The prototype diesels arrived early next morning.

For a moment, all work stopped in the usually bustling yard, as the two magnificent engines rolled into view.

Lion was a large, pure white colored main line diesel with white 'Co' bogies and rail tyres. His face, white as his paint, with the silvery handrail going around above it, made it impossible to place his numberplate on that end. When he passed someone, however, the numberplate on his other cab was revealed to be set to "0000".

"So, that's Lion?" Twilight asked.

"Yeah." Diesel replied "A Type 4. I think he was the predecessor of Brush's class."

The white diesel purred towards them.

"Hello!" he said, cheerily. "You must be Diesel!"

Moderately surprised, the shunter replied:

"And you're Lion." he muttered, matter-of-factually. The large engine smiled.

"Pleased to meet you!" he replied kindly. His voice sounded very regal.

"How can we help you?" Twilight asked.

"I'm looking for the schedule of tonight's express train." he explained "From Canterlot to Manehattan, I believe."

"Ah." the Class 08 muttered, before looking towards the sheds "Then consult with Old Stuck-Up over there. He's the Class 40, the Rail Blue one with the monocle. Number 40125."

"Thank you!" Lion replied, and with a roar, he trundled towards the sheds.

"He seems to be a kind sort." Twilight commented.

"A bit too conceited for my taste." Diesel grunted.

"Nah. He's just self-confident." the unicorn replied "Although, I had to admit, I've never seen an engine who was so... Sooo..."

"Creamy?"

"Yeah."

"Well, he's been in service for 18 months in total, before being withdrawn and scrapped." the shunter explained "In fact, his withdrawal was shrouded in mystery for the longest time."

"Well, he's back now! We met him in the... Metal."

"Indeed. Now, let's see about Falcon!"

Falcon, the only Class 53 ever to be built, was somewhat longer, painted lime green with a chestnut colored stripe going along the bottom of his body, and in between the ventilation grilles.

He hummed quietly, slowly approaching the shunter.

There was an uncomfortable pause as he came to a stop next to them.

"Welcome." the Class 08 greeted him simply.

"Good day." he replied "I'm here on trial. You must be Diesel."

"Yes." came the short answer "And you're Falcon, right?"

"Indeed."

Falcon gazed around.

"I was supposed to be taking local passenger and freight trains as part of my test. Where can I find them?"

"The next freight train isn't due until noon." Diesel replied "And Bowler had already left with the local stopping train. You can consult with him when he returns."

"And... Regarding the goods service?"

"Just ask Spamcan. He's being hosed down at the moment." he squinted as he looked towards the far end of the yard "You'll notice him quite easily. Class 46. Covered in filth, dents, scratches, dust, splodges, and graffiti. Unshaven. Dented nose. Broken middle windscreen. Number D199."

"Ah... Than you." Falcon replied, rumbling off.

"He seemed a bit... Stand-off-ish." the unicorn muttered "Cold, even."

"He's the earnest type." the shunter explained "Which makes the arseholerism of Brush Traction even more of a piss take."

"What happened?"

"After B.R. no longer required him, the guys at Brush decided to scrap him A.S.A.P., so that no-one else can make profit out of him. Even though preservation societies showed up with hands full of money, they still did him in. The bastards!"

Twilight had to agree.

While Lion got into a pleasant chat with Old Stuck-Up to catch up on the events of Earth in the past 60 or so years, Falcon approached idling Spamcan.

"Hello." he greeted him.

"'Ello." the Class 46 replied "Ye'r' Falcon, righ'?"

"Yes. I'm here for the midday goods train's schedule."

"So yer goin' t' ta'e th' noo' goo's?" Spamcan asked.

"As part of my trial, yes."

"Ah, wic'e', man!" the goods engine exclaimed, then began to trace the schedule "Righ', i'll star' f'om he'e, pic' u' sum lo'al da'ry a' Hoofin'ton, then com' bac' down th' li'e, all th' way t' Manehatt'n. Oh, don' forge' t' ma'e brief sto's a' th' small statio's in be'wee'." he went on "Ya shoul' arri'e t' Manehatt'n Cen'ral wi'h an em'y trai'. De'e, you'll pic' u' se'eral fla'beds loa'ed wi'h aggr'ga'o's. Ta'e 'em to th' transfe' yard up a' Neighgoro'. Dey'll hav' t' arrive a' Stalliongra' Sou'h Cen'ral. Dey may rope ya i' fo' sum shun'in' dere, bu' ya can decline i'. Afte'war's, ge' bac' 'ere wi'hou' crashin' o' pic'in' figh' wi'h sum'on' alon' th' way. Shoul' be easy, though. Eng'nes in th' Nor' East'rn Region ar' fr'enly sor's. Lou', bu' fr'enly."

