Ok…so how many Speed Racer movie fans (who hadn't watched the show) know Sparky's real name

Ok…so how many Speed Racer movie fans (who hadn't watched the show) know Sparky's real name?

How many people who did watch the show know Sparky's real name?

Come on, no parent in their right mind would actually name their kid "Sparky."

Drum roll please. Sparky's real name is Wilson Sparkolomew. Get where the nickname comes from? I'll admit it, I only watched a few of the old cartoons, back when Cartoon Network was rerunning them. I always knew Sparky was a nickname, but never knew about Wilson.

Come on, you know there's an interesting story in there. Wilson Sparkolomew is actually a pretty cool name as names go…why the need for a nickname?

And what if good old Sparky ever met someone that he wanted to know him by his real name?

I struggled with myself on which to write, but then (after grudgingly studying the French Revolution) I decided I could have my cake and eat it too.

I'm going to tell both. Yes, that's right, both.

those of you who read my other stories with gusto, I promise I'll get back to them relatively soon. I can only type at work…my home computer is beyond busted. And those darn plot bunnies won't leave me alone. They've taken up residence under my bed actually. It's driving me crazy.

those of you who are kind enough to or to enjoy this story…let me know. I have another story somewhere in the back of my mind that's begging to be written. With Sparks, of course. He needs more love.

One more pesky author note: those of you who read my MTR stuff…and who like random interruptions by characters…that might happen in future Speed Racer author notes. I can't control these people (or chimps) once they're in my head.

Ok, ok. Enough of me. All that's left is my favorite part of my author notes, the random fun fact. (I think when you take time out of homework or studying to read fanfiction…as I do quite a lot) you should learn something.

Random Fun Fact: The pop tab on your 12-oz soda can is actually made of more aluminum than the entire can.

On with the story!!

The phone had been ringing off the hook all day, just as it had been all week. All month, in fact. Racer Motors had more orders than it could handle.

Inspector Detector had done all he could to influence the media, and it had worked. The papers had actually printed Speed's decision to remain with Racer Motors, never to sign with any other conglomerate. Not only did other honest racers want to get their parts from Pops, but regular families went to the family as well.

Sparky and Pops were kept busy all day filling orders, occasionally taking the help offered by Trixie or Speed. Even though there was so much work, Pops was still adamant about one thing. "The quality of Racer Motors will never, and I mean never, drop. As long as I have anything to say about it, no one ordering from us will go out on that track with a shoddy car."

"Whatever you say, Pops," said Speed as he kissed his mother and went off to bed. Sparky just nodded blearily and fell onto the couch exhausted. Pops cringed; Sparky was covered in grease and the couch would probably be ruined. Mom just put her hand on his shoulder. "Let him sleep, honey. He's had a long day."

"Long month, more like."

"It's been five months since the Grand Prix, and the orders haven't stopped. Not that I think that's a bad thing," she added after seeing the look on her husband's face. "I'm just saying it's been a lot of work for everyone. Especially you and Sparky." Mom and Pops looked at Sparky, sprawled across the couch, fast asleep after lying down for only a minute. Mom paused then spoke. "Honey, do you think you should get another mechanic?"

Pops blustered. "Absolutely not! Sparky's the best, and besides, he's family. I'll never hire someone else."

"Honey, I didn't mean it like that. I only meant hiring someone else who could work with you and with Sparky. You know, another pair of hands in the shop. Someone else who could make your days easier, and your nights longer," she said with a meaningful look at their worn out mechanic.

Pops shrugged. "It's not a bad idea," he conceded. Mom smiled. "All I'm asking you to do is think about it honey. For your sake. And for his."

"He's who I'm worried about. I don't want him to think that we think he's not capable."

"Honey, it's just too much work for two people. If it helps, you could ask him to help interview new candidates with you, and give him veto power."

"You always know what to do about everything. How do you do that?"

"It's a mom thing."

Spritle came stumbling out of his room around ten the next morning when he smelled pancakes. He grinned when he saw Sparky still asleep on the couch. "Mom, can I have Sparky's pancakes?"

"You certainly can not. Speed, go wake up Sparky before Spritle tries to steal his pancakes right off his plate."

