"Speed, I am speed. I can float like a Cadillac, I can sting like a Beamer. I am faster than fast, I am quicker than quick...I am Lightning McQueen. I can do-"
There were a few pounds on the trailer door. "Yo McQueen, it's time for the race to begin."
He left out a big sigh as the trailer door opened and there was Cal, leaning against the wall, arms folded. McQueen walked down the door, all the while getting a cheeky smirk from Cal.
"What?"
"It's been years since you've done that." Cal looked closely at Lightning. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were nervous."
The door behind him raised up. "Nervous, why would I be nervous?" Lightning scoffed as he walked away. Cal started to walk alongside him.
"Because of that new rookie, Jackson Storm?"
"Why would I be nervous of him?"
"Well, he did set one of the fastest times in a qualifying round last race, much faster than you ever could set and won that race."
"Beginner's luck." McQueen retorted.
"And then he set a fast lap, which became a track record today and is starting on pole position, alongside you." He paused impressively. "Hey, I could be reading the signals wrong but that's what it looks like."
McQueen rolled his eyes. The two stopped outside Octane Gain's garage and McQueen pounded the door three times before turning to Cal.
"Look, Cal, I got nothing to be nervous about. He's going against a seven time Piston Cup champ, he's got no chance. And not to mention a one-time winner," He said, elbowing suggestively at Cal, "and with Bobby's two-time winning title, he should be the one who's-"
He broke off as a tall, powerfully built man walked out. Lightning and Cal looked the man up and down in disbelief. The man up turned his nose at them, sniffing pompously.
"Yes?" He said coolly. Cal & McQueen blinked confused, at the figure before them.
"Wait, who are you?"
"Who wants to know?" The condescension in his voice never left as he eyed Cal and McQueen with mild annoyance.
The two froze to see the Octane Gain logo was on the sleeves and chest pocket of the big man's racing suit, as well as on the helmet under his arm. He also had the number 19 on the gloves.
"You're racing for Octane Gain?" Cal asked.
"No...I just wanted to put on this suit," he replied sarcastically, "Of course I'm racing for Octane Gain," he snapped as he walked away and rolled his eyes.
"But, if you're racing for Octane Gain...what happened to Bobby?"
"Bobby Swift?" the big man asked, raising an eyebrow. Cal and McQueen nodded. "Got fired, wasn't the only one though."
The two looked at each other, worried.

"You can't do this! I've gotten two wins this season!"
Brick's boss sighed. "It doesn't matter how successful you are when your replacement is more successful."
"He hasn't even won one race yet."
"Well, that's all about to change. Chase is better in every way."
"But, but-"
"Brick, this is my decision! Pack up your things and let Chase get settled in. He needs to relax before the big race."
Brick sighed sadly as his ex-boss walked away. His car was pushed out and into his trailer while the next-gen car was pushed out of the next-gen trailer into the garage. A man who was built like Danny eyed Brick before walking away, into the garage. Brick began walking away when he nearly bumped into McQueen and Cal.
"Oh hey boys."
"You got fired too, huh?"
"Yeah...it was fun while it lasted. I'm going to miss you two."
He gave them a small smile before his face fell and he walked away, head hanging low. The two watched him go somberly, then looked at each other.

It was the last sighting lap and Pat was taking the pack to the line. Storm and Lightning were on row one while Cal was in row four with Todd, but both Cal and McQueen couldn't help but look back at the five next-gen cars at the back of the pack.
"Morning champ." McQueen zoned back into the race as he looked over at Storm, who was talking to him from his car. "And how is our soon-to-be eight-time winner today?"
"Um...doing great. But I can't-"
"I don't know what's more of a pleasure, racing against Lightning McQueen in his farewell season or beating Lightning McQueen in his farewell season…"
"Farewell season?" McQueen asked under his breath.
"Good luck out there, champ!" Storm shouted as he drove away. McQueen looked forward, gasped and sped off before Chip and Bruce could overtake him. "You're going to need it!"
Lightning's car surged forward and overtook Storm through turn one. He had the lead for the turn but Storm quickly overtook him again, shouting "Are you trying to trick me or is that the best you can do?!"
Meanwhile, Cal was completely distracted by the next-gens. He had gone from seventh to third and back to seventh again, once the next gens overtook him.
"Come on Cal!" Strip called from the pits. "Get those revs up and keep with them."
"Sorry." Cal was losing concentration, partly because racers from the Stock Car Gen were being replaced but mostly because their cars were so much better. Cal couldn't understand how. Cal started slipping from seventh to twenty-second and couldn't get back up to speed to catch them.
"Lightning McQueen and Jackson Storm are battling it out, squaring up to each other, neither one wanting to back down." Darrell and Bob were up in the booth, watching all the action unfold. "Oh, hard luck. Rookies Ryan Laney and Bubba Wheelhouse Jr. are overtaking him, Lightning is now slipping back." Bob shook his head in pity.

