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Friendship without self-interest is one of the rare and beautiful things in life...
—Unknown—
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.Even after the carwash and touch up paint, Storm's freshly painted bumper was still tender to the touch. Cruz had offered to take him out to an early dinner at Flo's but after his humiliating ordeal Storm just wanted to be alone. He rode idly through town hoping to lose himself down an alley, but every road led him out to Route 66.
A yearning desire to hightail it to Los Angeles nearly overtook him. No, Storm shook his head. He wasn't a quitter. If this is what it took to beat Ramirez, then come barrel cactus or rust, he will master this! Storm made a U-turn and drove back into town.
A Volkswagen peace van was parked out near the edge of the road, looking a little too laid back. When he spotted Storm passing him by, he called out, "Hey, man, I haven't seen you before... Welcome to Radiator Springs!"
"Why thank you. It's such a displeasure being here," Storm replied with false merriment. "In fact, I just can't wait to leave!"
"Good, good," the van replied cheerfully, not really comprehending what Storm said. "So, are you a visitor or a newcomer?"
"Visitor," Storm answered. There was no way he would move to a dustpan like this.
"Then before you leave town, you gotta check out my store, Fillmore's Taste-In! I brew my own organic fuel and serve exotic drinks, but they're only for the adults of course!" he chuckled at the last bit.
"Are they like bar drinks?" Storm asked, hopeful. He could really use a shot of petroleum over the rocks right now.
"Naw, man. It's all natural and non-alcoholic, but it's just they're too potent for carriage cars."
"Oh…" Storm lost interest already, but Fillmore kept talking.
"My drinks also contain healing proprieties. Some for anxiety, others for pick-me-ups and lastly, pain relief."
Pain relief? The throbbing in his rear seemed to intensify at just the thought. Storm winced.
Upon seeing his grimace, Fillmore's eyes widened. "Whoa, you okay, man?"
"Just sore…" He gritted.
"Then I have something that can help," the van turned back towards his hut. "No charge this time alright? Just follow me!"
Maybe he would take it up on his offer, Storm decided. He really needed something to take the edge off.
Hours later...
"Where do you think he has gone…?" Cruz muttered worriedly. She turned on her headlights as she rode down the darkened streets. It was a quarter past 7 o' clock at twilight and Storm was nowhere to be found. It didn't help that he also ignored her phone calls.
"He probably ran for the interstate," Lightning interjected unhelpfully.
Cruz sent him a stern side glare. "You're not funny right now, Mr. McQueen."
Silence fell between them. They drove down another block. "You're still mad at me," Lightning acknowledged.
"A little," Cruz admitted. She turned on her blinker to go left down Main Street. "Did you have to provoke Storm the way you did?"
Lightning sighed as he followed her lead. "This isn't easy for me either..." he reminded her.
"I know it's not..." Cruz relented. "I thank you for your patience. Storm is Storm, but you...I just expected better from you," she sighed in disappointment.
Lightning wilted, feeling ashamed of himself. "Cruz, level with me..." he slowed his speed.
"Yeah?"
"Why are you doing this?"
Cruz came to halt, so did Lightning. "Because Storm and I are friends now. He can be a little edgy, but I think he means well…" she trailed, even to her, that didn't sound very convincing.
"You think he means well?" Lightning sent her a skeptic look. "I said it once and I'll say it again: Getting chummy with Storm is a huge mis—what in the world...?" Lightning broke off in middle sentence. "What is Fillmore doing?"
The hippy van who is usually calm and laid back, came speeding out of his house looking wide-eyed and flustered. "Hey, Fillmore!" Lightning called out to him. "Where's the fire?"
The van paused in mid-drive. "Naw man, don't call Big Red! But I still need your help!" he beckoned them over.
"What's wrong?" Cruz asked.
"Uh I… I got a customer... met him a couple of hours ago. He was suffering from pain, so I offered him a pain reliving brew, but I um…" he lowered his voice to a whisper. "…when it didn't help I gave him some of my secret stash."
"Your …what?" Cruz blinked, not understanding what he meant.
"Fillmore!" But apparently, Lightning knew. "You know most cars can't handle that in their tanks!"
"It was an accident!" the van insisted. "He downed the whole container before I could ration it out!"
Lightning shook his head. "Just take us to your victim-"
"Customer, man! He's a customer!"
"Not for long I bet," Lightning retorted.
Fillmore lead them around back of his lounge nicknamed "The love bed." The air was heavy with incense when they enter past the beaded door. Sitting inside was a solo black car parked on one of the futons near the firepit. He swayed slightly side to side looking dazed.
Cruz rushed over to him. "Storm!" she exclaimed, but he wouldn't acknowledge her. "Jackson!" she tried again. "Are you okay?!"
"I feel…" he blinked as if he had to think of the word. "…weird…" His gray eyes were dilated as he stared off to the side of her.
"Huh?" Cruz raised a shadebrow. She glanced to her right. "Just what are you looking at?"
"…there's a pink unicar next to you…" he muttered.