"Anything I should be wary of?"

"My brothe', Sulzer." it was amazing how fast Spamcan's expression changed from pleased to sullen "He's bee' spo'ed i' dese parts."

"Yes, I believe I have heard about him. - the Class 53 muttered - Anyways, what'll you do then?"

"Meh. Go' my afte'noo' appl' run t' Can'e'lo'."

"Right, right."

And with that, Falcon considered his job done, and rumbled off to the sidings.

Meanwhile, Lion was wrapping up his conversation with Old Stuck-up.

"...So, anyways, anything I should be worried of?"

The Class 40 thought for a moment.

"Not that I know of, no." he replied "Maybe in Manehattan Central. There's a Jubilee class engine by the name of Conrad there." his voice turned grim "Ripe red. An egocentric, xenophobic prick. Avoid him."

"Got it." said Lion, wishing he would be able to nod to enhance his understanding.

"Anyways..." the express engine went on "There are more engines to meet here (although none is as sophisticated and lectured as I am)! There's Bowler, for example. The young lad is very sincere and likes to keep things clean... A bit TOO clean, even. And then, there's Cromwell. A bit aloof, but still, a good chap. His tender, on the other hand..."

The white engine raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I heard he's sophisticated." Stuck-Up explained "But as the fuel container of a gas turbine locomotive, he has little control over his bowels. He goes by the name of Mr. Bottomsly."

"Ooookaaay..." it was at that point that Lion slowly backed away from the Class 40, and rolled off to find someone else to talk to.

At the turn of noon, Falcon left with his line of trucks to Hoofington.

After consulting with Bowler, the green Class 53 calculated that if he's quick, he'll be able to take the afternoon stopping train. Needless to say, the uppity engine took him on that offer.

As the last of the trucks passed the signal gantry, the engines and their drivers gathered in the shed. Falcon was yet to join them.

"He seems like a simple sort of engine..." Derek commented "Very straightforward."

"More like very abundantly lacking in character." Stuck-Up growled "He didn't even had the common courtesy and sense to introduce himself to ME!"

"Don't be like that, Sir Alaric..." Rarity soothed him "I'm sure he didn't mean it."

"Yeah, he's probably jus' absolved in 'is job." Applejack added.

"He definitely doesn't AVOID work as much as YOU GUYS do!" Pip sneered.

"I DO beg your pardon!" Bowler snapped "We've ALL been doing honest work since we arrived into Equestria! I don't know what YOU are complaining about! All you two girls have to do is the InterCity rounds!"

"Weeeell, we HAVE been built specifically for that..." Emma mused "Although, a bit of change wouldn't hurt..."

"Anyways, didn't you just buffered over your afternoon run to Falcon?" Pip went on, stiffling a giggle.

"Well, he DOES need to familiarize himself with the line!" the green diesel retorted "And the stations."

"Yeah, right..." the twins giggled. This proved to be contagious.

Bowler just "hmph"ed, and reversed deeper into the shadows of the shed, sulking.

"Oh, come on now, Bowler!" Trixie called out to him.

"Just let him be, Trixie!" Derek chuckled "He'll come out when he wants..."

"From the closet, you mean?" Diesel snickered "I doubt it!"

The uppity engine sunk deeper into the shadows as everyone burst out in a seemingly unstoppable guffaw, apart from the azure mare, who was growing desperate.

"Cut it out, guys!" she said.

Old Stuck-Up chortled.

"I don't know WHY you would try to coax him back into the light." he mused "What doesn't kill him will only make him stronger. And a bit of seclusion wouldn't hurt anyone."

"...Then go."

"What?"

"I said GO!" Trixie snapped, surprising the others "You just said, quote, that "a bit of seclusion wouldn't hurt anyone". And I'm pretty sure that a refined such as yourself would not preach something he doesn't practice." she hissed "So LEAVE!"

