Disclaimer: I don't own Thomas the Tank Engine

This story was made as a joke with friends, it's not meant to be taken seriously. We based the plot off of a picture of Thomas we saw online.

No train had ever touched Thomas like this before. His wheels felt weak. They quivered with excitement. "Want to come back to my station with me? We could… let off a little steam?" Thomas shyly asked the train.

The train nodded. "My wheels haven't been greased in a long time," he whispered seductively to Thomas. Thomas again felt his wheels quivering. Thomas couldn't help but let out a toot.

Thomas led the train back to his station. They entered and closed the doors behind him. The train began vibrating his wheels against Thomas's back and Thomas began to shake with locomotive pleasure. "Oh train!" Cried Thomas.

"Call me Gibson," the train said.

"Oh Gibson!" Thomas cried again. "You make my wheels spin."

"Thomas!" Gibson groaned. "Rub your pistons against me!"

Thomas began to grind into Gibson with a vigorous force.

"Yes, yes! Thomas! Harder!" Gibson shrieked.

Gibson shook with intensity as Thomas rammed into him again and again. "You ready for my special load?" Gibson grunted out. Thomas nodded. Oil quickly sloshed over Gibson's wheels, coating the both of them.

"Oh dear!" gasped Thomas. He too spayed out a hot layer of oil. The two trains lay wheezing on the station floor. The room was filed with a thick oil scent and clouds of steam that had fogged up the windows.

After resting for a few minutes, Thomas finally mustered the energy to stand up.

"We've been here for a while Thomas," Gibson murmured, "Would you please check what time it is?"

"I'll look out the window at the big clock outside," Thomas answered.

"I've got a big clock in here," Gibson joked.

Thomas rolled his eyes and wiped some of the steam off the window to see outside. To his surprise he saw another train, covered in a thick layer of oil. The train's eyes were closed and he was letting out puffs of smoke. A contented smile lay on his face.

"Gibson…?" Thomas called, "There's another train out there. And he's oily."

"Is he?" Gibson asked. "Invite him in."

The third train jumped up as Thomas opened the door. "I – I," he stammered.

"Did we make you oil?" Thomas asked with glee.

The train nodded. "You made my horn blow."

"My friend would like me to invite you in," Thomas told the train.

"I would like that very much!"

Toot toooooot, was Thomas's only response.

The two trains went into the station to join Gibson, who was grinding his wheels against the track.

"Join me, please!" Gibson begged, "I need more!"

The third train and Thomas glanced at each other, and quickly jumped in with Gibson. The three different types of wheels are met in a ferocious lovemaking. Oil was flying, all three thoroughly greased. After some time, the trains were contented. The third train's engine let out a steady hum.

The third train turned to Thomas, "By the way, my name is –"

BOOM! The electricity in the third train's new-fangled engine let out a spark. Combined with the oil that was abundant all over the trainy threesome, a fiery explosion was created that rocked through the station. Train parts rained down amongst the crumbling walls. Thomas and the new train were dead.

Gibson stared at his lovers, his own body torn in two. He gasped for breath, and with a hoarse voice croaked out. "No, my love, no!" He was the end of his line; his head drooped down on the station floor and his eyes closed forever. And the trains died together.

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