"Umm, no there isn't… and unicars aren't real."
Storm blinked, but the unicar was still there. It reared back on its tires, neighing majestically. "Well, that one is real."
Lightning sighed. "Just how much of Fillmore's fuel did you drink?" he demanded.
"A gallon…"
"And there goes my evening!" Lightning grumbled unhappily. "C'mon, let's get Storm to Flo's. I think she'll have some of Sarge's sober-pacs. Cruz, support his right. Drive slowly, Storm. We got you."
Storm squinted up at Cruz. His gaze unwavering. "Your eyes…" he muttered.
"…What about them?" she wondered.
"They're a common brown," he announced.
"I know-"
"But I like them," he stated decisively.
"…uhh…" Cruz blinked at the weird compliment. "…thanks?"
Storm leaned closer to her side so that their fenders were practically touching. Cruz's breath hitched. She felt strangely flustered with him leaning in so close to her that they veered off to the left. "Storm…!" Cruz nudged him back to the right. "Watch were you're going-"
"I'm going to figure you out," he announced.
Cruz tried to scoot away. "O-Of course, you will," she replied placidly.
Storm frowned. "What's wrong? You're acting so weird…"
"Look who's talking," Lightning muttered. Watching this whole scene before him with a worried eye.
Cruz forced a smile. "That's because you crossed the line and are now invading my personal space, Jackson."
"Oh…" Storm blinked slowly, but he didn't move back. "Then where's the line?"
"It's here!" Lightning bopped his tire between the coupes. "On second thought, Fillmore, you get his right! Cruz is too much of a distraction for Storm!"
Cruz fidgeted with embarrassment as she swaps places with Fillmore.
They managed to make it out the lounge and down to the gate when Storm made an abrupt stop, nearly causing Lightning to rear end him. "Hey! Why did you stop-"
"It's the unicar… IT'S TURNED INTO THE OCEAN!" Storm freaked.
One hour later...
"How are you feeling?"
"Uggh, my head hurts like I have a hangover," he complained.
Navy painted veteran nodded, apparently satisfied. "That means it's working."
"So, do you see any more unicars?" Cruz questioned him next.
Storm glared, but for once he wasn't mad at her or McQueen, he was disgusted with himself. How could he have let his guard down this bad?
"They're gone," he answered.
"And the ocean?" Lightning inquired. "See any tidal waves?"
"…just what nonsense was I jabbering?" Storm wondered aloud.
"A lot, now, answer the-"
"All dry desert now. Do I pass your sanity test now?"
Lightning and Cruz breathed a sigh of relief together.
"Good, thank the manufacturer you're back to normal," Lightning said. "Normally, I would give a car two sober-pacs, but in your condition, I gave you five."
Storm quirked a shadebrow. "Treating an overdose with another overdose?" It's official, these country bumpkins were trying to kill him. Still, at least it worked, whatever it was. "How much do I owe you for the medicine?"
Lightning shook his head. "Nothing. Sarge donated these packets for anyone who ingests too much of Fillmore's fuels. In his own words: "If you ingest that freak juice, that's payment enough!""
And Storm agreed.
Flo drove up and sat down a pint of Valvoline next to Storm. "Here's a late supper for you. It's also on the house. Eat up!"
At the sight of it, Storm looked ready to bolt. "No, I don't think so!"
"Ohohohoho, relax honey!" Flo laughed. "It's safe!"
"Really, I appreciate it," Storm insisted, "But I'm not hungry…" he shoved the can away as if it was poison. "Is there any place I can stay for the night?"
"You need to talk to Sally," Flo informed him. "She runs the town's motel called The Cozy Cone down the street. Do you need an escort?"
"I can make it on my own," Storm shifted his gears into drive and drove out from underneath the gas station's pavilion.
"Slow down!" Cruz warned him. "You're not at 100 percent yet-"
Something crunched under Storm's wheel. "What the heck…?"
"Jack!" Cruz gasped, rushing over to him. "That was Red's flowerbed!"
"Who's…?" He heard a sniffle. Storm looked up into the teary face of a fire truck. Oh, Big Red. Red's lips trembled as his watery eyes beheld his ruined flowers. "Chill bro, it's just a plant. I'll buy you another one, okay?" he offered.
The firetruck burst into tears and sped away crying.
Jackson blinked. "What just…?"
"Big Red is very sensitive," Cruz explained. "Besides, buying another plant isn't going to make up the one you squashed."
"Why not?"
Having to have seen everything, Flo called across the street. "For one thing, honey, Red has had that red begonia for years!" she glanced towards the dark blue veteran. "…ever since the last batch got ran over by a certain someone…"
"Ahem!" McQueen coughed.
Storm looked down at the crushed petals stuck to his tires. "Ugh…" he tried to shake it off. "Then I can't help him. I'm no gardener."
"You could at least apologize," Cruz insisted.
"I offered to buy him another one," Storm repeated as if that justified everything.