After a few minutes of staring with their jaws dropped, Stuck-Up and Rarity "hmph" as well, and with their noses pointed towards the sky, they left the shed, departing towards the fuel depot.

Slowly, the others recovered as well.

"'ey! Whut was THAT for?" Applejack snapped.

"Yeah, it's unlike you to just... Tell ponies, or engine, off like that." Rainbow Dash added.

"What's the matter?" Fluttershy asked "Is something... Bothering you?"

In a flash, Trixie went from aggressive to coy.

"It's just that..." she began "Me and Bowler look after each other..."

"Sure, just like the rest of us." Rainbow nodded, before smiling at the two shunters under her care. 'Arry smirked, while Bert beamed back at her.

"I know..." the blue unicorn went on "But it's... Eh... I don't like it when people purposefully make it miserable for him..."

The others stared. Bowler rolled forward a bit.

"I think... It's because of how I suffered, when..." she bit off the end of the sentence.

The others stared at the ground, awkwardly.

They haven't talked about the ill-fated Magic Duel, ever since it's occurrence.

The Alicorns' Challenge, which took out everything from the two fighters, left nothing but devastation: Twilight, who's magic had temporarily, while her self-confidence had seemingly permanently suffered it, came out as victor, and Trixie, who had died during, and had been reanimated after the battle, lost her cutie mark, and the call of her special talent.

The Duel had drained Twilight of her will, so when they faced Discord for the second time, she allowed Diesel and the others to "influence" her and her friends, which meant, that as the main bearer, the Bearer of the Element of Magic, she failed to keep herself, and consequently, her friends, from corruption.

Things turned out better, of course, but it left her feeling worried.

If Diesel, an essentially un-magical being was able to corrupt her so easily...

Then what would it take from the powers that created Nightmare Moon?

Or King Sombra?

Heck, seeing trough changeling magic was hard enough, and SHE was the only one who managed. And even then, she had to rely on her intuition.

Guilt was also a big issue.

No matter what happened, Twilight began to feel more and more grateful for having Diesel to consult and work with. The shunter's own worldly experience and amazing power of... Observation... Has been one of his greatest asset in confrontations.

If she would've asked him, or any of his associates about... That...

It could've been avoided.

And Trixie would still have her mark.

She would still have a goal to strive for. To live for.

And she, Twilight would finally be able to sleep without those restless hours of guilt.

Perhaps, one day...

But until then, she had to pay the price for her...

Well...

For her stupidity.

It was also quite morbid that she hadn't been charged for murder. Even though Trixie was resurrected, that was still murder.

Well, it was in defense, so it technically counts as mare-slaughter.

And, usually at this point, Twilight stopped thinking about it, so as to avoid getting even more severe nausea.

Trixie wasn't fairing well, either. Without a cutie mark, and a talent to guide her in her life, she didn't know where to go or who to ask.

The Princesses tried their best to aid the problem, but with such an archaic spell used, they soon found themselves stumped.

It was no surprise that the mare shared a bond her engine.

The other mares got along with their own locomotive as well. But none shared the same mutual respect that the unicorn and the green diesel showed towards each other. Not even Rarity and Old Stuck-Up, and they had been supporting one another from day one, regardless of their differences.

The conversation ended just like that. Awkwardly.

Engines and mares went back to their work.

Come the turn of noon, the engines realized that Falcon hasn't returned yet.

Yards were contacted, signal boxes were informed. Apparently, the olive diesel had already made it's way to Manehattan Central with the dairy train, and headed off towards the northern border.

Stalliongrad South was called, and it was revealed that their load of aggregators DID arrive, but in the usual bustle of the transfer yard, they didn't see who brought it in.

From that point onwards, Falcon had seemingly vanished.

Dr. Whooves contacted numerous stations and signalponies, but none could tell where the Class 53 was.

Finally, a call came in - the during the guard mount, the leaving signalmare mentioned an unclassified green diesel passing under the gantry.

With no headcode or train visible, he was diverted onto an industrial line.

The switch to the industrial line was beyond Trottingham Junction, but not close enough to Hoofington. Still, it belonged to that yard, as the tracks joined into main line from the other direction.

