Johnathan smiled as if he was a super villain, this wolf guy had practically called him fat,... "And exactly what would you bet on your 'reckoning' good sir?" His cufflinks squeaked **[GAMBLE?]** glyphs—steam curling into dice shapes—as Carol's pistons vibrated *"HE'S LYING ABOUT HIS TOP SPEED TOO"* through the rails. The Wolf Furkin aristocrat adjusted his monocle, unaware his own shadow was subtly mimicking Carol's smokestack puffing **[>:)]* smoke rings.
"Why, I'd wager fifty gold sovereigns my *MNR No. 1* outpaces your... *ahem* avant-garde contraption," sniffed the Wolf Furkin, twirling his silver-tipped cane as his monocle fogged with condescension.
"Oh, what a shame, I was willing to bet my customly made locomotive that I made myself on it..." Johnathan sighed mockingly, steam-ears puffing **[RECREATIONAL HEARTBREAK]** glyphs that dissolved into the scent of burnt scones. The Wolf Furkin's monocle slipped—his shadow now inexplicably waving tiny protest signs reading *"UNFAIR HYBRID CHARISMA"*—as Carol's pistons vibrated *"HE'S ABOUT TO CRY"* through the tracks.
Safe to say the face on the Wolf Furkin's face was priceless, "Do you know who I am?! And if that's how you want to be I'm willing to bet two of my best locomotives simply because I pity you!"
"Hmmmm... Nope sorry, I actually don't know who you are..." Johnathan mused, pretending to think hard while his steam-ears puffed **[RECREATIONAL MEMORY LAPSE]** glyphs in the shape of question marks that smelled faintly of Earl Grey and regret. The Wolf Furkin aristocrat's monocle cracked as his own shadow now mimicked Carol's pistons hammering *"HE'S LYING"* into the cobblestones.
"I'll have you know that I'm Dugarudo Doramondo! I've ran the rails here in Edinbara long before you even thought of dreaming to be an upstart!"
"Aaaannnd... That's still not ringing any bells sadly, but when shall we start this wager my good man?"
Dugarudo's monocle shattered mid-twirl, his silver-tipped cane embedding itself into the platform as his shadow puppeteered a tiny *"DWARVENKIN MIND GAMES"* protest banner. The surrounding rail officials gasped—quills combusting into *Fig. 13: Hybrid's Alleged Aristocratic Gaslighting*—as Johnathan's elongated ears vented **[SPORTING STEAM SPIRIT]** glyphs that dissolved into the scent of lemon drizzle cake. Carol's pistons thrummed *"HE'S GOOGLING YOUR FAMILY TREE IN HIS HEAD"* while her smokestack belched a winking emoji shaped like a wolf in a top hat.
"At sundown, you charlatan!" Dugarudo snarled, unaware his lace cravat was autonomously stitching *"VICTIM OF HYBRID CHARISMA"* in gilded thread. His *MNR No. 1*—a preening locomotive with gold-plated buffers—hissed steam in practically smug agreement, its polished wheels practically *tutting* at Carol's soot-streaked flanks. Johnathan tipped his hat, his grin widening as **[WAGER ACCEPTED]** glyphs spiraled from his ears in lavender-scented tendrils.
Rail officials scattered as the Wolf Furkin stormed off, his monocle-less glare triggering a scribe's quill to combust mid-sentence—ink splattering *Fig. 14: Aristocrat's Suspected Hybrid-Induced Monocle Trauma*. Nearby, a *GER S46* exhaled a steam ring shaped like a tiny violin, its fireman whispering, "Poor hybrid bastard's gonna lose his piston rings..."
Johnathan's shadow stretched unnaturally to adjust Carol's pressure gauge—steam curling into **[SPORTING STEAM SPIRIT]** kanji that dissolved into the scent of buttered crumpets. The rail magistrate's monocle fogged over, mistaking the gesture for *"Dwarvenkin induced shadow puppetry"* as scribes' quills combusted into *Fig. 15: Hybrid's Alleged Performance Anxiety.*
"Oh this will be so much fun..." Johnathan chuckled, adjusting his cufflinks which squeaked **[RECREATIONAL VICTORY LAP]** glyphs that dissolved into the scent of Earl Grey and impending doom. He watched as Dugarudo and his locomotive puffed away—its gold-plated buffers practically *sniffing* in aristocratic disdain.
