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Introduction:
In 2003, Carlton Entertainment proposed a pitch trailer for a revival of Thunderbirds, named Thunderbirds IR. Unfortunately, due to rights negotiations and Carlton being sold to ITV, the nearly-finished production didn’t see the light.
The only evidence remaining is a pitch trailer showing how it would all look on screen. Sadly, the series was never greenlit…
Until now.
Chapter 1:
Storm
“HELP!”
The ear-piercing shrieks of the lonesome Fisherman Joseph McBrian echoed through the stormy hellhole surrounded by violent, choppy seas. The lighthouse he worked in had chipped red and white paint, peeling off as if it were a rotten banana, and the light didn’t seem to work either. Every 3 to 4 seconds, it flashed as if it were a seizure effect in a superhero cartoon.
Joseph was a bit too middle aged for cartoons, but he clung tightly to the metal railing of his lighthouse, screaming like a maniac for help. His fingers grew hot with panic with every attempt at gripping on for dear life. He gritted his yellowing, chipped teeth and prayed for dear life inside his head as he tried not to keep his bloodshot eyes on the disfiguring railing, swinging off its hinges like a crazy metal gate.
“Help me!” he cried, trying to climb back onto the lighthouse porch. He tried with all his might, but his backbone was fractured, and he couldn’t walk anymore. He looked down below at the rocky platform which he dared not make a landing on.
His wheelchair.
It was no more.
And it was said that no one was allowed a wheelchair in a lighthouse, for it would cause serious damage. A damage so serious, it could do one thing:
KILL.
KILL.
A word Joseph dared not think about as the metal bar swung violently off its hinges as a deafening crash of thunder made the helpless fisherman want to cover his ears but couldn't. His hands were red hot and dripping with sweat and rain from holding on tight.
His hands were now showing blue veins from holding on for what felt like 100 hours, and the metal bar was so wonky it couldn’t take his weight either, not with a fractured backbone or an aching, pounding head from all that tension.
The other half of the metal bar began to crack, slowly, bit by bit. His eyes now crusted, his head pounding like a stereo, his hands now red with sores and bruises, Joseph closed his eyes and whimpered…then, let go.
His life was over…
But not for long.
A light suddenly shone onto him. Was he in Heaven? Was he not? Then he looked up and saw what looked like a huge bird with jet plane like wings and fire spreading from its tail feathers. It looked familiar because it had the number 1 written on its - pardon the expression - tummy.
Then, as if he had gone deaf from struggling, he heard a cool, calm voice radio in to base:
“Scott Tracy to Virgil. Found Joseph - unleashing my rope net onto the lighthouse right now.”
“F.A.B. Be seeing you when he’s safe. I’ll be on hand with the task of getting this old git to safety.”
Old…git?
Joseph struggled for a laugh but kept on falling towards impending doom….but then, a net swiped in underneath and pinned itself to the chipped, peeling exterior of the lighthouse. Relievingly, Joseph fell to safety on its soft rungs.
The voice sounded again.
“Gotcha.”
That familiar voice…its name?
Scott Tracy.
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