After a bit of thinking, the Doctor realized that THAT was the dual line running behind Sweet Apple Acres.

He alerted Spamcan and Applejack, and the two raced off.

Meanwhile, it was getting late, and there was no engine to pull the afternoon stopping train - Bowler had left to deliver a train of bleach tankers from the chemical combinat, Cromwell was getting tuned up (an overhaul long since required), and Lion was getting ready for the evening express. Pip and Emma had left a moment ago to help out an electrified branch line which suffered from a complete power failure, leaving the brown stallion with Old Stuck-Up.

The express engine, as predicted, wasn't at all pleased, but after a bit of coaxing from his driver, and at the promise of a bottle of Scotch, he rolled over to the prepared coaches, who squealed in delight as they noticed that the express diesel was pulling them.

With that out of the way, the Doctor could concentrate on the issue at hoof: Falcon.

Boarding Vac, with his assistant Ditzy Doo driving, they set off towards the Sweet Apple Backtrack.

Ahead of them, near the small yard behind the Acres, Applejack and Spamcan had already figured out where Falcon was.

The olive engine was stuck in one of the sidings, merely waiting for the line to be open.

A wagon of extravagant size and shape parked on the small utility crossing that ran across the rails at the end of the yard, blocking the diesels way towards the marshalling yard.

The cowmare recognized the wagon. And swore under her breath.

"Wha's up?" Spamcan asked, looking up ahead.

"Th' Super-Speedy-Cider-Squeezy-6000..." she muttered.

"...Th' WUT-no'?"

As the applefarmer explained about the wagon, it's owners finally presented themselves.

And Applejack had to take a long, deep breath, just to keep her ire in check.

The two stallions looked almost identical, dressed identical, and had the same color pattern: fur as yellow as an apple's core, mane and tail playing in crimson with white stripes, and the vests, bow ties and boater hats of old-fashioned conmen were recognized for.

One also had mustache, which was practically the only way to differentiate between them - well, aside from their cutie marks.

The two unicorns made their merry way towards the engine.

"Well, lookie here, brother of mine." one began "If it isn't Applejack."

"Fair maiden of Sweet Apple Acres." the other added "The most prized and famous farmland in this side of Equestria."

"Wha' th' Hell do you two want?" D199 growled.

"Nothing." Flim replied.

"Nothing but justice." Flam put in.

"Justice? What are ya talkin' about?!" Applejack snapped "An' move yer wagon out of th' way! Yer blockin' th' lines!"

"Are we?" Flam smirked "Well, isn't that a shame?2

"Shame for two entrepreneurs, who had lost their game in the great race of the market." Flim mused.

"Th' HELL ar' ya bablin' abou'?!" the goods engine snapped.

"I know..." his driver muttered "We beat ya, fair an' square. I'll admit, it would've been wiser fer ya t' open one of the earlier barrels ya've made durin' th' contest, but what's dun' is dun'."

"Is it?" Flim asked, innocently.

"Look. You're still on th' tracks, which means you're blockin' th' way." the mare retorted "In other words, ye're holdin' up traffic!"

"Dese tracks belon' t' Equestrian Rail." Spamcan added "Ye're causin' delay, which d'roga'es th' honor of th' railway, an' c'nsequently, th' Princesses as well."

"They own th' railway." Applejack muttered.

"Do they?" Flam asked, sounding rather unimpressed "Well, in that case, they'll just have to listen to us..."

A few hundred meters down the line, a work-stained RailFreight diesel, and his two crew members - a bubbly mare and troubled Time Lord - exchanged worried looks upon hearing the cidermaker's comment.

"We better inform the Chairmare!" Dr. Whooves decided, putting Vac in reverse.

When they arrived, the two ponies rushed into the office, leaving the gray diesel standing beside the platform, engines still running.

"What's the matter, Vac?" Old Stuck-Up asked. He had just returned with what was inarguably Equestria's fastest stopping train, and was in a charitable mood "You seem worked up."

"I just arrived from the Apple family's industrial line!" the Class 31 turned Class 50 replied "Falcon has been diverted onto it because he forgot to set his headcode!"

"I see..." the express engine replied "Truly a beginners' mistake, but who could blame him? The poor devil didn't had the longest service life, that's for sure!"

"That's not the issue!" Vac gasped.

