A Case of Southern Chivalry - A Cars/Dukes of Hazzard crossover fanfic
by Firebird
DISCLAIMER: Cars and Dukes of Hazzard are not mine. Sapphire Sky, Greg Snowtyre, and Sonja Hunter are mine.
"Ladies and Gentlecars," said Bob Cutlass up in the announcer's booth, "welcome to the Atlanta, Georgia. We have a great race for you today. We hope that you will enjoy it."
A pack of cars circled the racetrack in the center of the stadium, their engines roaring loudly, impatient to start the race. Leading the pack was Sapphire Sky, a beautiful, sleek 1994 Pontiac Firebird with a spoiler. She was cobalt blue with two white stripes that stretched from her grill to her spoiler. Her number was 20 and ClearShield was her sponsor.
"We have a special treat for you folks," said Darrell Cartrip, alongside Bob Cutlass,"Racing with the pack today is Sapphire Sky, daughter of The King, a legend in the racing circuit. She has since had more success than she did while her father was still racing. Already, she has three Piston Cups in her ownership and she is hoping to win another one."
"Except that she has some pretty tough competition from three other well-known and experienced racers," said Bob,"Chick Hicks, Dale Earncar Junior, and Lightning McQueen."
"Right you are Bob," agreed Darrell, beginning to jump up and down on his front wheels, "Chick Hicks has been racing the circuit for years, yet he has always been behind the tailfin of The King and has usually come in second or third place. Now he has to contend with The King's daughter on the racetrack."
Bob took up the commentary, hoping that his friend would not overheat from the excitement of the race, "Then there's Dale Earncar Junior. He is the son of the late Dale Earncar of the same name who had once been known as The Intimidator. He is racing in his father's memory and also hopes to live up to his father's name. And lastly, there is Lightning McQueen. Once an unknown rookie racecar who had burst upon the racing scene and earned himself the right to race in the Piston Cup Championship. Once finished in a three-way tie with The King and Chick Hicks and went to California to take up the race to win the Piston Cup. In a surprise move, McQueen stopped just short of the finish line and went back to help The King across so that veteran racer could retire in dignity. His headquarters is based in a little town called Radiator Springs along Route 66."
Sapphire was barely listening to Bob and Darrell. She was counting how many cars were on the racetrack. There was about 40 in all. She saw McQueen, Junior, and Chick among the pack. There was also an orange stock car within the pack. He had a Confederate flag on his hood and the number #01 on his doors. He looked to be a 1970s Dodge Charger.
The green flag dropped, starting the race. Cars shot off like bullets, each weaving around and past other cars, some getting stuck behind other racers. Sapphire had no difficulty keeping pole position as leader of the pack. With Junior and the others three cars behind her, Sapphire knew that she was going to win the race.
"Be careful, Sapphire," came the voice of her crew chief, Greg Snowtyre, "McQueen and Chick are coming up on you fast. Block them now."
"Right, got it, Greg," acknowledged the cobalt blue racecar, who sped up to cut off her pursuers from getting the pole position that was currently hers.
A flash of orange passed the three contenders, startling them out of their jostling. They quickly sought to remedy the situation. Sapphire and Lightning came up on either of the Dodge Charger's sides. The name above the door revealed the identity of the racer. General Lee.
Lightning pulled ahead and took pole position for awhile. Sapphire rushed after him. General Lee quickly followed with Chick Hicks close under his bumper. The cobalt blue racecar managed to pass Lightning again. General Lee came up beside her, but did not pass.
"Now, how do you like that?" said Bob, looking down at the racetrack, "Sapphire Sky and Hazzard County's own homeboy, General Lee Duke, are racing fender to fender, and it looks like they are not going to let up anytime soon."
The cars in the audience began to cheer and urge on their favorite leader. Sapphire gunned her engine and sped up, determined to win back her rightful place as pack leader. McQueen and Junior were still trailing behind her and General Lee.
"Hey," Sapphire told the orange stock car beside her, "only one of us is going to cross the finish line first and it's going to be me."
General Lee smiled and replied in a deep, drawling baritone, "Ah'll take that challenge, darlin'."
Both cars jostled for pole position and went as fast as possible. They were too distracted by their speed duel, that neither noticed Chick Hicks closing in on Sapphire's back bumper. He gave Sapphire a shove so hard that it sent her spinning into the wall then unpending and tumbling into the infield. She came to a stop in a paralyzed state and in extreme pain.
The audience gasped, but the car that was more shocked at this was General Lee, who gave Chick a whithering glare and went back to the infield and began to gently push a battered Sapphire back on the racetrack and across the finish line. Everyone cheered at this chivalous act by the Southern newcomer. Even Bob and Darrell were commenting on it.
McQueen, Junior, and The King met the two at the ClearShield sponsor tent where Sapphire's loyal pit crew immediately begain to repair the outside damage, but they couldn't fix the damage that was inside.
