First and foremost, as you can see the day I posted this, MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Hello Cars fans...this is a story I came up with while watching one of my favorite shows, as seen in the title. This could be called a cross-over, but there is no Overhaulin' category to pick from, so here it will stay.

I love the Cars movies, and I am a big fan of Chip Foose and his design work. So when I saw him restore a 67' Mustang, just after watching Cars with my niece for the fiftieth time, this is what I came up with. I hope you enjoy it.

The first chapter is a warm up to our 'MARK', a 67' Mustang named Winston, as he heads for his date with destiny. A bright red pony car that knows he is fast, but is timid to use it. He has found himself in an unbelievable position to become the face of a new Racing team, and is making his way to the west coast on the unfinished I-40.

Please review at the end...good or bad, I want to hear it!


Chapter One: Detour Ahead

Only the light of a nearly full moon, and the billions of stars accompanying it in the night sky, was shinning on the newest section of Interstate 40. However, the noise coming from this pristine stretch of Freeway, rumbled for miles. The distinct sound of a throaty V8 engine, filled the area with a wonderful tune, as Winston opens his throttle once again.

"Woo hoo! I love that sound!" The young pony car remarks to himself, enjoying the music of his new 351 Cleveland echoing across the asphalt.

At four in the morning, and deep in the desert, the red mustang decided to find out what his future life may be like, and is now racing down the road without his lights. The rush of adrenaline coursing through his fuel-line gives Winston a strange unstable feeling, but after a half an hour of driving, and not seeing another car on the new road, Winston's eyes have finally adjusted to the limited light, and so has his confidence.

It was the fear of driving without headlights, and a handicap he must get used to if he is to be accepted into the world of Piston Cup racing. However, seeing his future now clearer in the dark, the young mustang is finally starting to push himself. At one hundred and fifteen miles an hour, Winston has achieved his fastest speed ever, but knows he has one more gear, a gear he has never touched before in his early life.

"This is it Winston, don't be afraid of the power under your hood!" He says to himself, taking another glance down the long straight road, and seeing only the mountains on the horizon.

"Dinaco wants the best, and I am going to prove that I'm the King..." He continues, knowing his future awaits in California, and an interview with a new Piston Cup racing team. However, another car is also on his way, and this car has been a thorn in the young Muscle car's side. A powerful feeling of rage is soon felt, deep under Winston's hood, and the flashing image of a blue Plymouth Superbird's tail lights, that always edged him out in the final laps at home.

"...AND THIS TIME, IT'S NOT GONNA BE STRIP WEATHERS!"

Suddenly the sound in the desert increases ten fold, as Winston switches gears, funneling his rage with flames from his exhaust. The ground shakes as the red mustang shoots past one forty, and the intensity of the wind forces him to squint a little more, however, Winston presses his accelerator harder.

One sixty, and he can feel his tires begin to lose grip. The stress on his eyes becomes painful, but yet he presses harder.

One Seventy, and the shaking in his front end begins to startle him, but yet Winston tightens himself up, thinking only of showing his courage, and he presses harder.

"ONE EIGHTY!" He barks out with excitement, quickly releasing the throttle as this record number is achieved in a blaze of pure power.

"You are soooo going down Strip, I promise!" The young mustang barks to himself, as he returns to a normal cruising speed of seventy-five, and turns his headlights back on.

"However, I might be going down too." The young pony car remarks, realizing his fuel tank has also taken a beating with this almost fifty mile demonstration of his power and skills.

"I better watch how I use that speed, or tail lights are all I'll see in this race." He continues to himself, realizing that this kind of power has a heavy price. Winston lowers his speed again, conserving what he has, knowing Las Vegas is still a hundred miles away, and is the only place on the new highway to get fuel. However, with his headlights on, the young mustang finally notices a slew of orange signs lining the highway

"DETOUR FIVE MILES!" He barks, seeing the cluster of orange reflective signs, and realizing he must have passed hundreds in the dark.

"No wonder the highway is empty, Stupid!"

The red car quickly cuts his engine, and pulls to the side of the road, conserving his fuel. Winston shuts off all his power allowing him to notice the bright lights of construction far off on the horizon.