"Is it? And why isn't he here, yet?" Stuck-Up pondered out loud "He hasn't broken down, has he? That would be rather unfortunate on his first..."

"No!" the RailFreight engine yelled "He's being held up!"

"Held up?" the Class 40 gaped "Wha...? How...? By who?!"

"A pair of entrepreneurs named Flim and Flam..."

""Entrepreneurs"? You mean, businessmen?"

"Businesscolts, rather..." Vac replied "Anyways, they're more like conmen, and apparently, they have a bone to pick with Applejack, so they held up traffic on the Apple family's backtrack.

"Outrageous!" Stuck-Up roared "Don't they realize that they're holding up traffic?!"

"That's exactly why they parked their wagon on the rails!" the gray engine went on "They want to talk with the Princesses as well, so it's like to birds with one stone for them!"

"DISTORTING!" the express engine bellowed, roaring off towards the yard.

The news soon spread down the line, and the reaction wasn't delayed, not even by a second.

Everyone, every engine, coach and truck was infuriated.

"They have the idiotic audacity to stand up against such an honorable industry like ours?" Euston, the Patriot class steam engine shouted, seething with fury, as he stood among his equally enraged peers "These leeches have done nothing but ruin our lives and the lives of many for the sake money!"

"They privatized us and gave all of us a bad name!" an electric engine yelled at his surprised crew.

"Engines and rolling stock lived the life of prostitutes on the whim of the private contractors!" Pip and Emma screeched at a very closely listening crowd "And it's all because of bastards like them!"

"They lobbied at sycophantic politicians for their cause, dooming their own countries!" Sulzer hissed to group of workponies "They sold us off to those cunts, and now look at us! We had to run away from our own world, just to survive!"

"Disturbing!" Derek grumbled "When our railway was led by one of them turned chairman, steam and diesel was withdrawn in entire classes, and lines were shut down in masses!"

"And did it helped them? NO!" CoBo grunted "All it was good for that the railway undercut itself in favor of road lobby!"

"Richard Beeching was his name." Cromwell shouted to a large gathering on the platform next to him "He was the mad axeman of the rails! He was supposed to save British Railways from being choked by dept. And instead, he went forth and outright murdered it! The road-lobbying government turned this mediocre businessman into our chairman! They KNEW he was going to screw us up as he "streamlined" our railway, but that's exactly why they selected him, personally!"

"Disorienting!" Bowler wailed to the workers of the chemical plant "We've ran away from our home to be safe from the grubby hands of big business, and for a short time, we were! But now, our fate has caught up with us! Common businessmen have the cheek to cross the Princesses, both our and your leaders!"

"And they aren't even REAL businessmen!" Stuck-Up shouted to the crowd of workponies around him "They're just conmen trying to make a fortune out of the obstruction of the national railway! They hold up one of my comrades for ransom!"

The crowd, and all the crowds gathering around preaching engines, coaches and trucks, were getting agitated.

"We engines had to suffer from merciless and uncaring tie-necks, empowered or enriched, for FAR TOO LONG!" Diesel shouted "Now, they make an attempt at our lives once more, and this time, they care NOT about what they sweep aside in order to reach their goal. They now endanger YOU, the working equines as well!"

The crowd, still growing in size, began to roar, cheering at the words of the engine, and booing at the thought of the conponies.

"We shall stand to this nonsense for the LAST TIME!" the shunter went on" Businessmen and slimy politicians have been the death of entire classes! They've withdrawn us mercilessly, no matter our age or our conditions! Now, two amateurs of their own, disgusting field thinks that they can grease the hooves of the Princesses themselves!"

The crowd went mad.

"Seize them!"

"Lynch them!"

"HANG THEM!"

"We practiced tolerance towards them, as we should!" the Class 08 continued "We all hoped they would change, and continue their own, otherwise respectable work while taking regard of the lives and futures may endanger, but our hopes were false! They have ruined our lives for the last time, and had withdrawn the last of us! NO MORE!"

"NO MORE! NO MORE!" the crowd bellowed.

"Vincent!" Diesel called out to the Class 42 "Please, take care of that two "entrepreneurs"! Their parasitic behavior ends NOW! You're the strongest among all of us! Go and withdraw them!"

