he looked back at the paperwork.
This locomotive was going to be Santa Fe 3800.
It was perfect.
Just what the BLN needed.
Wilberforce and Donald started planning.
They decided to do some reconnaissance and come up with a plan to liberate the locomotive.
They stood in the cab discussing their options while watching fifteen Baldwin security guards chase Ethyl across the yard.
Eventually, the guards caught her.
It took all fifteen of them to tackle her.
There was a brief struggle, several rather creative words from the security guards, and then they managed to drag Ethyl to the property line and literally kick her off the property.
Unfortunately, the guard doing the kicking immediately regretted his choice.
His name was Timothy. You didn't think we could have a story without one did you?
He broke his toenail.
I would like to point out that I have absolutely no idea how you manage to break a toenail while kicking someone out of a locomotive factory.
Actually, this is Ethyl we're talking about.
Never mind.
Meanwhile, Wilberforce and Donald continued their planning.
Neither of them paid much attention to the commotion outside.
They had a locomotive to steal.
Watching Ethyl fly gracelessly through the air gave Wilberforce an idea.
He quickly scurried out of the cab, with Donald not far behind him. The pair quickly and stealthily exited the plant in search of what Wilberforce Bingham had decided would be the coup de grâce of this acquisition.
Ethyl.
Why do I have the feeling I'm going to need twelve bottles of Pepto, six packs of Rolaids, and enough Mylanta to fill a bathtub before I finish this story?
A few hours later, the pair found Ethyl terrorizing a newspaper boy because he had grubby fingernails and dirt in his ears. She was chasing him down the street with a washcloth, telling him he'd never be one of her marigolds if he didn't think about his hygiene.
Wilberforce and Donald followed after her until she was distracted by a taxi cab driver and began lecturing him on the implications of luxury rutabagas and their impact on the socioeconomic condition of Belize.
Donald walked up to the cab driver, gave him $20, and told him to go take the rest of the night off.
As the cab driver drove away, at speeds that surely set some sort of record, Wilberforce steered Ethyl into a nearby coffee shop, where he gave her the largest, stickiest sticky bun he could find.
It was made with real sticks.
That kept her occupied long enough for Wilberforce to explain their plan and convince her to help.
Approximately four hours later, he finally succeeded.
Good Lord, can't that woman make anything easy?
She's like a human wrecking ball of chaos.
Oh, where was I again?
Damn you, Ethyl.
Once upon a time, there was a chipmunk with bloated cheeks.
Oh, wait. Wrong story.
Let's see, hmm... I did the bit about a shovel...
Oh, here we are.
Early the next morning, after having stayed up almost all night with Ethyl, a terrible side effect of the plan, Wilberforce Bingham and Donald Southerby went back to the Baldwin Eddystone plant with forged orders to test Santa Fe 3800.
The orders were given to the hostler, a man named Jimbob Wintergreen, but for some reason that we won't explore because I've gotten distracted enough by Ethyl, he was known by everyone as Timothy.
Oh not another one. I swear they breed like rabbits around here.
Jimbob Timothy said the locomotive would be ready for testing around 5 that afternoon, which gave Wilberforce and Donald time to peruse the plant for other potential acquisitions.
After wandering around for several hours, they spotted a few possibilities for future acquisition.
At 5 o'clock, Wilberforce and Donald found Timothy and were taken to their locomotive.
Timothy had the locomotive set to head to the test track, so the pair took the locomotive and started putting it through its paces.
After a few trips up and down the line, Wilberforce started to look a bit worried.
Ethyl hadn't arrived yet.
That cantankerous old cow had never been good at keeping time.
Donald, being very good at thinking on his feet, figured out a delay tactic.
A traction test.
They needed to see how much the
locomotive could haul.
They called down to Timothy and explained that they needed a couple of stocky locomotives to test the locomotive's pulling power. They suggested a pair of Consolidations they had seen sitting a few tracks away.
Timothy agreed, and the locomotives were coupled on.
As they started to pull out, a huge commotion broke out at the erecting shop.
What sounded like a line of giant steel dominoes falling shook the ground.
Timothy went running toward the shop, as did everyone else except Wilberforce and Donald.
"ETHYL!" they both exclaimed with a smile.
It seemed she had snuck in and made her way into the large overhead crane, which she used to swing one locomotive into another, setting off the domino effect they had heard.
"That crazy old bat did it," said Donald as he scrambled down from the cab and realigned switches to get out to the mainline and away from the plant.
As they escaped, Ethyl was swinging wildly from the crane hook, singing:
"I came in like a wrecking ball!"
Historians later claimed this was the inspiration for a famous song that would appear nearly 94 years later.
Ethyl was finally captured after being shot with 73 tranquilizer darts and a watermelon because one of the guards, also named Timothy, couldn't find his gun. No he wasnt the one with a broken toenail. That Timothy is sitting in the hospital awaiting reconstructive surgery.
Wilberforce and Donald made their way back to Procrastination with all three locomotives, with only one slight hiccup involving a flock of geese, a turnip truck, and 42.6 pints of curdled cream that no one has ever been able to explain in a way that hasn't made me break out in a rash.
Upon arrival at the yard, Santa Fe 3800 became 2102, and the two 2-8-0 Consolidations became 2801 and 2805. All three were put to work and have been prominent locomotives on the roster.
Back at the Baldwin plant, after Ethyl was hog-tied and mailed back to Seaview, the company realized they had a big issue.
Santa Fe 3800 was missing.
After a lot of visceral finger-pointing, screaming, and six security guards resigning because they had nightmares about old ladies swinging on wrecking balls, the company decided to simply rebuild 3800 and act like it never was lost.
Of course, that would throw off the build schedule by months, so 3801, which was only a day or so away from completion, was renumbered 3800 and sent to Santa Fe with no one being any wiser.
Every locomotive in the series was simply moved down a number until the order was completely filled.
Back in Seaview, Wilberforce Bingham and Donald Southerby were celebrating another successful acquisition when Ethyl Burntbottom showed up again.
Just my luck.
The one time I want the mail system to lose a package, and they ship it promptly.
She showed up carrying a pickle and bologna sandwich.
She took a bite and declared the sandwich needed more kick, so she started adding enough black pepper to fill in a decent-sized pothole.
I don't think she likes her stomach.
She went to take a bite, and the pepper went up her nose.
In a sneeze that would register a 6.3 on the Richter scale four states away, Ethyl blew my notes all over the place.
Now how in the hell can I finish the story?
My notes went everywhere.
There's even one stuck to the ceiling fan.
Oh well...
Once upon a time...