"He's not in his room, Mom. I thought he was already up."

"He's on the couch, if I'm not mistaken." He was. But before Speed could get to him, the living room phone, which happened to be on the table not two feet from Sparky's head, began to ring. Sparky groaned. He rolled over and put a pillow over his head. "Five more minutes," he mumbled.

"Why? It's already ten o'clock, Sparkles," laughed Speed. "What?!" Sparky jumped up and ran into the kitchen apologizing. "Pops, I am so sorry I overslept, I'll get right into the shop right away, I promise, and I'm not gonna oversleep again, I swear, I—"

Pops laughed and put up a hand. "I hope I'm not that mean of a boss."

"Sparky stopped mid-apology. "What?"

"It's Saturday, Sparky. Everyone's entitled to sleep in once in a while. And judging from the way you fell on that couch last night, you needed the sleep." Sparky blushed. "Thanks."

Right on cue, Trixie walked in the front door, just as the finished pancakes were being set on the table. "Morning, everyone. Speed up yet?"

"Right here, baby." Speed pulled her in close and dipped her in an early-morning version of their Hollywood after-Grand-Prix kiss. Spritle made gagging motions, but Sparky just rolled his eyes. Some things never changed.

It wasn't until halfway through breakfast that Pops broached the topic of another mechanic. "Sparky, I want to talk to you about something. Now don't get all worried over nothing. Mom and I think you're the best mechanic anywhere." Sparky opened his mouth to speak, but Pops cut him off. "And it's not because you slept in this morning." Sparky sighed. "Then what?"

"You know better than anyone how much work has been pouring in since the Prix." Sparky nodded. "It's too much work for two people, even though we are the two best people in the business. What do you think about hiring another mechanic, someone who would work with both of us, just to lighten the load?"

Sparky sat, torn between relief and doubt. He would welcome another pair of hands, as long as they were reliable and talented, but what would another person do to the perfected chemistry of the shop?

"Well, I think it's a great idea," said Speed. Trixie nodded. "Me too. In fact, I could even give you a coupe names, Pops."

"Whoa, Trix," said Sparky. "I appreciate it, but they'd better know what they're doing. Pops, I don't mind someone else here, I just don't want to have to teach anyone anything."

Spritle snorted. "You, teach?"

"Spritle, stop." said Pops. "Sparky, would you feel better if you helped me interview people? And if you aren't impressed with someone, they're not going to get the job. You'll get the final word."

"Me?"

"Sparky, you're the best mechanic there is, I know it. I trust you."

"Wow, Pops, I… thanks."

It was decided. Starting Monday, Pops and Sparky would begin trying to find another mechanic. Spritle snorted again. "Lots of luck."

"And what's that supposed to mean, young man?"

"Nuthin', Mom. Just that Sparky's the best. That's all."

"You know, Sparky, I hate to say it, but I think Spritle may be right. It's been a week, and we haven't found anyone even remotely good enough for Racer Motors!"

While this was true, Sparky had really warmed up to the suggestion of help around the shop, and he was not ready to give up on the idea. "Come on, Pops. We'll find someone. Thank goodness it's Saturday, though, right? No work to do." Sparky stretched his tired and sore arms.

Pops got up to close the outer garage door to the shop to remove the temptation of doing any more work on a Saturday, but Sparky stopped him. "Hold up a minute." He pointed down the street at an approaching car. "Do you see that?" Pops nodded, and they both stared as the car drove up the street and stopped right in front of the garage.

To their surprise, a very attractive young woman got out and asked, "Is this Racer Motors?"

Sparky's mouth hung open, staring at the car. Pops smiled, and answered in his business voice. "Yes, ma'am, it is Racer Motors. What can we do for you?"

"Well—"

"Nice car." Sparky had found his vocal cords. The young woman smiled. "Thanks.1973 Plymouth Superbird."

"I thought this model looked a bit old," said Pops.

"This thing's nearly forty years old?" asked Sparky. "It looks brand new!"

"Thanks. Fixed it up myself."

Sparky exchanged a look with Pops. But before he decided to completely believe her, he had a question. "If you fixed it up so well yourself, why're you coming to us?"

