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You can have a certain arrogance, and I think that's fine, but what you should never lose is the respect for the others.

—Steffi Graf—

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Three days later they arrived in Radiator Springs to a lonesome town along Route 66. It was so small that a car could turn a single block and be on the steps of the interstate. Storm glanced through the tinted window at the cars gathering around the trailer outside. This small assembly probably included every resident in the town.

"Okay, here we go!" Cruz stepped on the latch. McQueen had made him get in the trailer first at the last pitstop this time, so he had to wait for Cruz and Lightning to back out first.

"Cruz!" the cars cheered as soon as the door lowered.

"Hey, guys!" The yellow racer rode out and down the ramp. "Long time no see!"

Storm expected Lightning to follow her, but he didn't shift gears. Instead, he remained parked in place, glaring at him. Seconds past and then a minute until Storm grew tired of looking at Lightning's grill. "What?" he deadpanned. If he remained parked there any longer, Storm was convinced he will memorize every bolt, scratch, and blemish on Lightning's paint.

"Something about you isn't right…" Lightning muttered.

Oh, so the veteran racer was on to him. So what? That was old news to Storm. It couldn't be more obvious except to the oblivious Cruz.

"Is my tire pressure off or something?" Storm mocked him.

Lightning was not amused. "You know what I mean, Storm! I don't know what you're really up too yet, but while you're here you best watch yourself."

"Are you threatening me now, McQueen?" came his blunt reply.

"No, I'm warning you. That's a difference," Lightning smiled, but there was a shadow on his lips with an unspoken promise of retaliation. "As long as you behave, I behave. You have nothing to worry about-"

"Hey, Lightning! Are you coming out or not?" someone shouted from the outside. "Everyone's eager to see you!"

"Coming! Lightning called over his shoulder. He turned back to Storm. "Behave," he said one last time before backing out of the trailer. His countenance brightening as he greeted his friends. "Hey, everyone!"

They returned his greeting ebulliently, but one voice, in particular, overpowered them all. "WELL DADGUM, YER BACK!"

A rusty old tow truck sped forward. He was missing his hood and had faded turquoise paint. "Hey, there buddy!"

"Mater!" Lightning whooped. He bumped tires with him. "Great to see you!" They then began to do a more elaborated tireshake that involved front and back, side by side and even a twist and several twirls.

Storm blinked. That was the dorkiest thing he had ever seen. Was this was a prelude to the level of crazy he will experience while staying here at Radiator Springs?

"Welcome home, Stickers."

Lightning's eyes twinkled when a baby blue Porsche with alloy wheels drove up beside him. She was neither old nor young. Storm imagined her to be quite a babe back in her prime. "Sally!" Lightning nuzzled her fender lovingly. "I've missed you, hon!"

Sally leaned in nuzzling him back. "I missed you more," she replies. "Glad you're back."

Storm remembered the big uproar the press made when Lightning finally married his longtime girlfriend some months back. It was rare for racers to marry their sweethearts. Many focused so hard on their careers that love ended up in the slow lane and getting bypassed along the way.

Lightning pulled back. Once he got a good look at her, his shades went all the way up to his hood. "Whoa, Sally!" he exclaimed.

"What-"

"You look, wow!" he told her.

She giggled. "That's nice to hear. Sooo descriptive too!" she teased merrily.

"Really, you do!" he insisted. "Did you get a fresh coat of wax or something? You look like you're sparkling in the sunlight!"

"Ah," A soft smile crossed her face. "Maybe there's a reason behind that…"

Lightning looked puzzled. "Huh… just what do you mean by that?"

"I'll tell you later…" she promised. "So!" the Porsche turned her attention towards Cruz. "How's the Queen of the East doing?"

"Ahh, Mrs. Sally!" Cruz moaned with embarrassment. The media may call me that, but don't use the nickname around here!"

"Whatever you say, your highness."

What a hokey family reunion this was turning into. Storm decided to finally emerge from the darkness of the trailer. As he expected, their reactions were less than welcoming at his presence. It would have been a warmer reception to Count Dracula at a carriage car slumber party.

"S-Storm?! Storm is here?!"

"Hmph! What is the likes of him doing here?" A yellow Fiat demanded.