The TV blinked off. Bobby, sitting in his couch, sighed. He cast his eyes to the right. On the bookshelf were his two Piston Cups. He stared at them for a few seconds before looking down and lifting himself off the couch. He glanced around the room, trying to figure out what to do next when there was a knock at the door.
When he opened, he found himself staring at a taller man in a white suit with a pale pink shirt under the jacket. "Hello," said the man. Mr Swift, isn't it?"
"Yes. It is...hold on, are you Spokesmum Richards the V, the owner of Shifty Drug?"
"The current owner, yes."
The two stared awkwardly at each other before Bobby remembered his manners. "Oh yes, please come in."
"Thank you." Spokesmum entered the room, fixing his sleeve button. Instead of sitting down, he turned to face Bobby, looking businesslike.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Richards?"
"Well, you can answer this question for me. You, Cal and McQueen were the top three racers; only a select few could ever beat you. Until Danny Swervez came along...and you got fired. But what if I told you that I can help you get back on top, if you let me?"
"How is that, sir?"
Spokesmum put his hand in his jacket and pulled out a stack of papers, clipped to a clipboard. "If you want to get back on top, you need a sponsor. I can get you back your car, your truck and driver. All you have to do is sign your name here. If you want to discuss it with your lawyer first, I understand and will wait."
Bobby glanced at the stack of papers and then back at Spokesmum. He smiled and quickly nodded at him.