"Wi'h pleasure!" Diesel 10 smirked, and started off, the long aperture on his top opening, revealing his strong hydraulic claw, which snapped hungrily, throwing sparks as metal met metal.

The crowd began to follow the Warship (apart from a few workponies who knew they had to continue work), roaring all the way.

"WITHDRAW THEM! WITHDRAW THEM!"

Twilight watched, petrified, as the large diesel slipped onto the industrial line, the crow following him like a shadow, shouting all the way, before disappearing into the distance.

As the last of them went out of sight, the words burst out of her.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, YOU STUPID GRONK?!"

Diesel cringed upon hearing his class' nickname, and blinked profusely, as if waking from a fever dream.

"Huh... Wha'?"

"You've just set off a crowd, drooling for the blood of the Flim-Flam brothers!"

After Diesel registered what the mare said, and rewinded the events of the last 20 minutes in his mind, he cursed out loud:

"FUCK! We gotta stop 'em, and quick!"

"Good idea!" Twilight muttered, rolling her eyes, as she set the reverser into "forward" position...

Back at the back of Sweet Apple Acres, the two diesels had a look of utter disdain on their faces.

While the entire line was set ablaze, they heard out the reasoning of the two stallions, and were left - surprise, surprise - rather unimpressed.
Applejack herself was having a hard time, resisting the urge to just turn around, and leave the two conponies to swim in their own stupidity.

Their woes, however, were soon washed away, as they heard the low rumble of an engine's motor. Spamcan recognized it immediately, and a wicked smirk appeared on his face.

The mare still looked puzzled, and exchanged confused looks with Falcon's driver.

It also seemed that the two brothers were having a trouble keeping their damn mouths shut.

"Oh dear, can you hear this, brother?" Flam asked with mock surprise "Sounds like another train is coming!"

"Well, it'll obviously have to stop." Flim replied, sneering "As far as I know, and I had read about the topic, regulations dictate that they should try to stop in case there's something blocking the line!"

The next second, Diesel 10 roared onto the scene on the other track beside Spamcan. He lowered his arm, his claw clamping shut around the middle of the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000, crushing the sofa on it. He lifted off from the rails, above his roof, and then, with a swift move, tossed it aside, onto the far end of the yard.

It landed in the dried out ditch, after turning around numerous axes along the way. The large electron tubes on it were smashed, the great wheels at the front were broken to pieces, along with both axles, the machinery on the back was nothing more than a pile of broken cogs, pipes and wires. The broken sofa, the stand at the front, and what little decoration was on the side of the automobile carriage was now thorn and cowered in mud.

Vincent sneered, as he lowered his claw.

"Nice goin', Vincent!" Spamcan jeered.

"That'll teach 'em!" Applejack smirked.

Still shocked by the sudden destruction of their machine, the brothers took no notice of the raging crow that swarmed the area.

"WITHDRAW THEM! WITHDRAW THEM!" they roared, surrounding the two stallions with absolutely murderous looks on their faces.
The mare and her engine were stunned.

"Th' heck ar' they talkin' about?!" Applejack asked.

"I dunno..." D199 replied "Bu' i' doesn' loo' goo'."

The mass drew closer and closer to the two ponies, encircling them. And the circle began to shrink.

Smaller and smaller and smaller it grew...

As the crowd still roared and screeched:

"WITHDRAW THEM! WITHDRAW THEM!"

"ENOUGH!"

All froze, and slowly, turned towards the source of the voice.

The crowd backed away from around the two stallions, and stared.

The Princesses, along with Discord and Alexei, stood beside Falcon, looking very disappointed.

"Isn't this a bit excessive?" Falcon asked "You can't just leave your office every time something comes up."

The Controller gave him a tired look.

"Dude, I'm practically a freaking supercomputer. I plowed through all the paperwork in a matter of nanoseconds. Heck, I even dealt with all of Celly's backlog."

"...Who's backlog?" the Class 53 asked.

"ANYWAYS..." the Chairmare went on, putting a hoof in front of the figure's mouth "What's going on? Why is there an angry mob?"

She then scoffed.

"There's never an angry mob when I mess up something!" she muttered to herself, sulkily "Why can't I get a honest review of my work?"

After having her sister's mouth covered up, Luna turned to the crowd.

"So, what's wrong?"