"This is bad!" He remarks, turning around, and looking back down the dark road he just traveled, knowing full well that running out of gas would be embarrassing before his big interview with Tex Dinaco.

"I can't go back...I'll never make it with the little bit of fuel I got left." The sleek red Mustang figures aloud, then returns his eyes to the west.

"Maybe they might have some gas at the construction site, and could let me barrow a few gallons..." He says with a bit of skepticism, knowing how temperamental a construction vehicle can be, especially towards a sports car.

"...or maybe they'll just bury me in the sand and laugh."

Winston smiles at the sudden thought, knowing how his backhoe friend would always joke about burying him under a ton of sand, just so he could win a race. The red Mustang starts his engine, and laughs his way down the empty Interstate, thinking more of the one who helped talk him into trying out for the Piston Cup series.

"I just hope these guys are like you Sampson..." He remarks, recalling how his friend's generosity and compassion was the only thing he regretted leaving behind. A vision of the large yellow truck's front-end load bucket crosses Winston's mind, and how it was always curved upward, expressing the smile that never seemed to leave his face.

"...I will need to see a smiling face if I'm gonna make out of this desert."

Winston takes a calming deep breath and continues down the road, knowing regardless of how he is received by this construction crew, it is his best choice. It takes a few minutes at normal speed for Winston to arrive, and he quickly shuts down his engine as he draws up to the line of cones blocking the road.

"EXCUSE ME GUYS!" The red sports car calls out to the group of trucks, tearing at a large ridge to clear a straight path for the continuing freeway, and all five turn in unison.

"What do you want RED?" A small yellow pickup truck replies, startling Winston as he pulls alongside the red sports car.

"Are you dumb or something..." he continues, focusing his headlights to the orange sign that reads End of Road. "...there was a hundred signs, stretching back twenty miles, warning that the Interstate is not going to be finished for another week!"

"Yes I noticed, sir!" Winston replies quickly, trying to defuse the construction workers attitude, and he lowers his front end expressing a sense of helplessness. "I just thought there was another exit before this, and I guess I missed it."

The yellow truck just rolls his eyes, then turns on his brights, shining them upon the work plans to his right.

"Your turn-off was six miles back, HOT RODDER." He barks out, showing Winston the spot on his map he shot through at top speed.

"You'll need to take route 66 West, about ninety-five miles, and you'll hook up with the Interstate again, just outside of Vegas."

After crunching the impossible numbers in his head, Winston notices the fuel tank in the construction yard, and suddenly realizes how much trouble he is in.

"Oh my goodness!"

"What is it?"

"You guys all run on diesel!" Says the concerned Mustang, knowing he cannot use the different fuel, and absolutely sure there is no way to get that far with the little unleaded gas left in his small tank.

"I'll never make it to Vegas."

"You don't have to!" The yellow truck barks out, suddenly showing a wide grin across his bumper, then highlights a small town on his map. It is a spot all six have frequented while taking a break, and a place he know the red car will receive great care.

"That's Radiator Springs, and it's only fifteen or so miles from here. Just stop at Flo's V8 cafe, and she'll top off your tank with a smile and a story or two."

"Even at this time in the morning?"

The small pick-up smiles wider, and rolls up grille to grille with the red pony car.

"This is the time a day, that make Radiator Springs shine!" He remarks, then presses a button to turn off all the lights at the site.

Winston stares at the F150 for a moment with a look of surprise, but then notices a glow of multiple colors coming from behind him, in conjunction with the mark on the map.

"What is that?"

"Radiator Springs!"

A smile fills Winston's face, as this light shimmers with the pulsing colors of a rainbow.

"That is remarkable!" Winston replies with excitement, only believing the new city of Las Vegas shined in the desert like this.

"I can't wait to get there, if I can make that distance."

"If you can't make it, I'll just give Tow Mater a call!" Remarks a large excavator, slowly rolling up on the conversation, after hearing his favorite town mentioned. "He's a tow truck, and a good friend of mine. I know for a fact he would gladly come out here and bring you into town."

"TOW ME!?" The dazzling red car barks out with a bit of arrogance, then notices the anger returned by his outburst.

"Mater doesn't TOW anything!" The large earth crushing machine replies, lowering his boom closer and closer to Winston's pristine candy apple hood, making the new pony car back up with fear.

