**The Race Between Thomas and Rosie**

Prompt: (Thomas The Tank Engine And Rosie The Tank Engine) Thomas and Rosie decide to race each through Sodor to see who arrives at Knapford first. Thomas had been bullying Rosie all month long undermining her skills just because she's female, so the dispute was set. Rosie tells him that if he wins she will have the workmen get rid of her pink paintwork and change her paint color to any different color but if he loses he will have to have his painted number 1 logo erased by the workmen and have them paint it onto her instead and afterwards admit that she's superior and that he was wrong to underestimate her, and most especially he will have to admit she is the true number 1 tank engine, and do so publicly for everyone on Sodor to witness, whether he likes it or not. And so the race occurs an hour later. (both characters are cocky, the story doesn't include any other engines besides them until after the first part of the bet is finished) (no reconciliation, comeuppance, and ends with the loser reluctantly holding up their end of the bet and quietly sulking afterwards) (Rosie Wins) (Rosie wins the race entirely unfazed while Thomas slowly catches up to her completely worn out and embarrassed)

On the picturesque Island of Sodor, the skies were bright and the sun shone down warmly as Thomas the Tank Engine whizzed along the tracks. However, despite the cheerful surroundings, an underlying tension brewed as Thomas had been teasing Rosie mercilessly for weeks. With her bright pink paint and her bubbly personality, Rosie was a beloved engine, but Thomas chose to overlook her skills, constantly belittling her just because she was female. “Pink is for girls, Rosie!” Thomas would chortle with a smug smile. “You’ll never be as fast as me! You’re just a charm in the yard!” Rosie, with a determined glint in her eye, grew tired of Thomas's relentless taunts. It was time to show him that she was no less of an engine than he was. When the opportunity to challenge him to a race appeared, she took it. “Let’s race to Knapford Station!” Rosie declared one sunny afternoon, her wheels trembling with excitement. “If you win, I’ll let the workmen change my pink paint to any color you want. But if I win, you’ll have to erase your number 1 logo and let them paint it onto me instead. Then, you’ll publicly admit that I’m superior and that I’ve been underappreciated!” For a moment, Thomas squirmed at the thought of the humiliation, but his overconfidence won out. “Deal! You’ll never beat me!” he laughed, puffing out his chest proudly. As the hour approached, both engines readied themselves for the race. Engines gathered along the tracks, excited whispers rippling through the air, each engine eager to witness the showdown between the cocky steam engines. Banners waved and flags fluttered as Sodor’s finest gathered to see who would claim victory. “Prepare yourself for defeat, Rosie!” Thomas shouted, revving his pistons. “I am the one and only number 1!” Rosie smirked, undeterred by his words. “Just watch me, Thomas! You’re about to eat your own words!” With a sharp blast of their whistles, the engines surged forward, racing down the winding tracks. The landscape zipped by: lush green hills rolled along the edges, and the scent of wildflowers filled the air. As they approached the first bend, Rosie rocketed ahead, drawing on her nimble nature and speed. Unlike Thomas, who was slowly finding himself strained and out of breath, Rosie kept a steady pace, maintaining her lead. She felt invigorated; this was her moment to shine! The route to Knapford was always filled with challenges, but she was determined to tackle each one with enthusiasm, proving to everyone—especially to Thomas—that she was indeed a force to be reckoned with. As Thomas clanked behind her, he gritted his gears in frustration. How could he be letting her outrun him? He pushed himself harder, yet Rosie seemed unfazed, bolting past scenic vistas with ease. He tried to call out to her, but his voice was drowned beneath the roar of the wind. “You won’t win this race!” he yelled, but it only sounded desperate, a sign of his weariness. As they traversed the valley, Rosie rounded an embankment and spotted a group of ducks waddling along the water’s edge. She chuckled softly to herself. “Maybe I should choose pink and red stripes next!” she mused, cleverly focusing on the joyous moment rather than on the rivalry. Meanwhile, Thomas struggled to keep up. His tank was starting to feel heavy, like an anchor weighing him down, while every bubble of steam seemed to mock him. “I can’t let her win,” he muttered, “I’m Thomas the Tank Engine!” But no matter how hard he tried, Rosie’s cheerful chuffing echoed ahead, becoming louder as he fell further behind. The strain in his wheels became evident; his face was damp with sweat, and embarrassment was beginning to gnaw at him more than fatigue. As they approached the final stretch, with Knapford Station in sight, Rosie looked back and noticed Thomas—once so proud and steadfast—plodding along with less enthusiasm than ever. Her heart raced not necessarily from the speed, but from the elation of what it felt like to break boundaries. With a final push and bright determination, Rosie whizzed across the finish line, her whistle sounding a triumphant note that swept over the noise of the gathered engines. She couldn’t help but beam with joy as she basked in the glory of victory. Thomas finally puffed in behind her, his engine sputtering and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The crowd erupted in cheers for Rosie, their cheers echoing across the platform. It felt fantastic for Rosie, and the sound of their joy was music to her ears. However, amid the celebration, the weight of their bet hung over Thomas like a dark cloud. He felt the eyes of every engine on him as he reluctantly approached Rosie. With a sigh and head hung low, he spoke quietly. “I… I guess I was wrong, Rosie. You’re superior. You are the true number 1.” The way Thomas admitted it left a sour taste in his mouth. It felt heavy, wrapped in the dismay of conceding defeat. As Rosie’s bell rang with glee, he turned away, wondering how he could face the other engines, thoughts spinning about how he’d ever live this down. As he sulked to a nearby siding to await the workmen who would erase his logo, Rosie beamed with pride, knowing that she had not only won the race but had also shattered a stereotype along the way. Today was her day, and it felt magnificent, even if it meant she had to watch Thomas sulking from a distance.