"I'll go get Doc," McQueen said and sped off to get his crew chief, who also happened to the Radiator Springs' only doctor as well as the judge and was also the Fabulous Hudson Hornet. The others watched him go.
Soon, the red racecar returned with Doc Hudson at his side. The old car saw the concerned and worried looks on the others' faces, especially the deeply anxious expression that Strip Weathers wore. The old, retired veteran was very worried about his daughter.
"Don't worry," Doc said in a gruff, yet gentle voice, "I'll do everything that I can to see that Sapphire pulls through."
"Thanks, Doc," Strip replied gratefully.
Doc Hudson smiled and drove into the tent. The others waited anxiously outside, the group soon being joined by Greg and sponsor, Sonja Hunter. The gathering grew to include McQueen's pit crew, who also happened to be residents of Radiator Springs. Dixie Duke, a cute white jeep with a gold eagle on her hood, and Uncle Jesse Duke, a 1950s white pickup truck, joined the group, sitting on either side of General Lee.
Inside, Doc was busy working on repairing Sapphire's internal damage. He managed to stop the fuel leakage and fix the racer's broken fanbelt. Now, he was repairing the damage that the crash had done to Sapphire's pistons and axle.
This took about five hours and Sapphire had been pretty much unconscious for most of this time, occasionally rousing whenever Doc gave her insides a sharp jab that he hadn't meant to do. When he was done, Doc finally woke up the racecar.
"Wha...?" Sapphire felt groggy and sore and found herself inside the CleanShield tent.
"It's okay, Miss Sapphire," an old, gruff, yet gentle voice caught her attention, "You were badly damaged in a crash, but I fixed you up."
The lift descended smoothly and Sapphire rolled off. She was relieved to feel asphalt underneath her tires again. She turned to Doc Hudson. "Yes, I guess you did, but I only remember fragments and feeling jabs on my insides," she said, "But you are a good doctor. Thank you."
"You're welcome," the old Hornet replied, giving Sapphire a smile, "Now let's go outside. Everyone is waiting."
Sapphire followed Doc outside to those gathered around the entrance of the tent. They all tensed when Doc came out first and feared the worst, but then there was the sound of a powerful engine revving, perking them all up.
The cobalt blue Pontiac Firebird rolled out of the tent, her chassis mostly repaired, but the paint was still badly scraped from from the tumble that she had taken. Everyone cheered when they saw her, but the two cars that were the most happy to see Sapphire on her wheels were Strip Weathers and Dale Earncar Junior.
"Sapphire," Strip gave his daughter a nuzzle, "you had us all worried."
"Sorry about that, Dad," replied Sapphire nuzzling against her father's side, "Heh, now I know how you must have been feeling that day you had your crash."
Strip smiled at his daughter.
"How are you feeling?" asked Junior, who had driven up to park beside her.
"I feel a little bit groggy and sore," replied Sapphire, "but other than that I'm fine."
"Looks like you need a new paint job," Ramone commented, lifting himself up on two of his hydraulic pistons and circling the racecar.
"You would do that for me, Ramone?" asked Sapphire.
"Sure," the lowrider grinned, "Ramone will paint you up right. Maybe a new flame job to replace your old one."
"That'd be great!"
General Lee took this opportunity to roll toward the racer that, hours before, he had been fender to fender in the race.
"Glad ta see ya up an' about, darlin'," the Dodge Charger said, a smile on his grill.
"You're the one who pushed me past the finish line, weren't you?" asked Sapphire.
"Yep," answered General Lee.
Sapphire drove up and gave the orange stock car a kiss on the fender, mildly surprising him.
"Thank you."
"Uh, yer welcome..."
Dixie giggled and drove up next to her big cousin, snuggling against him.
"Oh, cous, Ah'm so proud o' ya," she told General Lee.
"Ahh, thank ya, Dixie," chuckled the Dodge Charger, "That's why yer muh favorite cousin."
"Ah'm yer only cousin, ya ol' dirt racer," Dixie teased him.
"Dirt racer?" Lightning McQueen perked up.
"That's what Ah am," explained General Lee, "usually Ah participate in local races in Hazzard County. Ah know all the dirt roads around there an' can drive on 'em quite easily."
"Can you teach me?" asked McQueen.
"Sure, if'n ya can handle tight turns and keep up with me," replied the orange Dodge Charger, "If yer ever in Hazzard County, give me a hollar."
"I'll keep that in mind," said McQueen, "Thanks."
The professional racers and the country racer part ways with their friends and family. Sapphire, Junior, and Stip said goodbye to the Radiator Springs crew and headed for her trailer with her best friend and father. She wondered if there was ever going to a Piston Cup race in Hazzard County.
Maybe. Just maybe, she thought, Possibly in the future.
The End