Noah, a red teenaged Vauxhall Nova from Britain finds himself lost on the roads of America.
DISCLAIMER: All characters except Noah the Nova belogn to Disney/Pixar.
Snot rod x OC.
Angst/Romance
WARNINGS: Slash.
The red Vauxhall naervously but determinedly pressed on, a tiny speck amongst the heavy rigs, the minivans, and big, lazy American sedans that accompanied him along the busy I-40. Several of the passing cars turned their eyes to look at him, his boxy styling unfamilair to American eyes.
"Where Am I? Oh where am I?" the young car thought, as his tiny 1200cc engine struggled to keep up with the larger vehicles. Ever since he was little, Noah always wanted the simple pleasure of a fifth gear. The other kids on his street back in Brixton had that luxury - Esther the red Fiesta, Jimmy Uno, and his best friend, Micky Metro Turbo. Cursed from birth with a poverty specification, Noah always found it hard to feel accepted. Sure he had his friends, but he always felt different. He came from a big family of Novas - he was one of seven children to Manny Merit and Cindy Club. Most of his siblings became boy or girl racers and hung out at McDonalds, harassing other cars. Noah was a quiet, intorverted child by comparison.
Noah had to get off the interstate. He had to! Luckily he saw a turn-off a couple of car-lengths ahead. Hastily indicating, he lurched onto it. This was a narrower, much quieter road. Noah didn't care where he ended up, as long as it wasn't another interstate. And he thought British motorways were bad. As he drove, he suddenly caught the familar sounds of 50 Cent's "in da club" blasting out, obviously from too-loud radio. Rap music was what most of the local Brixton cars liked. Noah liked punk rock music or pop music - he just didnt see rap as real music. Suddenly, straightahead was a burst of garish neon lights as the music grew louder, and as Noah approached, he realised it was four chavved-up cars, though obviously they were bigger than Novas and Saxos he knew. In front of Noah's nose was a big orange car - it looked like a Mustang or something from the sixties, but as he got closer, he caught the "'cuda" logo on its rear. It had huge drag tires and stub exhausts under each side. SUddenly, with a tremendous sneeze, flames shot from the exhausts and the 'cuda shot forward. The other cars were exactly like the cars from Fast And The Furious. One was van-shaped, and it was that which was blasting the music. The other two were lower-slung coupés - one had a complex purple and pink paintjob, the other was greenish with an enormous rear wing.
"Yo DJ!" said the purple one, which appeared to be a Mitsubishi Eclipse, "We got ourselves a stranger!"
"Wingo! Lane change maan!" said the van, as he casually shoved Noah to the edge of the road. The large bespoilered car shoved Noah back.
Noah was too tired to care and instead tried to get more speed out of his already-stressed engine. His exhaust popped and banged as he drove himself further and further to the limit. He was depserate for a drink and knew that the only things he was running on were fumes and crap from the bottom of his tank. He could feel his carb sucking more and more air as the fuel supply dwindled even more. Rather than continue to harass him, the four tuner cars dropped back, leaving him with a clearer road.
Noah sped past a wooden sign, and at last, saw neon lights ahead. He began to drive into a small town, lit up with neon and bustling with cars. He clocked the big Ford V8 sign and with a groan of relief, pulled into Flo's Café. Already at the pumps was a VOlkswagen camper van, a bright green Buick Regal NASCAR, a low-slung red NASCAR and an old 1950s wrecker truck that looked like it had spent the last ten years in a lake. Gasping, Noah came to a stop with a series of spluttering backfires, just short of the nearest pump.
"HOLY SHUTE!" came a southern drawl. The wrecker truck had driven over to the defeated little Vauxhall.
"Mater, what's wrong?" asked Lightning, the red NASCAR.
"This lil car jest blew himself up right here!" Mater exclaimed, "I've no darn idea what sorta car this one is!"
"Me neither," said Lightning, "His licence plates look different too - he's from Britain!"
Noah was only jsut managing to stay awake.
"Here ya go honey," came a kind-sounding female voice, "Have some of ma finest fuel on the house!"
Noah opened one eye to see a green, chromed 1950s showcar, with huge tailfins. She nudged him to a pump and connected him up. Noah couldn't stay up any longer and feel asleep.