Thomas The Train Meme Novels & Stories

CHAPTER 7 Thomas walked to the deck of the ship, as they sailed to Britain, he was thinking. ‘I think I’ve have done no wrong, by not waiting any further. That was Captains’ instruction.’ He shook his head in sadness, feeling moldy within. Ritaline looked at him from a distance, and knew he was thinking, she walked down to him. ‘What’s the matter, Thomas? I can see you’re feeling sad.’ Thomas looked at her, and replied, ‘Yes.’

Thomas was quiet for another moment, then suddenly he smiled—not his usual warm smile, but something more teasing, almost mischievous. "Are you afraid I'll get jealous?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Mia Williams, if you're that worried about it, maybe you should marry me quickly. Otherwise I'll have to worry that every man who looks like Kyle Branson is going to come along and steal my girlfriend." I stared at him for a beat, then burst out laughing. "Thomas!" "What? I'm serious," he said, but he was grinning now. "I mean, if there are Kyle Branson doppelgangers just wandering around, catching falling children and commissioning healing centers, I clearly need to step up my game."

Mikel woke up next to me, and he knew something was wrong right away. "What kind of press thing?" I asked, but I already knew I wasn't going to like it. Thomas was on the screen, standing at a podium. It looked like it was at the downtown Marriott. Even at 78, he had that Romano presence, the thing that built a whole empire. But his eyes looked really scary—like he was coolly planning something, but also super mad. "Folks," Thomas started, his voice sounding like he had been talking in boardrooms for decades. "I'm not here as a businessman today, but as a worried family member trying to help a kid."

Thomas was wearing shorts, a t-shirt and sneakers, all in black, like most times. As we walked, I ate a beef burger and Thomas had a beer, while I told him what happened. “Finally, I thought this would never happen,” Thomas commented, smiling. I laughed, as I didn't expect that answer. “It was obvious that you were crazy about each other. “Was it that obvious? “Of course! “ Thomas smiled, nodding his head. I smiled, remembering the moment he rescued me from the bandit. “But then, is he good in bed?

"So what did you learn in school?" Noah puffed out his chest. "I know addition." "Oh?" "What's seven plus six?" Thomas blinked. He looked at Maxine helplessly. Maxine laughed. "You don't know?" "I know!" "Then answer." Thomas looked genuinely troubled. "Twelve?" "It's thirteen!" Noah shouted. Thomas placed his hand dramatically over his chest. "I've been defeated." Noah laughed loudly. Maxine watched the two of them. Her smile slowly softened. Thomas looked... natural with Noah.

he ask skeptically "Because I miss something. That I made a mistake. You will fire me then the floor will open up underneath me because you fire me and the tunnel will lead me straight to the outside alley and then I'll go back again to the province but I don't want to go back there. Maybe I'll just become a hobo here. Oh I did not see Mr. Thomas the one beggar who is staying at grand central. Do you know him?" He looks confused and bewildered at the same time. "No you will no get fired. I assure you my office floor is stable. You will not go back to the province where you came from and I will not let you and who the heck is Mr. Thomas?" "Mr. Thomas is my resident hobo friend. I give him $10

Thomas was a very exhausting human. "I know what it is. It's that Catcher bastard. Oh, I can smell his dirty paws all over this. He probably paid them to say all these hateful things about me," He looked up at me and met my eyes since he began his rant, "They called me unintellectual. THEY FUCKING CALLED ME DUMB! CAN YOU FUCKING BELIEVE THAT?!" Good old Brian Catcher. That man for sure had my vote. But as for Thomas' question, I shook my head saying no but the truth was that I could actually believe it. Anyone who spent fifteen minutes with Thomas would most surely be able to believe it.

“It’s all I’ve got.” Thomas cursed under his breath, but didn’t push it. The train ride was hell. Metal groaning on rails, neon lights flickering like dying stars. A drunk snored two seats down, his bottle rolling with every sway. Across from us, a kid tapped at his phone, earbuds in, oblivious. Thomas sat stiff, sweat beading at his temple. His ribs were still a mess — each jolt of the car made him wince. I reached into my bag, pulled out a small bottle of water, and shoved it at him.

Thomas couldn't count how many times he laughed, really, too many to count. He was so satisfied, to the point where his stomach started hurting. Surprisingly, he didn't feel the usual traffic jam on the Sudirman-Thamrin road tonight. Was it because of Olive's story that kept making him burst into laughter? "Want to repeat that?" Thomas asked.

but something like a "champion of justice." To prevent a riot, Thomas didn't appear at the conference. Instead, he and Liam sat in a corner of a coffee shop near the venue, watching the tide turn on a laptop. Liam scrolled through the feed—"justice bringer" repeated across comments—and looked out at the sky as if the world might have rearranged itself. If the Ferrero family saw this, their jaws would drop. After so long of calling Thomas a monster, the net had rebranded him a hero. The internet is peculiar that way.