"How did he get in that trailer?! Is he a stole away or something?"

"That's kind of impossible..." someone reasoned. "To sneak into the trailer and travel for days... unless..."

They all turned to Lightning for an explanation.

"Cruz brought him," McQueen explained with the least amount of enthusiasm in the world.

Cruz sent him an annoyed look. "Listen, everyone!" she raised her voice to address the crowd. "I brought Jackson Storm along as a guest. So please be your hospitable selves, alright?"

Instead, all they sent Storm were open looks of suspicion. No one seemed willing to approach him first. That was until McQueen's wife drove forward. "I know we have gotten off on a flat tire but, if Cruz thinks you deserve a fresh start then who are we to judge?"

She smiled at him kindly. "I am Sally," she introduced herself formally. "It's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance."

Storm smiled, hoping he appeared friendly. "The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. McQueen."

Apparently, Sally was the monarch of the town because now the rest of the folks came forward without hesitation.

"Welcome to Radiator Springs, Honey!" chirped a snazzy 1950 green show-car. "The name's Flo! If you ever get thirsty come down to Flo's V8 Cafe!"

Storm glanced at her station across the street. It seemed old-fashioned with all the 1960's getup, but the gas pumps looked very well up kept. "I'll remember that."

Mater drove up next, wagging his towing cable like a dog's tail. Storm inwardly cringed. He would have put his gears in reverse if this rust bucket came any closer. "If ya ever need a tow call Mater, Tow Mater!" he smiled widely, showing off uneven buck teeth.

"…right." And this was supposed to be Lightning McQueen's legendary "best friend"? Storm was not impressed. This tow truck seemed like nothing but some dumb hillbilly. "I'm never planning on taking you up on it, but thanks."

"I'm Ramone!" announced the next car sporting a rather flamboyant custom paint job. "I run the House of Body Art shop and currently the town doc! I can fix you up and get you a new coat of paint in a jiffy. Whether you want some effects like golden flames, a new spoiler or simply a wax and tuneup, Ramone's your man!"

"Hm…" Storm contemplated that a nice buffer and wax would look nice on him. "…maybe I'll get a coating later."

An old yellow Fiat drove up. "I am Luigi and this is Guido," he motioned to a little blue forklift parked beside him. "We run the tire store down the block, Luigi's Casa Della Tires! Since you are an acquaintance of Cruz's, I would like to cut you a sizzling hot deal on our tires!"

"A generous offer, but I'm a racer like McQueen was. That means I get my tires for free. You got to know that, right?"

"Oh ha, ha! Another one of those customers!" Luigi said this while winking at McQueen.

Lightning simply rolled his eyes.

"I'll tell you what," the little car bumped tires with him, unknowingly irking Storm. "My best offer upfront! You buy two tires and get two free!" he announced excitedly. "Un grande affare! You can't get better than fifty percent off, friend!"

Storm sent him a withering look. "If I buy a set, will you leave me alone?"

Luigi happily accepted his proposition. "I like your style!"

Storm never planned to use the tires he purchased, but he would donate them to a nearby homeless shelter as an anonymous donor. "I'll take four of the lightyears-"

"No!" the little car interrupted him. "Luigi tells you!"

Storm frowned. What was with this loon? "What are you talking about?" he demanded. "It's my money, my tires-"

"Wrong! My shop, my tires and you're my customer! Style with durability! Flare with quality! I always pick the right tire for the right car!"

"Whatever," Storm just wanted the annoying Fiat away from him. "Charge your picks to me and then please leave me the pit alone—WAGH!" he yelped uncharacteristically loud when he felt an unexpected slap across his rear bumper.

"What the heck?!" Storm jumped. "Who touched me?!"

"Heh, heh!" An old Ford Model T rode out from behind him. "It's on the house from the Radiator Springs Curios shop!" she crackled.

"Oh how nice!" Sally remarked, trying and failing to hide her amusement. "Lizzie has given you a free bumper sticker!"

Storm glared at the elderly car who violated him. "How generous..." he gritted. "What does it say?"

"Hm, let's see..." Cruz peered behind him. "It reads: "You tailgate, I backfire"?"

The surrounding cars burst out into laughter.