She smiled. She'd had plenty of experience with boys who doubted her skill with cars. "Broken axle under the rear wheels. I'd fix it myself, but I don't have my tools."

Sparky frowned. "No self-respecting mechanic ever goes anywhere without his tools." He paused. "Or her tools."

"Fair enough. My father took them. Yes, all of them. He thinks I'm wasting my life fixing cars. I live more than a thousand miles away from here. We had a huge fight, and after I told him that this was all I wanted to do, he kicked me out. I just did what made sense. I jumped in my car and drove until something broke. Actually, I'm kind of glad the axle broke here. Word on the street and in the papers is that you guys are the best."

Sparky blushed, but before he or Pops could offer to help fix her problem, Speed crashed in through the house door. "Pops, what on earth are you two doing in here that's more important that Mom's pancakes? Oh…" Speed trailed off as he saw the car. "Whoa! Who drives that work of art?"

"I do."

Speed smiled his trademark grin, shook her hand, and said, "And who do I have the pleasure of meeting this morning?" She smiled. "Must have left my manners at home. My name is Emma De Lacey. Nice to meet you."

"You too. I'm Speed. Speed Racer." Emma's jaw dropped. "No way! The real Speed Racer? Youngest winner of the Grand Prix in history? You do know you're the first honest winner in about forever, right?" Speed nodded. "Speed Racer, Racer Motors…I can't believe I didn't connect the two."

"It's ok. You said you're not from around here?"

"Yeah. Just decided that I needed a different life." Sparky almost corrected her and told Speed the real story, but he stopped himself in time. She had valid reasons for not wanting Speed to know she'd been kicked out of her own house. "Hey Speed," he said, "do you think maybe Pops and I could help her fix her car now?"

"Hold on just a minute there. Are you Speed's mechanic too?" Sparky grinned sheepishly. "Yeah. Why?"

"Can I get your autograph?"

"Don't you want to direct that question to Speed?"

"Not really. I mean, Speed, you rock, but you…wow. You actually work on the Mach 6. That car is quite possibly the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I mean, you actually…wow. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I don't even know your name. It's never been in any of the papers, not even the Racing Chronicle. If you're going to help me fix my car, I've got to know your name."

He stuck out his hand for her to shake. "Wilson Sparkolomew."

Speed doubled up in laughter. Sparky closed his eyes and winced. Almost in tears from laughing so hard, Speed said, "Jeez, Sparky, if you're gonna make up a name, at least make up a good one!" Sparky looked down and went red. Emma put her hand on his shoulder, making him look up at her. But before she could ask him anything, Pops stepped in.

"Speed, that is his real name."

Speed was so shocked he stumbled back a few steps, and as a result, he promptly tripped over a box of engine parts and landed rear end first in the trash bin. Pops grinned. "Serves you right."

Speed just looked at Sparky. "For serious? Wilson Spark-…sorry. Wilson Sparkolomew is really your real name?" Sparky sighed. He'd forgotten how much people laughed. "Yes, Speed, that is my real name."

"Why didn't you tell me?" asked Speed. Sparky pointed at the trash can. "Oh," said Speed. "Right. So where'd the nickname come from?"

But before Sparky could launch into an explanation, Mom called everyone in for pancakes. Emma thought this was as good a time as any to politely duck out. Pops wouldn't hear of it. "Come in and have breakfast with us. There's plenty of pancakes for all of us." Emma protested, but they assured her it was certainly no trouble at all.

Speed lifted himself from the mercifully empty trash bin and said, "Come on, Sparky, last one in has to sit next to Chim Chim!"

Sparky winced at that thought, then turned to Emma. At the look on her face, he said, "Don't worry. The whole family's called me Sparky for…well, practically forever. Pops and Mrs. Racer are the only ones who knew my real name."

Emma looked a little bit relieved. She had felt badly for him when Speed was teasing him. But she saw his good nature, and knew that it was teasing between friends. "Are you sure it's all right for me to eat with you all?"

"Don't worry, the Racers are great. Everyone's gonna love you." Sparky grinned. "Besides, it's worth almost anything to get some of Mrs. Racer's pancakes."