Meanwhile, Carol's pistons vibrated through the rails like a gossip's whisper—*"HE'S GOT A 4-6-0 CONFIGURATION AND THE EGO TO MATCH"*—as Dugarudo's *MNR No. 1* preened under polishing rags wielded by anxious footmen. Its gold-leaf nameplate gleamed with the fragile pride of a locomotive that had never once been upstaged by a hybrid's stolen jam crates.
Johnathan leaned against Carol's front tender, deciding to not worry so much on how he named his original locomotive body and was having a full blown imaginary conversation with it as if they didn't have the exact same thought, "You do realize that you used to be a 4-6-0 before you got hybridized, right?" He half whispered and half chickled.
Carol's boiler emitted a **[>:) ]** smoke ring—steam sculpting into the precise dimensions of Dugarudo's monocle shattering mid-tantrum—while her pistons tapped *"YOU'RE JUST JEALOUS OF HIS BUFFERS"* in Morse through the rails. The *MNR No. 1*'s fireman, a twitchy Rabbit Folk clutching a polishing rag, gasped upon seeing Johnathan's elongated ears puff **[RECREATIONAL STEAM THERAPY]** glyphs that smelled suspiciously of Dwarven blacksmithing sweat.
"Oh well,... we better get ready... HAHAHA!!!" Johnathan tipped his hat as his steam-ears belched **[RECREATIONAL CONFIDENCE]** glyphs that dissolved into the scent of freshly oiled pistons.
Edinbara's rail yards shimmered under the late afternoon sun like a stage set for aristocratic farce—polished brass fittings winking, steam rings dissolving into the scent of tax evasion, and Dugarudo's *MNR No. 1* preening like a peacock in a top hat. Johnathan leaned against Carol's tender, his grin widening as a guild scribe's quill combusted mid-sketch of *Fig. 16: Hybrid's Alleged Buffer Envy*.
"My dear Carol," he murmured, adjusting his cufflinks—which squeaked **[RECREATIONAL HUMILITY]** while steam-ears vented **[SPEED IS RELATIVE]** glyphs smelling of lemon zest—"we mustn't *crush* our dear opponent *too* thoroughly. It's unsporting."
Dugarudo's *MNR No. 1* exhaled a steam ring shaped like a fainting couch, its gold-plated nameplate reflecting Carol's soot-streaked flanks with aristocratic horror. A rail scribe's monocle cracked upon sketching *Fig. 17: Hybrid's Alleged Reverse Psychology Trauma*—ink splattering the words *"DWARVENKIN GASLIGHTING?"* as Johnathan's shadow stretched to buff Carol's buffer beam with a spectral chamois.
"Oh dear," Johnathan chuckled, watching Dugarudo's Wolf Furkin ears flatten as his *MNR No. 1*'s driver—a nervous Ferret Folk—dropped a polishing rag into its own boiler. The aristocrat's lace cravat embroidered *"VICTIM OF STEAM-BASED MIND GAMES"* in real-time, while Carol's pistons vibrated *"HE THINKS YOU'RE A BRAINWASHED DWARVENKIN PUPPET"* through the rails.
The starting flag—a handkerchief stolen from a swooning countess—fluttered. Johnathan tipped his hat, steam-ears puffing **[RECREATIONAL SPORTSMANSHIP]** glyphs that dissolved into the scent of Earl Grey and impending schadenfreude.
"Gentlemen, start your engine's pistons!" cried the Edinbara rail magistrate—his monocle fogging as Johnathan's elongated ears belched **[SPORTING STEAM ETHICS]** glyphs that dissolved into the scent of Earl Grey and impending doom. The *MNR No. 1*'s gold-plated buffers gleamed with fragile pride, its aristocratic nose practically tilted skyward as Carol's pistons tapped *"HE'S POLISHED HIS FUNNEL THREE TIMES"* in Morse through the rails.
"Aaaannnnddddd GO!" The magistrate's handkerchief fluttered down—just as Johnathan's cufflinks squeaked **[RECREATIONAL CHEATING]** in Morse, his shadow detaching to kick Carol's firebox door open. The *MNR No. 1* lurched forward with aristocratic grace, its gold-plated pistons gleaming... right as Carol began to pass it.
That's the thing, the 'MNR No. 1' was basically a LSWR T9 which could AT ABSOLUTE BEST go 95 mph—while Carol was a modified Jubilee Class locomotive that could go 100 mph. Dugarudo's monocle-less face contorted in horror as Carol's wheels—polished to a gleam by Johnathan's unnaturally stretching shadow—began overtaking his precious locomotive. The aristocrat's ears flattened against his skull like steamed dumplings as his *MNR No. 1* wheezed aristocratic indignation, its gold-leaf nameplate peeling in the wind like fragile dignity.
