**The Race of Pride**
Prompt: (Thomas The Tank Engine And Rosie The Pink 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 for her feminine nature, so the dispute is set. Rosie tells him that if he wins she will get rid of her pink paintwork and change her paint color to red but if he loses she will have to have his number 1 logo taken away and give it to her instead. And so the race occurs an hour later. (both characters are sassy, the story doesn't include any other engines besides them) (no reconciliation, comeuppance, and ends with the loser reluctantly holding up their end of the bet and quietly sulking afterwards)
The sun rose brightly over the Island of Sodor, casting a warm glow on the vibrant landscapes. As Thomas the Tank Engine puffed out of Tidmouth Sheds, he couldn’t shake the smug grin from his face. He spotted Rosie, the pink tank engine, gleaming in her femininity, as usual. “Well, if it isn’t the dainty little tank!” he called out, chuckling softly.
“What do you want, Thomas?” she retorted, her wheels churning with annoyance. “Can’t you see I’m busy with my daily tasks?”
“Busy with what? Polishing your pink paintwork?” Thomas teased. “That shade won’t get you anywhere on Sodor! Maybe you need to toughen up a bit. I mean, pink? Really?”
Rosie’s cheeks flared with embarrassment, but she wasn’t about to let Thomas have the last laugh. “At least I have my own unique style, unlike you, Thomas! Everyone knows you’re just plain blue. I’d much rather be pink than dull!”
Their playful banter had turned into a game of insults that stretched throughout the month. It was all fun and games until Rosie, tired of Thomas' relentless ribbing, proposed a challenge. “How about a race?” she challenged, determination glowing in her ruby-red eyes.
“A race?” Thomas scoffed, a smirk forming between his wheels. “You actually think you can beat me? You’ll just have to admit defeat when I win!”
“And what are the stakes?” Rosie challenged, a glint of mischief dancing in her headlights.
Thomas thought for a moment, then shot back, “If I win, you’ll get rid of that ridiculous pink paint and paint yourself red. Reds are the color of true engines!”
Rosie, not one to back down, shot him a defiant look with her big, bright eyes. “And if I win, you have to give your number 1 logo to me. I mean, if I’m going to be red, I might as well be the number 1 engine!”
“Fine! It’s a bet!” Thomas laughed. He was confident he’d crush Rosie in the race. An hour later, with the steam rising from their engines and the wind lifting their spirits, they lined up at the starting point near Knapford.
“Ready, set, go!” Rosie shouted, and the two engines shot off, racing through the lush green fields of Sodor. Thomas was fast, no doubt. He puffed his little heart out, feeling fearless as he charged ahead in a burst of blue energy.
“Oh, c’mon, Rosie! You can do better than that!” he called back tauntingly, as he pulled ahead. But Rosie wasn’t about to let his mockery slow her down. She grit her wheels and focused more than she ever had.
With the bright sun overhead, they puffed down the winding tracks together, Rosie’s wheels clicking rhythmically against the metal. She could hear the rhythm of her heart beating, aware of every clattering rail beneath her as they sped past fields dotted with wildflowers and lush grassland.
Thomas zipped through tunnels and across bridges, reveling in the thrill of the race. “You’re going to have to move a little faster if you want to keep up! Are you stuck in slow motion?” he teased, a boisterous laugh echoing into the distance.
“Just watch me!” Rosie called back, her sass igniting a fire in her steam engine. Thomas felt a jolt of competitiveness. She was gaining on him, and that wasn’t his favorite feeling.
They reached a wide stretch of the mainline, where the sun gleamed down like a spotlight. Thomas, feeling the heat of competition, pushed himself even harder. He wanted that victory more than anything. The wind whistled by as he raced toward Knapford, but behind him, he heard the fierce sound of Rosie’s whistle echoing.
With a powerful surge, Rosie rocketed ahead, determined to prove she could match Thomas on every curve. The two engines raced neck and neck, steam billowing, their wheels spinning with enthusiasm. Rosie twisted and turned deftly, maneuvering through the hurdles with surprising agility.
“Is that the best you’ve got?” Thomas called back, though something in his voice wavered—a hint of doubt creeping in. As they drew closer to Knapford, it became clear to both engines that the finish line was within striking distance, and neither of them showed signs of slowing down.
In an adrenaline-fueled clash, they approached the final stretch—a steep incline that leads right into Knapford station. Thomas poured all his energy into climbing, steam billowing as he puffed steadily upward. But Rosie wasn't ready to settle for second. With a shattering whistle, she pushed herself harder, feeling the pink paintwork on her engine radiate with passion.
But, alas, it was not enough. With a faster surge and a final push, Thomas crossed the finish line first, raising a cheer that rang throughout Sodor. His engine whirred triumphantly, and for a moment, he reveled in the glory of his victory. He had won, and he wouldn’t let Rosie forget it.
Rosie arrived shortly after, puffing with exhaustion, and a begrudging frown creased her façade. “You may have won, Thomas,” she said, her voice strained yet laced with sass, “but this isn’t over. Being number 1 doesn’t make you better than me.”
“Sure, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice dripping with mockery, “just remember, bye-bye pink!” He felt a rush of vindication, but he couldn’t ignore the simmering annoyance radiating from Rosie.
In a hurried, reluctant display of surrender, Rosie puffed to a stop and let out a heavy sigh. “Alright, a bet’s a bet,” she mumbled, sulking quietly. She didn’t relish the idea of changing her paint to red, but losing meant facing that shame he had so proclaimed.
As the sun began to set over the Island of Sodor, Thomas couldn't help but bask in his triumph, though a small part of him felt the weight of Rosie's quiet disappointment. While he may have won the race, the remnants of their banter lingered, and he secretly wondered if there were more challenges ahead—but for now, he was just a content little blue engine with a number 1 to call his own.
