I don't own Cars. Pixar and Disney do. I just own Prince, Monarch and Icky Blazer, and any other future made up ones I may bring in. Reading enjoyment only. **This is how Monarch "met" Icky Blazer who would become a dear friend of his. A friend who would become like his brother and would grieve like a brother. Please let me know what you think.

***I promised a reader of mine to tone it down a bit although there will likely be some language in future chapters. Thanks for the advice!

NOTE: BOLD AND ITALLICS PRECEDED AND FOLLOWED BY AN ASTERISK (*) SUGGEST FLASH BACK.

Chapter 3

Animosity to Friendship

Doc cradled his wife close with a tire almost over her top as far out as he could reach it. After all these years Prince still didn't talk much and at times even seemed to still be somewhat "intimidated" by him. She didn't have to talk much because he long ago knew how to almost read her thoughts. So much heartache had taken place in such a short amount of time. He tried for the moment to reflect back on a somewhat happier time of his son encountering who would become one of his closest friends, even though the initial meeting itself was jarred by rudeness on Monarch's part, followed by an outrageous display of poor sportsmanship at the track that left Doc confused, hurt, and angry. Very disappointed in his son, eventually understanding perhaps why he did what he did, but by no means approving of it. What Monarch did that day at the Nevada 500 likewise left his mother stunned and upset because a piece of her past came back to life over that incident. In the end, amends were made and a lasting friendship was born from it, one that too, ended tragically for this new friend of Monarch's. Now that Doc thought of it, it was even a bit amusing the way the other race car went after Monarch, after what Monarch did on the track, Doc couldn't blame him. No, it was downright laughable now, although at the time it was anything but.

*Flashback:

Monarch began his amateur racing at age 17. He still went to school, about to start college. He was determined to pursue a degree and try to race as a career. He competed at all local and state levels across Arizona, representing his university and quickly caught the eyes of the professional circuit. The kid was good. By the time he was 21 he had a shelf full of trophies placing in ranks from 1st to 3rd, and he even kept all articles on him in which he came in very last. Monarch didn't even place in the top 10 in many of his races. There was a reason for it because he had two major disadvantages: 1) because of how his rear tires were completely covered by his body frame, this became a problem for his pit crew when his tires needed changing. Racing regulation did not allow cars to alter their basic shapes to "accommodate" a racing lifestyle; they entered as is, and had to work at being good. The only exception was getting rid of headlights and horns. That was it. Everything else stayed the same and if that car had a build different from a "normal" racer, they had to deal with it as best they could. Since the mid 30s when racing began, the rules were the same for everybody and anyone entering a racer's lifestyle understood this, Monarch included . Because of how he was shaped in the back it took longer than usually to change out all four of his tires because he had to raise up for his forklifts to get their arms under him to lift him up. He then had to stretch his back axles out to expose his rims to them and this added many more seconds, sometimes minutes to getting his new ones on in the back.

In racing seconds or minutes meant the difference between rank placement and beating the pace car out. Minutes could put a car so far behind that it was impossible to catch up once getting back in line. Monarch's team was fast, his front wheels were a piece of cake, but being as it was, they and Monarch preferred ensuring his back tires were on properly over getting him back out into his former position. The last thing any one needed was him screeching back onto the track with a poorly bolted back tire in place, only to have it come off in the second half of the race. His second disadvantage was 2) he didn't handle turns well. His interesting physique forced him to slow down more than other cars on a turn and, in just a few seconds he would end up behind everyone else. Even though he had perfected the "right-turn-to-go-left" power-slide his father and Lightning taught him he still couldn't go as fast as the other cars turning because he would flip. He had already flipped twice in as many races, completely freaking his mother out. He was only mildly injured, and was able to drive away from both. In the last one he flipped over once and landed on his hood. And stayed like that. He had no choice but to slow down as he approached a turn, once again thanks to his design. But Monarch also had advantages. BIG ones.

Currently he was the fastest known car in racing and he had Mom's side to thank for it. He almost went up to 270 going straight when most cars generally didn't go over 150 or so. And not only was he fast but he had the endurance of a true racer also. He could maintain such speeds for ever it seemed, without becoming exhausted. Parental wonder again played here; he had Pops to thank for that. All racers had endurance, they had to. But none of them had endurance AND could race like a Lamborghini. Once Monarch got ahead, assuming he didn't foul up on a turn or take forever in the pit, there was no way for any one to catch up him. End of story. His unique abilities coupled with his heart-warming personality made him a quick favorite in the eyes of many race enthusiasts. So it was no shock when he quickly turned up in the professional world by the time he was 22. His racing sobriquet was his actual name: Monarch Spirit Warrior. But he added a fancy touch by putting his Native American last name in quotation marks. So his sides read as "Monarch "Spirit Warrior" " as he had the spirit of a racer and he was a road warrior. He had a unique enough name anyway so there was no need for him to get truly flashy. Some did resort to calling him "The Hornet's Kid". And everyone knew who his father was. He knew he would probably never live up to his father's legacy or even never get out of Dad's shadow as "The Hornet's Kid" and he was fine with that. He was proud to be The Fabulous Hudson Hornet's brat. To those closest to him he made no secret
that he was his father's biggest fan. To many of the older followers of the sport he did remind them of The Fabulous Hudson Hornet: humble, ordinary, not one to flaunt his fame, courteous and racing for the fans. Doc was very grateful that his son didn't come off as an egotistical, god-of-the-cars punk like many transformed into.

