There’s something beautifully stubborn about putting a children’s TV character where it absolutely doesn’t belong. And doing it twice – despite the lawyers circling – well, that takes a special kind of defiance.

A modder known as Trainwiz has become something of a folk hero in gaming circles, and not just because they’re responsible for one of the most absurd Skyrim mods ever created. Back in the day, they replaced Skyrim’s dragons with Thomas the Tank Engine, complete with that unsettling smile and the show’s cheerful theme music. Picture fighting for your life while a giant blue train with a face bears down on you, tooting merrily. It was glorious, ridiculous, and spread across the internet like wildfire.

But here’s the thing – corporate lawyers didn’t find it quite as funny. Mattel, the company that owns Thomas and Friends, apparently wasn’t thrilled about their beloved children’s brand being associated with medieval violence and arrow-to-the-knee jokes. The mod got pulled. Most people would’ve called it a day, maybe grumbled a bit online, and moved on.

The Art of Not Giving a Damn

Trainwiz is not most people.

Instead of backing down, they’ve now done the exact same thing in Morrowind – the 2002 Elder Scrolls game that still has a weirdly devoted fanbase. And they’ve been pretty vocal about why. In comments that have been making rounds on Reddit and gaming forums, Trainwiz said something that’s either deeply principled or completely unhinged, depending on your perspective: “I fundamentally do not view toy company CEOs or media CEOs as people.”

Now, that’s a spicy take. And you know what? It’s resonating with a lot of folks who are tired of corporations wielding copyright law like a blunt instrument.

Why This Matters (Beyond the Memes)

On the surface, this is just about a silly mod. Thomas the Tank Engine doesn’t belong in a fantasy RPG, and that’s precisely what makes it funny. But dig a little deeper and you’re looking at something that’s been brewing in gaming culture for years – the tension between fan creativity and corporate control.

Mods have been the lifeblood of PC gaming since, well, basically forever. They extend games’ lifespans, build communities, and sometimes even lead to entirely new games. Counter-Strike started as a Half-Life mod. DayZ began its life as an Arma II mod. The whole concept of battle royale games can be traced back to modding communities.

But here’s where it gets messy. When you’re modding in someone else’s intellectual property – especially a kids’ brand – you’re technically in legal gray area. Fair use? Parody? Transformative work? These concepts get argued in courtrooms, and the average modder can’t exactly afford that fight.

The Corporate Crackdown

Companies have gotten increasingly aggressive about protecting their IP. Can’t really blame them entirely – their brands are worth billions, and they need to maintain that family-friendly image. Having Thomas associated with decapitations and soul gems probably isn’t great for merchandising.

But (and this is a big but) the gaming community has a point when they push back. These mods aren’t being sold. Nobody’s making money off Thomas’s terrifying face swooping down from the sky. It’s fan expression, basically. Creative play.

• The Legal Reality: Copyright holders have the right to protect their IP, even if nobody’s profiting from the infringement.
• The Cultural Reality: Fan works, parodies, and mods have become fundamental to how people engage with media in 2024.
• The Practical Reality: Good luck putting this particular genie back in the bottle – the internet doesn’t forget, and mods live forever on someone’s hard drive.

Morrowind: Round Two

So Trainwiz goes and does it again. In Morrowind, which is even more beloved by its community than Skyrim in some ways. Morrowind players are… let’s say passionate. They’re still modding a 22-year-old game, keeping it alive with better graphics, new quests, and apparently, anthropomorphic trains.

The new mod works similarly to the Skyrim version – it replaces creatures (this time cliff racers, which Morrowind players already hate with a burning passion) with Thomas. If you’ve never played Morrowind, cliff racers are these flying creatures that attack you constantly, making that distinctive screech. They’re annoying. Making them into Thomas? That’s either genius or psychological warfare.

What Trainwiz Is Really Saying

That quote about not viewing CEOs as people – it sounds extreme, right? But strip away the hyperbole and there’s something genuine underneath. It’s frustration with how copyright law has evolved to primarily serve corporate interests rather than, you know, promoting creativity and culture (which was kind of the original point).

Copyright terms keep getting extended. Disney made a fortune adapting public domain fairy tales, then spent decades lobbying to make sure Mickey Mouse never enters public domain. Companies issue takedown notices for fan art, fan fiction, and mods that often serve as free advertising for their properties.

Trainwiz is basically saying: I’m going to create what I want, and your legal threats don’t scare me because I don’t recognize your moral authority here. It’s civil disobedience, but for video game mods.

The Bigger Picture (Unfortunately)

This isn’t just about one modder being stubborn – though props for that, honestly. It’s part of a larger conversation about who controls creative culture. We’re living in an era where a handful of massive corporations own most of the characters, stories, and worlds that populate our collective imagination.

Disney owns Star Wars, Marvel, and basically half your childhood. Warner Bros. has DC and Harry Potter. These aren’t just stories anymore – they’re intellectual property portfolios managed by legal teams.

Where Does Creativity Fit?

Fan creators exist in this weird space where they’re encouraged (free marketing!) but also legally vulnerable (don’t damage the brand!). Companies want the engagement and community energy that comes from fan works, but they also want total control over how their properties are used.

You can see why someone would eventually say “screw it” and do whatever they want anyway. What’s Mattel going to do – sue a modder who’s not making money and has probably already distributed the files across a dozen mirror sites? They could try, but it’d be expensive, time-consuming, and generate terrible PR.

“I fundamentally do not view toy company CEOs or media CEOs as people” – Trainwiz

That statement might seem harsh, but it reflects a growing sentiment: these aren’t people fighting for their livelihoods. These are executives at massive corporations using legal systems to control creative expression. There’s a difference.

What Happens Next?

Honestly? Probably nothing. The mod will stay up on some sites, get taken down from others, and live forever in the murky corners of the internet where mods go to retire. Trainwiz won’t face serious consequences because going after individual modders is more trouble than it’s worth for most companies.

But the gesture matters. Every time someone pushes back against corporate overreach – even in small, silly ways like putting a children’s train in a dark fantasy RPG – it reinforces the idea that creative culture doesn’t belong solely to whoever has the best lawyers.

Will this change copyright law? Of course not. Will it inspire other modders to be a bit braver, a bit more willing to ignore the legal threats? Maybe. And that might actually matter in the long run. Culture advances through people who refuse to ask permission, who create first and worry about the consequences later (or not at all).

So here’s to Trainwiz and their improbable crusade to put Thomas the Tank Engine where he absolutely does not belong. It’s silly, it’s probably technically illegal, and it’s genuinely important in its own weird way. Sometimes the best way to fight corporate control is just to… not care what they think. Make the mod. Release it. Let them try to stop you.

Because at the end of the day, that’s the thing about the internet and modding communities – they’re fundamentally ungovernable. And maybe that’s how it should be.