Everyone started to talk in the same time.

Alexei finally peeled Celestia's hoof of his mouth.

"SILENCE!" he roared.

Everyone fell silent.

"Well it's clear that NONE OF YOU can make any sense!" he boomed, before turning to the chimera "Discord, you take it from here."

Many gasped.

The draconequus took a good, thorough look on the crowd.

Finding nothing of interest, he moved onto the engines, and their crew.

Falcon and his driver gave him a puzzled look.

Spamcan sniffed, and gave him a look of reticence, while Applejack gazed at him with a mix of defiance and nervousness.

Vincent grinned at him, which made him take aback, especially when he noticed he had no driver.

Finally, he gazed at the Flim-Flam brothers, and, after a bit of thinking, spoke up.

"Well, THEY were encircled by the angry mob, so logically, either they are the culprits of the event, OR, they are the victims of it."

"We are victims!" Flim cried.

"Victims of great injustice!" Flam added.

"Injus'ice, my ARSE!" the goods engine cursed.

"Alright, we'll listen to your story..." the tall figure muttered, crossing his arms "So out with it. Lay it all upon us."

A good 20 minutes later, he wasn't so pleased anymore.

"So you lost the race, because..." he stopped, momentarily, shaking his head with a groan "You rushed in the end, ruining the quality of the last few barrels of cider... Then..."

He groaned again, rubbing his round head...

"You opened the very last barrel of crap quality cider, and lost the race..."

The brothers nodded.

"And now..." Celestia muttered, hardly managing to suppress her own groan "You came back, and block the lines as a form of protest, so as to gain our help in... What exactly?"

"Gain justice!" Flam exclaimed.

"Justice?" Luna uttered, exchanging bemused looks with her sister "You lost, because you were STUPID, fair and square."

"You also boasted that Applejack could get ALL the help in Equestria, and it wouldn't matter to you." Celestia added "Have you taken account of the fact that she's... I don't know... The Element of Honesty?"

The two stallions WERE surprised.

"Uh... No?" Flam replied.

"And as one of the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony, AND Canterlot's main supplier of apples, she's one of our closest friend..." the Moon Goddess added "You practically called out fate itself against yourself..."

"Ah contemplated callin' th' Princesses fer help." Applejack spoke up "But Ah thought "Nah, that would be too unfair"..."

"And now... You're here..." Discord finished "Blocking the line..."

"We're on strike." Flim explained.

"We demand our rights to be recognized." his brother added "So we decided to occupy this line so that the Princesses would recognized our cause!"

There was a loud "BANG!".

Ponies looked around, surprised, wandering where the explosion came from.

Slowly, their gazes returned to the four deities.

Alexei had his hand cowering his face, his shattered glasses slowly falling out from under his palm - he had slapped his own face so hard that it left a red imprint of his hand on his gray skin.

He was trembling...

"Uh... Alex?" the older princess asked.

Slowly, the figure's shaking hand slipped down from his face.

His eyes were squinted with rage, and he snarling.

The first sentence burst out of him like a volcano eruption.

"YOU MORONS!"

After the aftershocks have ceased, and everypony got back on their hooves, the figure elaborated his statement.

"Morons!" he repeated "You can't be striking!"

"Why?!" Flim snapped back "Don't we have the right to do so?!"

"No, it's that it doesn't work that way..." Celestia explained, but upon seeing the confused looks on the brothers' faces, she merely sighed, and turned to the others.

"You're freelancers, correct?" Luna asked on a scientific tone.

"We're entrepreneurs!" Flam declared.

"Uh-huh." the younger alicorn mused "That means your not part of any form of organization, like a labor, or trade union... Or am I mistaken?"

"N-No..." the two stallions replied "We aren't."

"Well, there you have it." Alexei exhaled "The right to strike, to protest with the cease of all work, for an indefinite time, as mostly practiced by members of trade-, and labor unions, who had associated to stand up for their rights as workers. They strike in order to achieve something, to gain attention, so that people would listen to what they have to say: that they need higher wages, or better working conditions, new equipment, better treatment, et cetera..."

"The point is..." Celestia continued "That striking is only effective, or indeed meaningful, if a lot of ponies are doing in order to gain attention, or quicken the pace of the authorities' reaction to their pleas. And members are not striking just to get their own back, but also, out of solidarity for their fellow workers. If somepony is on strike, it means that no work gets done, so they aren't getting paid for extended periods of time."