He and Prince had taught Monarch to always treat others as he would treat himself. That was fine and dandy until the Nevada 500, which was a step below
the Piston Cup. This was one of the big national races, the one that determined who would go to the Piston Cup next year. A big sponsor of the 500 none other
than Dinoco who was looking for a new face. There were several contenders , one was Monarch. He truly wasn't pursuing a Dinoco sponsorship because he was
quite happy with his place of representing Radiator Springs. If he got it, he'd be happy of course but he was excited about just being in the 500. This was a top gun race like the Piston was. He had finally made it into the big circuit. There was another competitor there from Las Vegas Icky Blazer, an ASA Late Model racer. He was really good too, one who could give Monarch and a few others a run for their money. It all started when Monarch pulled up to another sponsor tent and overheard some forklifts talking about Icky Blazer. It was completely by accident that he found out what he found out; he wasn't trying to eavesdrop. He just happened to roll by and couldn't help but hear the conversation as they were within side view shot.

x

"Icky Blazer from Nevada. That guy is. He's damn good too. His father owns a sling of hotels all over Las Vegas, one of them is the Mirage hotel. He's owned the
Mirage since the early 2000s He's one of the richest guys in America now". Monarch stopped. He had heard why his mother left Las Vegas in the first place, that
she worked as a show girl, and she worked at the Mirage. And that the establishment's new owner gave her all sorts of hell because she wouldn't do as he wished. AND THAT HIS NAME WAS "SOMETHING" BLAZER. That meant that this racer was somehow related to related to that owner, maybe even his… Son. An unknown level of anger started to boil up in Monarch. He didn't want to jump the gun but he had heard enough. He didn't want to be right, he wanted this gut instinct to be wrong. So he left returning to his pit where everyone else was when a VIP vehicle rolled up to strike up a conversation. And guess who came with him. "Hi everybody. Ready for the race?" The Acura asked politely. Everyone responded merrily but Monarch, who stood, scowling at the ASA Late Model racer. Others, even the targeted car, had yet to catch on to him. And it was a good thing that Prince was no where in sight. She was out somewhere on the track taking in the the scenery. Monarch's frown slowly melted into a softer but still stand-offish gaze. "Oh, I'm very excited. I'm sure my son is. I can never stop being so proud of him." Doc beamed. "You have a right to be Sir. He's a good racer." The Late Model looked at Monarch who by now didn't look as severe as he did, but still apparently didn't catch on to the animosity in the hybrid's face. He looked back at Doc and Lightning. "I wanna introduce you all to this young fellow, Monarch's he's actually only a few years older than you. This is Icky Blazer. His dad owns a lot of motels up and down the West Coast, Nevada and every where else. But he didn't get here his dad's back, he worked his way up the chain, just like you son." The Acura told Monarch. "Icky, this is Monarch." When Monarch gave not even so much as a grunt but proceeded to look Icky up and down like he had rust building on him the silence was deafening. Icky for his part was a bit unnerved because Monarch was eyeing him up as if he had committed some atrocious act on him in the past. He had never met Monarch before and was beginning to second-guess all of the good things he had heard about Monarch. Did he remind Monarch of someone who screwed him wrong? Doc was shocked. He inconspicuously nudged his son in an attempt to snap him out of his rude gaze and get him to introduce himself but Monarch didn't budge. Put on the spot of embarrassment at having his wheel shake denied, Icky looked down at the outstretched tire he had held out for Monarch to take before setting it back down.

"Uu, nice to meet you." was all he could say in this awkward moment.

"Charmed I'm sure. Forgive me if I don't shake tires." Monarch responded coldly. His sentence was heavy with sarcasm.

"Monarch; what has gotten into you?" Doc whispered inconspicuously to him.

"Uu, well you all have a good day. Good luck on the race kid." The Acura told Monarch. "Thank you sir." Monarch told him sincerely, although his callous stare never left Icky.

Icky backed away confused, somewhat hurt by the cold response he had gotten and perplexed. He flashed a brief smile at Monarch. "Good luck on the race." He told Monarch as he backed away and then returned to his pit on the other side of the track. Doc glared at his son. "That was rather rude of you. What was that all about? Did he do something to you or something?" he asked.

"Don't start on me Dad - please, okay? I don't really want to talk about it at the moment. I have to get ready for the race." Monarch retorted lamely, rather ashamed that he had done it in front of his father. Doc watched him drive off, totally mystified by his son's sudden behavior. He decided to shrug it off for the time being and go get Prince.