"Oh, Lizzie!" Cruz looked embarrassed. "Please behave!"

"What?" the old lady asked defensively. "I'm just being hospitable like you asked!" She drove back onto her porch. "And congratulations, Cruz. It's about time you got yourself a young good looking hotrod!"

"H-He's not my boyfriend, Liz!" Cruz sputtered. "He's a friend!"

"Whatever you say, dear-"

"I mean it!"

"Oh, really?"

"YES!"

"If that's the case then I'll take him off your tires-"

"LIZZIE!"

Just how crazy are these country bumpkins? Storm wondered if coming here was a good idea at all. Will he get out of Radiator Springs alive and with all his parts intact by the end of this ill-conceived plan of his? At this rate, it would be a challenge.

"So where are Sarge and Fillmore?" Lightning asked suddenly.

Cruz glanced around. "Yeah, not to mention Sheriff and Big Red..."

By the manufacturer, no! Storm was about ready to hit the escape button.

"They're busy," Ramone answered, much to Storm's relief. "Sarge is in the middle of Boot Camp training some more city SUVs and Fillmore is with some customers in the back of his…" he cringed slightly. "…Lovebed… ugh, I wish he would change the name of his lounge, man, it's creepy!"

"Oh!" Cruz brightened suddenly. She was looking over toward the firehouse. A dated-looking firetruck was busy watering the flowers in his window garden. "There's Red! Hey, Red! Come over here and greet Jackson Storm!"

Red looked up, appearing startled by Cruz's invite. He gasped and then he hurriedly closed the window.

Storm blinked. Just what was that?

"Red is too shy, honey!" Flo chuckled. "He'll eventually say "Hi" when he warms up to him! And you won't be seeing Sheriff today either. He's on patrol near Wheel Well again."

"Ahh," Cruz sounded disappointed. "That's too bad... when will he be back?"

Sally shook her head. "Not for a couple of nights. He's determined to jail the Nut and Bolt Flicker Gang."

Mater, who was parked nearby, snorted into unhinged laughter. Storm had to agree, their name was anything but intimidating.

"Can you blame Sheriff for wanting them off the streets? Those hoodlums are car buzzards!" Flo shuddered. "Hate to be at their mercy in the middle of the night with no help or witnesses whatsoever!"

"That's why I am worried for the Sheriff's sake," Sally replies. "He's only one patrol car..."

Changing the subject, the blue Porche suggested to Cruz, "Why don't you show Storm around town?" she motioned towards one of the newest buildings on the block. "You can start at the Doc Hudson Museum. Lightning has added an exhibit to it recently."

Cruz perked up instantly. "He did?!"

"Ahh, Sal," Lightning practically whined. "That was supposed to be a surprise for later!"

Sally sent him an apologetic smile. "Oops. Sorry, Stickers."

"It's alright, hon." Lightning rode over to Cruz. "Guess the tracker is out the fence now. Want to go see it?"

"Of course!" she agreed without hesitation. Cruz turned to Storm. "C'mon! Let's go to the Museum!" she sped off towards the place.

"Oh goody…" Storm muttered as he followed her dutifully.

"OH!" Cruz looked around excitedly. "Oh-ho-ho-ho!"

"What?" Storm wondered what was she getting so excited about. He drove over to the new exhibit labeled, 'Piston Cup Legends'. There were portraits of every veteran racer who won a piston cup. Beneath their photographs was a plaque of their name and a brief description of their accomplishments. The trophies they won were freshly polished and sitting in a glass case.

"You added Rivers Scott!" she cheered, riding up to the stand of a 1938 Dirt Track Racer.

"Who…?" Storm murmured.

"Yep, I did," Lightning nodded proudly. "Glad you noticed," he chuckled, amused by her enthusiasm.

"How can I not?" Cruz giggled. "This is an amazing photo of him winning his last Piston Cup at the Kentucky Speedway in 1958!" she commented. Cruz darted around from section to section. "And not only him, there's also Junior Moon and Oh YES, Louise Nash, too! My hero!"

"…" Storm was speechless. He had never heard of any of these old cars before. Just what was the point to all this?