"But you two are freelancers..." Luna went on "You make business on your own, which means, YOU got to look after yourself!"

"For you, being on strike is..." Discord searched for the right word "...Stupidly pointless..."

The brothers finally understood.

They didn't seemed very happy.

"But... Our machine...!" Flim began.

"It's your property." Luna replied coldly "YOU are responsible for it. And as I recall, YOU left it on the railway line, in the path of trains. You were just ASKING for an accident!"

"But that engine...! He...!" Flam tried, pointing an accusing hoof at Diesel 10.

"He did his job, clearing the rails of an obstruction." the white alicorn answered "And since this is... Was... YOUR wagon, YOU were supposed to look after it. Do you have an insurance?"

The two brothers made scrunched faces.

The deities raised an eyebrow.

"Well then." Discord replied, preparing to turn around.

"We're not done here just yet..." Alexei spoke, grabbing the draconequus by the shoulder.

"Aren't we?" he asked back.

"No." the Controller spoke sharply, turning back to the brothers.

Flim and Flam squirmed under the glares of the four deities, as they stood in a half circle.

"The obstruction of a railway line, ANY railway line, is source of delay in the works of the national railway network." the Controller spoke.

"MEANING that passengers or goods can be held up and delayed from reaching their destinations, which can cause both the railway, and the costumers property damage in the form of further delays in other fields of business, and the spoilage of certain goods." the Director continued "Not only that. but it also ruins the honor of the railway, WHICH can to the loss of costumers, which, in turn, causes a not insignificant loss in profit."

"And if the railway looses profit, then, as it is national transport company, the state has to compensate in order to keep it running properly." the Chairmare elaborated "The only way this can be done is through raising taxes, or redirecting the national fund, so that more flows into the rails. I don't think I need to explain that not everyone agrees with rising taxes, not to mention that the rails aren't the only thing the state needs to spend money on.

"But... But this is just an industrial line..." Flim muttered.

"That may be..." the princess went on, before glancing at Falcon "But as part of the railway network, it plays an important part in relieving the main line from congestion and traffic pressure."

"Also..." her sister added "This particular line is under the supervision of the Apple family, as the only facility of any sorts that this line is connected to is their farmland."

"Although they don't OWN the rails..." Alexei explained "They have the appointed right to use it, as they are the ones who'll most likely make use of it, and can rightfully consider, AT THE VERY LEAST, this small yard to be their property."

"So, in this case..." Applejack concluded "Yer not only causin' trouble fer th' Princesses, ye're also trespassing and causin' a mess fer me!"

"Well, lads..." Spamcan smirked "You're in a 'eap o' trouble!"

"But don't feel threat..." Luna hummed, giving them a cheshire grin "I'm pretty sure that our railway will be gracious and accept you among it's employees, as you pay back all the property damage..."

"Or shall I say... Get the bits to fix your wagon?" Discord added, grinning the same way.

The brothers gulped in unison.

And then, the two alicorns, the draconequus, and the former wanderer took their turns to look puzzled.

"All the same..." the controller muttered "Why the angry mob?"

Members of said group exchanged looks.

Just then, Discord spotted something in the corner of his eye.

He first thought it was just a floater, but decided it was best if he checked.

"Do YOU TWO know anything about it?"

Diesel froze, teeth gritted.

Twilight poked her head out of the cab, a strained grin on her face.

Their supperiors gave them a long stare.

"Uuuuuuuuhhhh..." the shunter began.

"Ummmmmm..." the mare went on.

"WE CAN EXPLAIN!" they spoke in unison.

And that, dear readers, is how Flim and Flam ended up in the railway business.

Well, in the railway, anyways...

At first, they tried to work in the buffet cars, but as it turned out, they were only as good at making drinks as their machine was.
So - at the speed of light, in terms of bureaucracy -, they were repositioned into good old-fashioned manual labor... Within the fields of shunting...

But hey!

At least Splatter and Dodge got their respective drivers!

. . .

That was the worst ending, EVER!

Oh, by the way...

Lion and Falcon's tests were successful, and they were located to - where else? - Canterlot!