Disclaimer: All recognisable characters belong to Disney/Pixar. All OCs belong to me.
"Nope! I'm not gonna do it, Mater!" Lightning McQueen said through the door of his transporter.
"Come on, bud!" Mater pleaded. "They're darn near payin' ya three million bucks ta do dis!"
"Seriously though, Mater? I'm getting paid three million dollars to race against a crop-duster who just happened to be lucky enough to win one race? I don't want to humiliate him."
"You're scared of getting' beaten, aren't ya?"
"No…" Lightning said slowly.
"Ha! Yer are! Yer scared of getting' beaten by him! Come on! Show the world what ya can do!"
Lightning groaned. "The last time you said that, I was almost killed by a death ray!"
Mater's face fell. It was late in 2013, and it had been over two years since the disastrous World Grand Prix. Lightning had been hired along with Dusty Crophopper to star in the Racing Sport's Network advertisement for the up-and-coming 2014 Superbowl. It was still four months away though. Dusty had shot to fame only a month earlier by winning the Wings Around the Globe Rally, giving the RSN producers of the advertisement a brilliant idea. They wanted Lighting and Dusty to race each other!
Harv came over to Lightning's enormous transporter, and he banged his tyre loudly on the door. "You've got thirty seconds to get yourself out here, kid, or I'll tell Rusty and Dusty to stop paying you for a year!"
The threat worked, and Lightning reluctantly lowered the transporter's ramp. "I'm gonna sack you one of these days, Harv," he muttered under his breath as he rolled down the ramp. He revved his engine aggressively. That caught everyone's attention, including the producer's.
"Finally! Get over here now, McQueen! We've been waiting over half an hour for you, and we need to film this while we still have good light! Get those cameras onto him," he ordered a couple of crew members. "Now!"
Lightning fidgeted crossly while the camera technicians attached several tiny cameras to various places on his body. They had to be careful where they were placed so they didn't disrupt Lightning's aerodynamics. Lightning scowled when he saw Dusty Crophopper calmly sipping on a can of oil, and chatting to a green fuel truck and an old Corsair. Something about the Corsair's demeanour and the way in which he was speaking to Dusty instantly reminded Lightning of his friendship with Doc. He stopped fidgeting and sighed. He really missed Doc terribly. Aside from being his friend, Doc had married Lightning's mother, Elinor, only a few years before he'd died from an engine attack.
"Hey, bud!" Mater shouted in Lightning's face, making the race car jump with a yelp.
"Mater!"
"Sorry, bu' you was miles away. Been thinkin' about Doc was ya?"
Lightning shook himself. "You sure you're not a mind-reader?"
Before Mater could answer, the producer called everyone over. "Okay, listen up! We only have one chance at shooting this, so it had better be perfect! I don't care what the result is, so just go out as hard and as fast as you both can. Dusty? You know what you need to do, right?"
Dusty nodded and smiled. The producer turned towards Lightning.
"Lightning? Do you know what you need to do?"
"Yes. It's basically two one-mile drag races back-to-back. Easy."
"Just make sure you don't spin out when you make your turn."
Lightning scoffed. As if he couldn't turn around on a fifty metre wide runway! At least there weren't any cactus patches anywhere in sight at this airport.
"Okay, everyone! Let's do this!" the producer shouted, making everyone scramble into their respective positions.
Lightning and Dusty moved onto the runway. Staring down the straight, Lightning could just see the yellow line painted across the tarmac where he'd have to make his turn. He wouldn't be able to counter-steer here. There was too much grip and too small a margin for error. He'd just have to make his turn as late and as tight as possible.
Glancing to his left, he eyed Dusty curiously. The former crop-duster was almost twice his own height, and with the tip-tanks on his wings, he sure looked fast. For this race, he'd have to take off as quickly as possible, then fly vertically for one mile before turning around and flying straight back down. Nobody knew who'd win, which was the whole point of the commercial. But then Lightning remembered something. His secret weapon. He wasn't supposed to us it, but he would if he had to. He decided he'd use it today, and teach the silly crop-duster a lesson he'd never forget!
"Racer's ready?" the producer asked.
Lightning responded by revving his engine as loudly as he could. Dusty simply turned on his engine, but he didn't rev it. That made Lightning angry. Was the crop-duster really that cocky? Didn't he realise who he was racing against?
