In the bustling gym of the train yard, amidst the clang of weights and the distant whistle of engines, Greaseball stood casually by the snack bar, a confident smirk playing on his lips. Dressed in his sleek diesel engine attire, he exuded an air of self-assurance, his presence commanding attention even in the midst of the busy surroundings.

As the coaches and engines bustled past, some cast admiring glances his way, Greaseball leaned nonchalantly against the snack bar, one hand resting on his hip while the other idly stirred a cup of oil, his favorite drink.

His eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned the room, taking in the movements and interactions around him with a practiced ease. Despite his tough exterior, there was a hint of mischief in his gaze, a glint that suggested there was more to him than met the eye. Whatever his purpose, one thing was clear – Greaseball was in his element, and the gym was his domain.

“Heh.”