A week had past and Lightning and Cal walked through the in-field. Ponchy Wipeout, Chip Gearings, Murray Clutchburn, Phil Tankson and Dud Throttleman were the next to be replaced with next-gen rookies, two of them were out on the track doing practice laps before the crowd of fans came in.
"Three minutes and fourteen seconds." McQueen seemed impressed as he looked at the time Dud's replacement, Ed Truncan, had just set. "Even I couldn't set a time like that. I mean, I get they have streamlined cars but there's got to be something else that…"
Cal wasn't listening: he was very scared. Jackson Storm had once again set the fastest lap in practice and would be starting on pole position, Ed Truncan had set the second fastest and would be starting alongside him, Ryan Laney had the third and would be in row two with Herb, who had set the fourth fastest, and Murray's replacement, Sheldon Shifter, had the fifth. The fastest Stock Car had been McQueen, but he was starting in tenth place. Cal, however, was starting fifteenth. To Cal, it just didn't make sense.
"Cal, are you even listening?" Cal zoned back in, as McQueen stared confused at him. His agent, Sterling Silver, stood at the garage door; he appeared to be texting someone.
"Oh sorry."
"Are you ok? You've been very distracted these past few weeks."
"Just...can't wrap my head around those next-gens."
"Me neither." McQueen sighed. "I mean, what's so special about them, apart from the sleek bodies?"
"I'm guessing you haven't seen the latest Chick's Picks with Chick Hicks." Sterling put his phone in his back pocket. "RSN's Statical Analysis, Natalie Certain, was on last night." The two racers looked at each other as Sterling took one of the blank pages on the countertops in the corners. "This is how she described them." He took a pause after each word as he drew a rough sketch of a next gen car. He then drew a stock car, under the next gen. He hung it up on the wall, above the toolboxes.
"You see," Sterling explained, "a stock car is built for the track, but what makes these next gens so powerful is, they were built by and for numbers. They're lowered," he drew an arrow going down, behind the next-gen car, "they were designed in a wind tunnel," he drew three lines going over the next-gen car, "and they may not have the highest top speed, but what brings it all together is the way they can hold the racing line. Any race car can get close to holding it, but these next-gens use racing simulators. These machines create a virtual racing experience as if they were racing on a track as well as helping them learn the racing line. Coupled together with the streamlined bodies of their cars, it helps them out on the straights, it's almost like they never lost any speed through the corners. Sadly, a lot of racing companies see them as the future and well…" He grabbed a corner of the sheet and tore it in two. The stock car came down and the next-gen stayed up on the wall. "You get the picture…"
Cal gulped nervously. "I hope I don't get replaced."
McQueen put his hand on Cal's shoulder. "Trust me, if anyone is getting replaced, it's me. I mean, I've been in the game much longer so I'll probably go first."
"We wouldn't even dream of it." Sterling said in disgust. "McQueen, you're our star racer and if we let you go, Rust-Eze's owners and I would die a little inside. Now, I must check on your team."
"I'll talk to you later Cal, I'm going to met up with Sally."
Sterling and Lightning left Cal in McQueen's garage. He stared at the drawing of the next gen car. It wasn't just the car he was afraid of, it was the drivers too. After all, a racecar isn't complete without a driver and a racecar driver wasn't complete without a racecar.
At that moment, his thoughts were rudely interrupted by the arrival of a new trailer, which reversed into one of the available spots. Cal slowly walked out of the garage and into the light. At first, Cal thought it was a new Next Gen trailer, but when he saw it, he was confused. It appeared to be the exact same as the trailers McQueen and Cal were transported in and was a pale pink. Cal read the logo on the door: Shifty Drug. Then, the door opened and lowered to the ground. Inside, there was a stock car, in a pale pink and cream striped livery. It bore the number 35 and the sponsor's logo of Shifty Drug. As Cal was still staring, the driver of the car hopped out of the cab behind him and when he saw Cal.
"Nice to see you haven't been fired." Bobby smiled warmly.
Cal whirled. "Bobby!" he exclaimed in delight. The two hugged each other and patted each other's backs.
"It's great to see you again, old friend." Cal looked closely at Bobby's outfit. It had the same pale pink and light yellow colour scheme as the car and trailer, and the number 35. "Shifty Drug?"
"Turns out they needed a driver."
"Well, it's great to see ya again, buddy." Bobby removed one of his hands from around Cal and placed it on Cal's head, ruffling his hair as he did.
"Bobby Shift, back from the retirement home. How nice to see you," came a voice. The two shared a glare of pure annoyance as they looked at Storm, leaning against a wall. He smirked as he pushed himself off the wall and walked up to the pair.
"My name is Swift," Bobby growled as he walked past.
"Oh, I'm sorry. We don't really care for last-placers." Their faces turned confused as four men walked out behind Storm. Bobby glared as he notice the Octane Gain logo on one of them.
"Allow me to introduce to my posse. Daniel Swervez, Ryan Laney, Chase Racelott & Bubba Wheelhouse. One thing you got to know about them, they're better than you in every single way, not as great as me though..." The other four men rolled their eyes together. Storm's eyes fell on Cal as he gave him an evil grin. "And much better than some two-bit wannabe, living in his uncle's glory."
The four just laughed as Bobby stepped in front of Cal. "Cal is much better than you'll ever be."
"Really?" Chase laughed, elbowing Ryan as he did. "Because I could have sworn he came in last place, last week." Ryan burst out laughing.
"And even if he isn't starting last this race, let's see how long that lasts."
"Face it, kid. You're old news. Time to pack up and go home and let the real racecars race."
Meanwhile, McQueen and Sally were walking and talking when McQueen noticed Bobby. "Is that Bobby?"
Sally lifted her head of his shoulder and looked over. "Looks like it is. And Cal too. And is that Storm…"
As soon as the word Storm came out of her mouth, McQueen dashed off. He stepped between Cal and Storm, startling Storm, who stepped back . "Leave him alone." growled McQueen. Storm's smirk came back once again.
"Well, if it isn't the king of the three old timers," he chuckled.
"I'm sorry, we couldn't hear you from the loser circle," Bubba taunted. McQueen glared at Bubba. The other four laughed again.
"It's nice to have the ex-top three back," Chase snarled sarcastically as walked away.
"Makes it all the more fun when we beat you," Ryan added.
"When I beat him," Storm corrected as he darted in front of Chase and walked away with the two in tow.
"Have a nice day," chorused Bubba and Danny as they followed Ryan, Storm and Chase, laughing as they walked off. Bobby growled as he watched them.
"What utter jerks." Bobby snarled.
"Who do they think they are?" McQueen murmured in agreement.
"Am I really a two-bit wannabe?" Cal asked, his voice shaking.
"Of course not." McQueen consoled him. Sally joined the trio and wrapped her arm around his waist. His face turned serious. "Storm's friends don't scare us, they're just his incompetent henchmen. Our main concern is Storm, if he thinks he can just insult us like that, well, he's got another think coming." Bobby and Cal agreed.

