The Train Doctor

 The Maintenance Men

It was turning into a frustrating morning at the Preiserling’s loco depot.
Since about 5:00am Bert and Bart had been lighting up good old 44-690 from cold, and getting her ready for another day’s work.

They had lit the fire and just got to the stage where there was enough steam to run the blowers when – “Look out” shouted Bert, and a giant, 87 times over-sized hand appeared out of the blue and plucked loco and tender off the rails in one big grab.  Luckily, the 2 Preiserlings had time to jump clear, but they were pretty upset about it all the same.

 
“Damn”, said Bert, “He’s done it again, doesn’t he trust us?” They had oiled up all the running gear nicely, but apparently the owner thought they’d made a bit of a hash of it. Next thing the loco was upside down in a stupendously large cradle, the front bogie was off, a few screws were removed, and the whole body was lying on the depot floor. Luckily Dave the driver, hanging upside down, was glued into the cab by the seat of his pants or things could have turned out very badly indeed. (H & S issue here, and the callous giant owner didn’t even seem to hear Dave’s shouts of indignation)

There was some very loud (to a Preiserling’s ear) muttering coming from the owner: “Bloody Preiserlings have over-done it again” and the fruit of the small people's labour was swept away by a tidal wave of grease solvent. A single drop from a giant oil can splashed onto the armature spindle bearings, a bit of tweaking and twanging went on around the brush springs, and a minute later Bert and Bart were running for their lives again as the loco crashed back onto the tracks beside them.
“I really wish he wouldn’t do that” muttered Bert as Bart administered paracetamol to the rather shell-shocked driver, but he did have to admit that when Dave had recovered sufficiently to get her moving, the old girl ran very nicely indeed.