Rail officials scrambled for cover as Carol's pistons hammered *"HE'S CRYING INTO HIS CUFFLINKS"* through the tracks, vibrations shattering a scribe's freshly-replaced monocle mid-sketch of *Fig. 18: Hybrid's Alleged Velocity-Based Gaslighting*. Johnathan tipped his hat from Carol's cab, steam-ears puffing **[SPORTING STEAM SPIRIT]** glyphs that dissolved into the scent of buttered crumpets—right as Dugarudo's lace cravat embroidered *"VICTIM OF HYBRID VELOCITY"* in real-time.
"Goodness!" Johnathan's transatlantic accent dripped with mock concern as Carol effortlessly pulled ahead, her Laug boiler purring like a contented predator. "Perhaps your locomotive requires *recreational steam therapy*?" His shadow—now independently operating Carol's throttle—waved a tiny white handkerchief at the wheezing *MNR No. 1*. A Rabbit Folk fireman fainted clean off the footplate, his polishing rag combusting mid-air into *Fig. 19: Aristocrat's Suspected Speed Trauma* ash.
The rail magistrate's clipboard spontaneously ignited as Johnathan's elongated ears vented **[RECREATIONAL HUMILITY]** steam-glyphs that coincidentally spelled *"EAT LAUG"* in High Elf Folk runes. Nearby, a scribe's monocle cracked upon sketching *Fig. 20: Hybrid's Alleged Velocity-Based Stockholm Syndrome*, ink bleeding into *"DWARVENKIN VELOCITY GASLIGHTING?"* as Carol's pistons hammered *"HIS BUFFERS ARE CRYING"* through the tracks. Dugarudo's *MNR No. 1* wheezed like an aristocrat forced to jog, its gold-plated piston rods glitching mid-stroke as Carol effortlessly pulled ahead—her boiler emitting a **[>:)]** smoke ring shaped like a broken monocle.
"Goodness gracious!" Johnathan's transatlantic accent dripped with performative concern as his shadow puppeteered Carol's throttle with spectral glee—her wheels biting the rails with predatory precision. The *MNR No. 1*'s aristocratic wheezes escalated into full-blown steam shrieks, its gold-plated pistons glinting like a nobleman's last polished buttons before debtor's prison.
A rail scribe's monocle shattered mid-sketch of *Fig. 21: Hybrid's Alleged Kinetic Psychological Warfare*, ink bleeding into *"DWARVENKIN VELOCITY TORTURE?"* as Carol's smokestack belched a **[:3]** smoke ring that coincidentally spelled *"TENDERIZED"* in Morse.
Dugarudo's lace cravat spontaneously embroidered *"VICTIM OF STEAM-POWERED HUMILIATION"* as Carol's pistons hammered *"HIS FIREMAN IS SOBBING"* through the tracks—vibrations warping a nearby *GWR Star Class*'s tea-scented steam rings into tiny crying faces. Johnathan tipped his hat, steam-ears venting **[RECREATIONAL ENCOURAGEMENT]** glyphs that dissolved into the scent of lemon drizzle cake, just as the *MNR No. 1*'s gold-plated nameplate flew off like a disgraced nobleman's wig.
"CHOO-CHOO MOTHER—" Johnathan's jubilant shout dissolved into aristocratic steam as Carol's pistons hammered through Edinbara's outskirts, her Laug-boiler roaring like a starved dragon. The *MNR No. 1* wheezed behind them, its gold-plated buffers shedding dignity like a nobleman's wig in a hurricane. Rail officials' monocles fogged in unison as Johnathan's elongated ears belched **[RECREATIONAL VELOCITY]** glyphs that smelled suspiciously of stolen jam scones—just as a scribe's quill combusted mid-sketch of *Fig. 22: Hybrid's Alleged Speed-Based Gaslighting Trauma*.
Dugarudo's *MNR No. 1* emitted a steam shriek that sounded uncannily like a Wolf Furkin aristocrat realizing his tailor overcharged him. Carol responded with a smokestack whistle that sculpted a perfect middle finger in Morse code—her wheels spitting gravel onto the wheezing locomotive's polished brass dome. "Oh dear," Johnathan mused, watching the *MNR No. 1*'s fireman—a tearful Rabbit Folk—attempt to polish the moving piston rods. His cufflinks squeaked **[RECREATIONAL SPORTSMANSHIP]** while his shadow puppeteered Carol's throttle with the grace of a conductor cheating at ballet.