Okay, folks. I know some of you have been following my other Cars fic "I'll Meet You On Route 62." Don't worry, I haven't abandoned it. I just happen to be working on a few short Cars fics, mainly one-shots, and decided to post one of them today. Well, the first part of it, anyway. And yes, I am fully aware that lead is not really harmful to cars. It was all I could come up with for this fic, though, so just roll with it.

Summary: When the military issues a safety recall on all its Jeeps, Sarge couldn't care less… but Fillmore does. My response to the safety recall of the Sarge diecast toys. One-shot. Rated for mild language and implied drug use.

SARGE'S SAFETY RECALL

"Due to recent health and environmental concerns, the United States Army has announced a voluntary recall of all Willys Jeeps enlisted during or prior to the year 1954. Military issued paints employed during this timeframe have been tested and found to contain lead levels in excess of federal standards.

The United States Army strongly urges all Jeeps to whom this letter applies to contact the nearest military base immediately for instructions on, or assistance with, the safe removal of these lead-based paints. To locate the military base nearest you, please contact the number below.

Prompt and safe removal of lead-based paint is imperative as excessive levels of lead are known to cause numerous health risks, including, but not limited to..."

Sarge's bumper curled in a sneer as he refolded the letter. He saw no point in reading any further. A far cry from the call to service he'd expected when he saw the Army insignia on the envelope, the recall notice hardly seemed worth the paper it was printed on. Nor was it worth the time or effort that would be required to remove his paint, Sarge was certain.

The mail truck was just leaving when Fillmore came out to get his mail. He blinked sleepily in the bright summer sunlight and paused to admire a cluster of golden poppies and dandelions growing beside the fence that separated Sarge's yard from his.

"Hey man," he mumbled, parking beside the Jeep. Sarge grunted in reply but did not look at him. He continued to rummage through his mail as though the hippie weren't there.

Fillmore opened his mailbox. "Eww, junk mail," he grimaced. "Well, better than nothing, I suppose. Least they acknowledge my existence." He pulled the papers out and turned to Sarge. "So what'd you get? The usual nothing?"

Sarge flashed him a quick glance, but said nothing as he hurriedly stuffed the letter back in its envelope.

"What's that?" Fillmore asked, eyeing it curiously.

"Nothing a hippie would be interested in," came the Jeep's curt reply.

"How would you know?" asked the bus. "Last I heard, you weren't a hippie."

"And hell will freeze over before I ever become one!" Sarge retorted. He held up the envelope so that the Army's logo clearly showed. "Does this look even remotely appealing to you?" he demanded, waving the letter in the bus's face.

Fillmore's eyes widened slightly and he backed away. "Not particularly, no." Sarge smirked. "I didn't think so," he murmured, then turned away to sort through the rest of his mail again. "I suppose if this had landed in your mailbox by mistake you'd be halfway to Canada by now."

Fillmore chuckled. "Nah, man. Too far. It's way easier to just stay home and pretend I don't exist."

Sarge snorted. "Of course. What was I thinking? You're too damn lazy even to dodge the draft!"

Fillmore stared at the envelope uneasily. "Is that what you got - a draft letter?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Sarge snapped. "I didn't sit around waiting to get drafted to serve my country! I enlisted the moment I turned eighteen, just like any decent, upstanding American citizen would! If my country needs me, they'll send me a call to service letter, which would just be a waste of paper because I'd be out there serving before they even mailed it out!"

"Then how come you're still here, man?" Fillmore inquired. "Shouldn't you be off - I dunno - destroying someone else's country in the name of protecting this one right now?"

Sarge pierced him with such an icy glare just then that one might have thought the bus was burning Old Glory right on the veteran's own lawn. "In case you haven't been paying attention," he growled, "Vietnam ended thirty years ago. If there was a war going on right now, I certainly wouldn't be wasting my time here arguing with a hippie!"

"I wouldn't be wasting my time either," said Fillmore, sounding slightly offended. "There's always plenty of fighting going on at home that needs to be resolved first, ya know."

"Oh yeah? When have you ever had to battle anything other than the munchies?"

Fillmore chuckled. "What, you've never been to a peace rally?"

Sarge's snort was answer enough.

"Yeah well, they're not always as peaceful as you think," the bus replied. "Believe you me. How d'you think I lost this?" he asked, dipping his right side to indicate where his rearview mirror had been broken off. Sarge said nothing, only raised a skeptical brow. "The Man came and tried to drag me away by the mirror. Snapped it right off. Wouldn't give it back to me either." He stared levelly at the old Jeep as though willing him to understand.

Sarge was barely able to keep the disgust from his voice as he replied. "Oh, what a tragedy! And to think, you didn't even get a Purple Heart! Well, would you like one of mine? I've got two!" He was practically yelling by the time he had finished, and he had raised himself up on his axles, his face mere inches from his neighbor's.

Fillmore blinked, then started to slowly back away. "I'm sensing some major hostility here," he mumbled.

Sarge snorted and turned away, dropping all of his junk mail, recall notice included, into the garbage can at the end of his driveway before returning to his hut.

Part one done! Please stay tuned for more! And please, please, please review!