After she was done looking, Cruz turned back to her crew chief. "You got all the racing legends!" Then her smile fell. "But it's missing a veteran…"

"Who?" Lightning asked worriedly. "I thought I was thorough."

"You Mr. McQueen!" she laughed.

What sap. Storm rolled his eyes in disgust.

"Ah," Lightning smiled, appearing touched. "It's not about me, Cruz. Maybe one day, but right now I rather the focus be on these guys-"

"How pointless."

Lightning and Cruz turned to him in surprise. "What did you say?"

"These cars are obsolete. Why do you care about building a memorial to an old world? Racing today is nothing like it was back then."

A slow wistful grin crossed Lightning's lips. "It's true the world of racing has changed," he admitted. "But not it's spirit." He nodded his head towards his trainee. "Cruz is a living testimony to that."

Storm couldn't take it any longer. "You're a nostalgic old fool."

Lightning sent him an annoyed glare. "And you act like the world owes you something!"

"It does. It owes me my day," Storm replied unblushingly. "You had your chance, McQueen, but now it's time to get in the slow lane. This is my Era now, and by the time I am done, no one will remember you and especially not the Hudson Hornet."

Cruz frowned. "Storm-"

"You ungrateful punk!" Lightning hissed. "Don't you understand that these veterans were the ones who paved the way for your generation? I get it they no longer belong on the track, but it gives you no right to trash their legacies!"

"Uh-oh, it seems I've touched a nerve," Storm chuckled darkly. "Save your water pump, gramps. What's behind doesn't matter."

"You're wrong, Storm," Lightning shook his head with pity. Storm frowned. He didn't like that look, especially if it was pity directed at him. Ha! As if someone like him needed it. "How will you know where you are going when you don't know what's behind?"

Without another word, he reversed and left the museum.

Cruz remained parked on the spot just staring at him long and hard. What could be running through her head? Did he remind her too much of the old Storm? Tch. Storm decided to cut himself some slack. It was hard to keep up his facade for so long, so he deserved to blow off some steam.

"You're being very rude, Jackson," she announced finally.

"And your friends are very annoying," he retorted. "Not to mention the town being completely hokey."

Her face crumpled into disappointment. "I thought you wanted to be here…"

"I wanted a ride," Jackson corrected her. "My stimulator is now waiting less than 50 miles away, thank you very much."

"You're leaving then?" Cruz stated more than asked.

"Soon enough," he couldn't leave, not yet. Not until he saw her tricks. "I'm not in a hurry."

Cruz furrowed her brow. "I don't really understand you…"

"Hmph," Storm huffed. He really couldn't believe she was this naive. No one was, not even nuns. "I don't get you either, Rameriz," he admitted.

She seemed even more confused. "What's there not to understand?"

"How you're so gullible."

"Excuse me?" she asked with an edge. Her ire finally showing through, how cute.

"He's wrong, you know," Storm clarified. "McQueen is filling your head with lies."

"Is that so... and what lies would that be?" Cruz demanded with a sharp edge to her tone.

"That we must look to the past. It doesn't matter what's behind us because we're the future. You can learn nothing by looking behind."

"You actually believe that," She rode closer to him until their bumpers were practically touching. "Don't you?" Cruz deadpanned.

Storm blinked when he realized this was closest he has ever been to her. "Yes, I do," he confirmed.

"And that's nail that blew out the tire!" Cruz snapped. "Mess with this Bumblebee's role models and you will get stung!" Storm reversed back a little in surprise. "You and me, outside, NOW!" she ordered fiercely.

Once he overcame the shock, Storm felt strangely intrigued by the feistiness she was projecting. "And what will you do with me?" he wondered.

"I'll be setting you straight, Jackson! Get ready: I'm taking you out to the track! I'm going to show you exactly what I learned from these 'obsolete' cars. So c'mon and let's get racing and see who's lying to who!"

And here it is gift wrapped and dropped right into his leather seats. Storm couldn't help but smirk in triumph, pleased that he now had a front row ticket to her training techniques. Cruz was making it just too easy for him.

"Fine," Storm agreed, trying to sound bored. He headed for the exit. "Just don't put on a poor performance or else you'll embarrass your teachers, Autobot-"

"Heeey!" Cruz followed behind him. "I had that nickname before it got cool!"