"He carries you with his heart, and you will see exactly what I mean, when he comes here to pick you up."

"I said I don't need to be towed." Winston returns with as strong a voice as he can muster, standing up to the much larger machine. However, The large excavator suddenly lunges forward, and Winston backs up further. He falls into an unfinished section of the road, and his rear tires strike an exposed grid of steel re-bar, buried under the still wet cement bed of the Interstate.

"You were saying!" The large machine laughs, seeing the small red pony car cringe at the numbing pain of two flat tires, and the helpless feeling of his back-end lowering to all the way to the ground.

"I think you'll need that tow now!"

"You must know my friend Sampson!" The red car remarks sarcastically, trying to pull himself from the muddy concrete, and having little success without his rear tires for traction. However, this is how Winston gained respect from his larger peer, and a single memory repeats in his head.

The day he showed what his power is all about to a bullying backhoe, and now best friend.

Winston's brown eyes lock upon the large excavator, and his buddies whom have gathered around to witness the large truck's abuse of a small red sportscar. With a grunt of power from his engine, Winston rips the rubber from his destroyed rear tires, showing none of the pain on his front grille. It takes several agonizing seconds, but the determined red car yanks himself from the thick wet cement, and pulls back onto the hard asphalt top coat on bare rims.

"However..." Winston remarks, his voice showing the stress of freeing himself. "...I will be fine to make it there without a tow!"

All five large machines balk, as does the small yellow foreman, as Winston begins to grind slowly away.

"HEY!" The large yellow earth eater barks out, watching the red Mustang gingerly continue leaving.

"WAIT A MINUTE! PLEASE!"

Winston stops, hearing this massive vehicle's voice break with concern, and the large excavator takes a deep breath seeing his reverse light come on.

"I only wanted to you to meet my friend Mater, and I guess I got a little carried away, so...I'm sorry." The large truck says with a more shaky voice, and his fellow workers begin to stare at him with shock. However, Winston hears and sees the same face he saw years ago in Sampson.

"Well it's only two tires, and a buff job. So, I'll be fine big fella, don't you worry." The pony car replies with a smile, and the large truck shows him a grateful grin.

"Listen my friend, let me call Mater." The large truck remarks with a new voice, one of joy in still hearing a tone of respect from a car he tried to make feel weak.

"I will get him to tow..." The large excavator balks for a second, looking down at Winston, and showing a wry smirk, before changing his statement

"...I mean, I will get you a RIDE into town, and take care of the damages I caused."

"Thank you...ahhh!" Winston falters with his gratitude, not knowing who he's thanking.

"I'm sorry, I didn't get your name my big friend."

"Paul Grinder..." The large truck remarks, seeing the expression of embarrassment on the red car's face. "...and you little fella!"

"Winston Stangley!" The pony car remarks, and quickly the foreman opens his eyes wide.

"Hey...I've heard of you!" The yellow Ford pickup remarks with excitement, suddenly looking at the red car with shock and awe.

"Your gonna be Dinaco's rookie of the year driver in the Piston Cup series this year, according to Ford Texas Racing Today. They also think you will break those records set by the old Hudson Hornet twenty years ago."

Winston blushes again, feeling modest about his work, knowing he still has one more important race to win, just to make the Dinaco team.

"I hope so." He replies with a bit of concern in his voice, and the large excavator suddenly feels horrible.

"Oh my goodness!" The massive truck remarks in a panic, looking down at the damage he caused to the red race car, and believing he is the reason for Winston's concerns.

"I will call Mater right now, and also make sure Luigi and Ramone are awake to fix..."

"Easy!" The red Mustang remarks, seeing the big excavator almost run over several of his friends, rushing to a phone set up for emergency calls.

"Don't fuss big fella, I still have four days to get there, and like I said before, I'm fine!"

The candy apple red muscle car rumbles his engine, sending out a wave of harmonious thunder in every direction, filling the hearts of the construction vehicles with the musical tone of his unblemished power.

"It's only two flat tires."


This is only a taste of my OC, and the next chapter will have all of your favorites. So stay tuned to see how Radiator Springs looked in the early seventies, just before the Interstate opened.

Again I wish all celebrating a merry Christmas, and a wonderful present would be a review of some kind words