The Fat Controller sat in his office and mopped his brow. He had not had a good day. "Bother Her Majesty's Revenue & Customs," he grumbled and polished off the hot buttered teacake that had previously sat with three others on his plate. His back was playing him up again and he didn't have the enthusiasm to deal with the papers on his desk.
"Surely the role of a Controller is to play trains and not to deal with every tuppenny-bit pettyfogging official that cares to come knocking," he mused to himself. "What I need are some more locomotives! When you're down, a new locomotive always helps; look at Percy and Toby and why even a diesel like Mavis!" He rumaged in his lower drawer and brought out the new N8. "Yes, you need your lining finishing," he thought, "but otherwise I think you will do very nicely."
"Do you have a name?" he kindly asked the train as he took out his decals and MicroSol.
The Fat Controller's wife stood at the doorway and shook her head. "I really must take him out more," she thought to herself as she quietly closed the door.