It was Emma's turn to grin. "I think you just said the magic words. Pancakes are my favorite. Being on the road for…well, I haven't had any good ones in a while." Sparky hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder.

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do to comfort her, or if she was even asking for comfort at all. He'd never been great with girls. Speed's introduction with Emma was enough to remind him of that. Even though Speed had a steady girlfriend, he could still turn on the charm whenever he wanted.

Apparently, the hand on the shoulder was the right thing, as she looked up and smiled. As he held the door open for her, she said, "Okay, you've got to tell me how Wilson Sparkolomew became 'Sparky.' By the way, why did you use your real name with me?" Sparky paused. "I guess I wanted to be taken seriously for a minute." He laughed. "Guess I have the wrong name for that."

"What do you want me to call you?"

"Sparky's fine. The whole family calls me that, they always have. And as for the story, d'you mind if I wait about five minutes to tell it? I have a feeling the rest of the family's going to want to hear it too, and it's not really one I feel like telling twice."

"All right. Hey, Sparky, one more question."

"Ask away."

"Who's Chim Chim?"

Sparky stopped in his tracks. "He's…well, he's…hmm. I hate to disappoint you, but I think you'll just have to wait and see. Chim Chim…well, he defies explanation. So does Spritle, but that's for an entirely different reason."

"Spritle?"

"Speed's little brother."

"Okay, no one in this family has a right to make fun of your name."

Sparky laughed. "Thanks. I'll remember that." He looked at his watch. "We'd better hurry up if we want any pancakes at all, let alone hot ones." He gestured inside with his free hand. "After you." They both went in the house and into the kitchen, where Mom Racer had kept their pancakes away from prying forks and kept them hot.

Mom turned around and said, "Well, goodness Sparky, you didn't tell us you were having company. Who is this beautiful young lady?"

"Yeah Sparkles," said Trixie, who had as usual come to the Racer house for breakfast. "She's cute. Really cute. Where'd you find her?"

Sparky went bright red for the second time that morning. He tried to stammer out an answer, but he was getting nowhere fast. Emma jumped in. "I was out for a drive and my car sort of broke down. I was lucky enough to be in front of Racer Motors, and Sparky and Mr. Racer were nice enough to offer to fix my car. We only met about ten minutes ago."

Mom smiled. "Well, that's no reason not to have breakfast with us. Come here, dear, and you can sit between Speed and Sparky. Now, what should we call you?"

"Emma. My name's Emma De Lacey. And thank you so much for inviting me in for breakfast Mrs. Racer. It's…this is really nice."

"Oh, honey, please, call me Mom, everyone does. Now, everybody, eat those pancakes. And there are plenty more if anyone wants them." Before Emma had a chance to thank Mrs. Racer for all of her kindnesses, Spritle piped up with his usual antics. " 'Sparkles?' I'm totally gonna start calling you that!"

Sparky pushed Spritle's hand away from the syrup as he said, "You call me that once and you won't reach your next birthday." The whole family laughed.

Once everyone was settled, Emma spoke up. "Hey Sparky, are you ever going to tell that story? How did you get your nickname?"

"What nickname?" asked Spritle.

"Oh boy," said Sparky. "Here we go. All right, all right. But only because Emma asked. It all started when I was five…"

YAY!! 1st chapter done. Sure took me long enough to write. And got one part of me self-challenge done. Sparks has met someone that he wants (at least at first) to know his real name.

Now for the story behind it………see chapter 2.

Please review. It would make my world so much brighter. Reviews are greatly appreciated. I don't know any other ways to ask you wonderfully nice people to review…no flames please. There are nice ways to say that this was not your particular cup of tea. (unlike the critics that said the SR movie was like pouring molten starbursts into your corneas…grrr…..)

You get a really big cookie if you can send me a review and tell me that you recognize Emma's car… (it is in one of my other stories, but that's not where you're supposed to recognize it from…this car is famous!) You'll get more hints in later chapters, but if you can guess now, you're really good!

If you got this far without navigating to another page, thanks for putting up with me and my plot bunnies! You rock.

Peace out, girl scouts!

beanie