But as time went on, Cal realized something the other two didn't. Sure, they saw it too, but didn't think much of it, whereas Cal did. More and more Stock Car drivers were being fired or had retired to make way for the bigger and faster Next Gen drivers. It made the field hard to get through, and the nervousness was getting to him.
The third last race had come and gone and with two more races to the season, it was clear to Cal that he wasn't the racer he thought he was. He sat on the pit wall in his pit box.
"Well look who it is," smirked Storm , who was with Chase and Ryan. "The two-bit wannabe."
"I'm not a two-bit wannabe," Cal snarled, standing up and staring at Storm.
"Oh...he's got attitude." Storm smirked mockingly. "Shame you can't swap that attitude for proper racing skills."
"Who do you think you're fooling, kid?" Chase gave him a serious glare. "You're not the racer you think you are. You're just like your uncle. Old...slow...except nowhere near as successful."
"You're living off his old glory. Not even trying to make your own," Ryan added. "How are you supposed to beat us when you're not even trying."
"Supposed to beat ME," Storm corrected again.
"What are you doing here?" Strip hissed. "How about you leave before I have security throw you out?"
Ryan seemed worried and walked away the fastest, Chase seemed worried for a few seconds before returning back to his normal glare and walked away too. Storm snarled at Strip but exhaled sharply and angrily before he, too, walked away.
"You ok, kid?"
"I'm fine, Uncle S," Cal smiled.
"Good." Strip looked at the three next-gens walking away. "Best not to think about them. They run their cars like they run their mouths: loud, annoying and inexperienced. They couldn't fix a road to save their life." He winked and started to walk away.
Cal chuckled weakly, watching his uncle until he was out of sight. He sighed. It was harder for Cal to ignore the facts when they were right. All his finishing placements, all his points, Cal was slowly beginning to realise that what Storm had told Bobby was right. The winds of change were here and instead of Bobby's car not being modified to handle the winds, it was Cal's. He really didn't want to admit it, but deep down he knew Storm was right. He felt as old as his uncle, as slow as a Model T, as weak as a newborn baby…

The second to last race had come and gone. McQueen was beaten by Storm once again and Chick was on the winners' podium, talking to Storm.
"Welcome back to Chick's Picks with Chick Hicks, I'm your host and forever Piston Cup champion, Chick Hicks. We're live right now at Heartland Speedway with rookie sensation and tonight's winner, Jackson Storm. At this point, I'm guessing there's no doubt in your mind you were going to win, as there's no doubt in Lightning McQueen's mind he was going to lose!"
McQueen was leaning up against the chain link fence, glaring all the while at the screen. Bobby was beside him but turned away in disgust.
"Nah, nah. There's no doubt in anyone's mind at this point-"
McQueen's focus shifted away from the screen as he heard someone ask a question. He turned, hoping he had heard wrong.
"Is Lightning McQueen going to be replaced?" a reporter was asking Dusty. McQueen could see that his and Bobby's sponsors were being barked at by reporters, all asking rapid-fire questions.
"Did you bring Bobby back into the racing scene too soon?" Another asked Spokesmum.
"Will they finish the season?"
Bobby and Lightning quickly walked into the throng and stepped in front of their sponsors.
"Hey, hey, hey. Let's not overreact. It's been a long season, we had no idea these next-gens were coming and we couldn't prepare yourself for their arrival. Bobby and I can guarantee that we will get better by next season. Cal can too."
"It's been a long night and I'm sure our sponsors want to head home," Bobby agreed. "That's enough, no more questions, no more comments." Bobby and McQueen turned around and walked away with their sponsors in tow.
"Not even about Cal Weathers retiring?"
Both Bobby and Lightning froze. They both hoped they had heard that wrong too.
"What did you say?" Bobby asked. Neither of them even turned around.
"Cal Weathers. He retired right after the race. Tex was actually quite shocked about it too. Strip wasn't as shocked as Tex though."
The two shared a look before walking off. "No...no comment on that either."

Cal and his crew pushed his car into the trailer and then they walked backwards to close the door. As the door closed, Cal looked to his right to the long line of next gen trailers. Then, he looked to his left. Tank Coat's Reb Meeker had been fired after the race and he had already left so only Lightning's and Bobby's were left. He didn't feel right about leaving the two to fight on their own against the next gens but considering he couldn't even get into the top twenty, what good was he at all? He sighed sadly and walked around to the enter the cab.
"Hey Cal!" He stopped and looked back as Bobby and Lightning run up to him. "You're retiring?"
Cal nodded, leaving out another sigh. "You know, I asked my uncle when it was time to call it quits, you know he said, the youngsters will tell you." He opened the door and climbed in. They both walked up alongside and looked up.
"We had some great times together...I just wish it hadn't ended so soon…"
"Yeah...you take care of yourself bud."
"You too…" Cal hit the button and the window went up. "...you too…"
The truck started up and drove out of the space. Lightning and Bobby walked into the spot where the truck had been, watching it drive away. Cal looked in the mirrors, at his two friends.
"Do you think I did the right thing?" he asked his truck driver.
"I can tell you what I think, your Uncle and Tex can too, but only your conscience can tell you what's right and what's wrong, and only then can you find out if you did the right thing or not."
Cal stared at his driver for a few seconds before looking back at the mirrors. Both McQueen and Bobby watched the truck rolled down the infield exit and out of sight.

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