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Not Everything Is What It's Cracked Up To Be

It was an average, normal day for a skinny seventeen year old girl named Elizabeth, but everyone called her Foxy, or Pajama Foxy because she was a Furry, or anthromorphic fox, and she loved wearing pajama bottoms. She was lying out under the large tree in her front yard, looking up at the clouds she could see around the leaves. She had been lying out there on one of her father's old blankets for nearly two hours, watching the clouds go by. Her father had passed away nearly five years ago, a few days after her birthday. She had been crushed for years, but then she had gone into high school and had met some friends who had pulled her out of her depressed state. They had been just as crazy as she was, and she loved every minute of it. She could barely remember what she was like before she had friends, and she liked it that way. She sat up, stretched, then stood up in the grass, looking around for the two children she occasionally babysat for down the street. She loved them to pieces, and they loved her right back, mainly because they had been friends ever since the older one had been two. There were no adorable, blonde-haired monsters hiding in wait to tackle her to the ground again, so she walked across her driveway to the attached garage. It was a two-car garage, a reasonably nice size with her mother's car closer to the house, and their other car on the farther side of the garage. She walked into the garage through the rolled-up garage door, then hit the button to open the other garage door. It groaned to life, having not been opened in a long time, and rolled upwards, letting sunlight in. Satisfied with her work, she walked out of the garage, going around to stand in the driveway again, facing the opened door which had been hiding something. She pulled back the cardboard box 'fence' that her father had put up years ago, and looked at what had been revealed.

Under numerous sheets, on planks of wood so the tires wouldn't touch the dirty floor, nose outwards, sat a pristine, sparkling 1982 Chevy Corvette in off-white, the same color as those sheets. Oh, how it drove her wild not having her license and being twenty-something so she could drive the long-nosed beast! Whenever the long nose moved out of the garage, she didn't know whether to laugh, cry, babble indiscernibly, or stand rooted to the spot, shaking with love. It was true, she loved the car, with its long, tantalizing front end, the curved fenders, the incredible door handles, all the way to its sideways colon-shaped taillights. She wanted the car to be hers, more then anything in the entire world, but her mother had told her no, and said that the car was hers until she decided on what to do with it. The girl had complained at first, but gradually let the matter rest. It was no use asking repeatedly for months on end, her mother had made up her mind. That morning, however, the girl had asked casually what her mother wanted to do with the car. "I was thinking I would sell it." Was the response. Foxy was horrified, and ran into the garage. Her mother was going to sell the car! Her father's pride and joy, gone from her life! It was a horrifying thought, since the car was really all she had left to remember him by, other then his workshop in the back of the garage. She didn't want the car to leave her, ever. She didn't know how long she stood there looking at the car, but when she looked up at the sky it was beginning to grow dark. She replaced the cardboard, then rolled the door down and went back out to get the blanket. She folded it back up, then put it back where she had found it. She looked up into the sky, and spotted a star flying through the night sky. Since there was no one else around, she spoke her wish aloud. "I wish that there was a place where my father's car could go so I could visit it, and it would never be sold." She felt a strange, tickling sensation, and opened her eyes to find that she was surrounded in a blue haze. "What's going on?" She asked to nobody in particular, looking around in a slightly panicked way.

Suddenly, the blue haze dissipated until she was dumped, rather rudely, into the dirt. Coughing, she stood up and attempted to look around, but abruptly felt dizzy and fainted, falling limply into the dirt once more. She awoke to bright lights, a steady beeping sound, and low voices. She blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the lights, and moved her arms and legs slightly, checking for broken bones. If that beeping sound meant anything, she was in the hospital, which meant that someone had found her. Maybe they knew what had happened to her. Finding none of her bones broken, she sat up slowly, and looked around. The walls were a stark white, and the floors were an aqua and white tile. Around the room were various tools that she recognized from her father's tool chest, and monitors that she guessed were from a hospital. "Where am I?" Foxy asked quietly, and absentmindedly felt around her neck for the collar she wore at all times. It was missing, and she began to panic because it had her house key attached to it. The machine began beeping louder and faster as her pulse quickened, and it didn't help to soothe her pounding headache. "Oh, be quiet." She said loudly, glaring at the monitor as though it were alive. If it was, it ignored her. She sighed, then began looking around for her collar. She finally spotted it, lying on the counter a few feet away. She realized that she was on some sort of car lift, and suspended up very high, high enough that she couldn't get down. She looked over the edge, and immediately regretted it. She knew how terrified of heights she was, and the long way down did nothing to soothe her. The machine began beeping even louder and faster, and she screamed, "SHUT UP, WILL YOU?!" She had failed to notice the voices had stopped after her first outburst, and realized why a second too late.

"You're awake." A slightly gravelly voice announced that someone else was in the room, and she clamped her mouth shut before turning to face the speaker.

"Yeah, I-" She froze midsentence as she saw who had spoken. Parked in the doorway was a cobalt blue 1951 Hudson Hornet, and it was alive.

"Fillmore was worried about you, keeps askin' when you're going to wake up." Foxy just stared at the car, slightly horrified.

'There is not a talking car there, there is not a talking car there.'She though to herself repeatedly, and didn't notice that she was shaking.

"You're awfully quiet." The Hornet commented, then noticed that she was shaking. "What's the matter? You're shakin'." She couldn't answer, just sat on the lift and continued to shake like a leaf. Finally, her words came back to her, and she opened her mouth. All that came out was a squeak, and the Hornet laughed. She found it easier to laugh, and when she did, it loosened her tongue a little.

"M-My name's Elizabeth, but everyone just calls me Foxy. Or Pajama Foxy." She added with a laugh.

"Then why does this say 'Mariana'?" Doc replied, holding up the collar with a tire and looking at it curiously.

"Oh, that's the nickname I gave myself! Some of my friends even call me Maria."

"There's another Mariana here. You might like her." The Hornet replied, and Foxy could hear a hint of Southern accent mixed in with the gravelly voice.

"C-Can I get down now, Mr...?"

"Just call me Doc."

"All right. Could I get down, Doc? I'm kind of terrified of heights."

"Sure." He hit a switch with a tire, and Foxy clung to the lift as it lowered to the ground. She stood up shakily, then walked off the lift.

"Thank you." She breathed a sigh of relief, then turned to Doc. "Could I have my collar back, please? It's got my house key on it."

"Certainly." He replied, handing it to her. She smiled, then put it on. She shook her head, making her hair dance from side to side as her tags jingled on her collar. "Much better. Thank you."

"I take it that you're just a girl, aren't ya?" Doc asked, and Foxy nodded.

"I have no idea how I got here though." She confessed. "The last thing I remember, I was looking at my dad's Corvette, then I saw a shooting star and made a wish."

"A Corvette, ya said?"

"Yeah, one of the classy ones. Why?"

"A Corvette showed up at around the same time you did, kept looking for ya."

"Where are they?"

"I think he's over at the motel for the night."

"It's nighttime?"

"Ya were out for three hours." Doc replied to her questions patiently, knowing that she was completely lost.

"Where is the motel? I should go check on 'him'." She said doubtfully.

"Just roll outside, you should see a sign that says 'Cozy Cone'." Doc replied, and she walked out the doors cautiously.

"Oh my..." Everywhere she looked, cars or something relating to them.

Sorry for that REEEEEAAAAALLLLLY long document you guys! I decided to cut it down to chapters, since I don't normally write in Chapters, i write in pages. XD Anyways, here's how Foxy's introduced! How do you like her? She's supposed to be like me, just more awesome. And I don't own anything pertaining to Cars or Cars 2, although I wish I did. -_-