The starter's flag dropped, almost catching Lightning off-guard. His tyres squealed as they sought traction to push him off the start/finish line. Within seconds, he'd left Dusty far behind. Lightning grinned. Yeah. He had this race in the bag.
But then something incredible happened. Dusty overtook him as he lifted off the ground! Lightning watched him as he took off into the air, pointing his nose up almost vertically as he flew higher and higher.
Lightning quickly re-focused on the race. He pushed himself harder, and soon he was going at two-hundred miles per hour. The turning point was approaching – fast. Leaving it as late as he dared, Lightning applied his brakes. Then he swung himself hard to the left. He only just managed to stay on the tarmac.
Coming out of the turn, Lightning pushed himself back up to two hundred miles per hour. But he didn't stop there. His speed kept increasing as he bolted for the finish line. That was his secret weapon – his speed boost resulting from an allergic reaction he'd suffered many years earlier. He couldn't see Dusty anywhere, but he could hear him, somewhere above and behind him.
Lightning's engine was starting to hurt him now as he pushed it over two-hundred and twenty miles per hour. He was maxed out completely, and yet he could still hear Dusty drawing closer and closer to him. The finish line was rapidly approaching…
With a loud 'whoosh!' Dusty flew straight over Lightning and across the finish line to win.
"No!" Lightning exclaimed in disbelief. A second later, he also crossed the finish line. He braked hard, looking into the sky above him for the small orange aircraft.
"Cut!" the producer shouted, but Lightning barely heard him. He was trembling with rage. Before anyone could say anything, Lightning raced over to Harv, skidding to a stop in front of him. The pungent smell of burning rubber filled the air.
"I should NEVER have let you talk me into doing this!" he shouted furiously. "Now the whole world is going to see me get beaten by a crop-duster! Good luck trying to repair my public image after this, Harv!"
To Lightning's amazement, everyone was smiling. Even Harv. Then Lightning realised what was going on.
"You all knew that I was going to lose today, didn't you?"
"No…" Harv ventured cautiously. "But we knew the stats were against you."
Feeling deeply humiliated and exhausted, Lightning grabbed a can of high-performance oil and he hurried over to his transporter, closing the ramp behind him. He'd never felt more humiliated in his life!
A short time later, someone knocked on the door of Lightning's transporter. Reluctantly, Lightning lowered the ramp. He wasn't too surprised to find Dusty Crophopper standing there.
"Hey," Dusty said. "I'm sorry you lost."
Lightning scowled. "Just stop rubbing it in, okay? You've had your little victory, so just take your gloating to someone who cares."
Dusty looked hurt. "Did you get out of the wrong side of the garage this morning?"
"What makes you say that?"
"I thought you were a nice guy now."
Lightning started at Dusty, agape. He had no idea what to say, and he felt most ashamed of his earlier behaviour.
"I'm sorry," he finally managed, feeling completely deflated. "I was supposed to have a day off today. I had a race last night, and I didn't get much sleep last night, 'cause we had to travel here."
Dusty smiled sympathetically. "I understand. Again, I'm sorry I won. You're really fast. I just used gravity during the last mile. I was so slow climbing during the first mile that I was sure you'd beat me! In fact, I wasn't even sure if I'd finish. You see… I'm afraid of heights."
Lightning spluttered on the oil he'd been drinking. His eyes widened as he struggled not to laugh.
"Err… I see… Um… You know, I'm actually afraid of lightning storms…"
Dusty looked surprised. "Really?"
"Yeah. I usually end up hiding in my mum's bed…"
Dusty's lips twitched as he also struggled not to laugh, but it was no good. The two racers couldn't control themselves, and they finally exploded in a wild fit of laughter.
When Mater, Skipper and Chug found Lightning and Dusty, they were surprised to find the two of them laughing and talking as if they were long lost friends. Skipper smiled. He was glad they were now friends. But now he had the unpleasant task of breaking them up. How he wished the Hudson Hornet was still alive to help him!
Skipper turned to ask Chug and Mater for help, but to his surprise, he found the two of them blowing bubbles with their saliva behind him! Now he had two sets of friendships to break up. And it wasn't going to be easy…