Cruz frowned. "That's not the same as apologizing…"
"Tch. I'll do it in the morning then!" he snapped grumpily. "Now where is the Cozy Cone?"
"The neon orange caution cone with zzzs in its sign doesn't tip you off?" Lightning muttered grumpily. He drove on ahead to the motel.
"Why is he so mad?" Storm grumbled. "It's not like McQueen had his bumper full of thorns today..."
"He was supposed to be having dinner with Mrs. Sally, but instead he spent his evening helping me look for you," Cruz explained.
Storm rolled his eyes. "You mean you blackmailed him to look for me," he corrected. It was no secret that McQueen hated his gears. The feeling was neutral.
Cruz cringed. "I might have guilted him a little…" she admitted with a nervous chuckle.
"And why are you fidgeting?" Storm demanded.
The yellow coupe jerked. "Oh! Um, nothing!" Cruz replied quickly. "Uh, ignore me!"
"I'll do just that," Storm agreed. He was too tired to care at this point. That, and his head was still killing him.
Sally had her back to them, doing some paperwork behind the desk when the trio rolled in. The doorway chimed, alerting her to their presence. "Good evening!" Sally recited pleasantly. "Welcome to The Cozy Cone, home of-"
"Hey, Sal, it's just us," Lightning told her. "We finally found the wayward car."
"Oh?" her tone brightened. Sally turned around to face them. "You mean he hadn't run away?"
"The idea was tempting," Storm admitted.
She giggled. "Well, I for one am glad you decided to stay the night. So, do you need to reserve a room, Mr. Storm?"
Storm drove forward. "Yeah. Charge it to me with this," he was about to eject a credit card from a compartment in his grill when Sally stopped him.
"No charge. I'll be putting you in your own Cozy Cone for however long you're here."
Storm blinked. Why was she being so nice to him? "…Thanks, Mrs. McQueen."
Sally slid him a barcode key. "Cone number 1," she flashed him a kind smile. She drove from around the counter and headed towards the back. "Let me go get a few necessities and then I'll show you to your room. Stickers, come with me, I need you to haul them."
"Ughhh, Sally! Haven't I done enough today?" Lightning whined as he dutifully followed her. "If I do anymore for this guy, he might start calling me Uncle McQueen!"
The couple left, leaving Storm alone with Cruz at the reception desk. They waited idly, not saying a word for the first two minutes. The gentle humming of their engines was the only sound heard in the room until Cruz spoke up. "So… do you… um… you like her?" she asked suddenly.
Storm was almost afraid to ask. "In what way…?"
"You know… ahem! Like you like-like her," she explained bashfully.
"What?" Storm's eye twitched. "No! Why would you even think that?"
Cruz ducked her head. "I'm… curious…?"
Storm shook his head. "If the fact that she is married isn't enough, then how about her being a decade older than me. Will that suffice?"
"Oh… I guess when you put it that way… that was a silly question," she seemed strangely relieved for some reason, Storm didn't know why. "But then…" she appeared confused. "…why were you staring after her so hard?"
Storm sighed. It was a good thing McQueen was distracted or else he would have jumped to the same conclusions. "I can't figure her out..." he confessed.
"Huh?"
Storm sighed again. Cruz Ramirez was indeed too simple. "I'm trying to understand why she is being so nice to me," he explained.
"Oh, that's because she's Sally!" Cruz replied as if that explained everything. "She's really nice to everyone!"
"No one is that nice," Storm huffed. "Maybe she's like that because she wants to be perceived as nice."
Cruz looked troubled for a moment. "Storm, level with me for sec..."
"What?"
"Why do you feel that everyone has an alternative motive?"
Oh, if she only knew…
"Because they do-" Storm broke off into a yawn. He couldn't help it. It really has been a long day. "…nobody does something for nothing. Not even your supposed loved ones."
"…supposed?"
Storm cringed. How did he let that slip? "Nothing!" he bites out. "You get my point!"
"No," Cruz replies calmly. "I don't."
"Goodnight, Ramirez."
Storm turned away and rode out the door, determined to wait outside if it meant a moment of peace, but the yellow coupe didn't take a hint as she followed behind.
"Jackson," she stated firmly. "I'm waiting for an explanation!"
Storm had only been around her a short time, but he noticed whenever Cruz used his first name, it meant business. "If I tell you, will you leave me alone for the night?" he compromised.
Cruz nodded. "Deal."
"When I was a carriage car, I was adopted by Maximo and Cherilyn Magnum," he chuckled bitterly when saw Cruz's face brightening. "Oh no, it's not what you think... they didn't adopt me because they wanted a son to love. They wanted me because I was an investment."
"…how exactly?"
"All the other kids had 4-cylinder engines, but me? I had a V-8 engine with 850 horsepower. They could use that, and they did."
"H-"
"No," Storm interrupted her. "No more questions. A deal is a deal."
Cruz buttoned up, but she had that glint in her eye. As soon as she gets another chance, the subject was coming up.
'Ha, ha not on your life, Ramirez.'
"Goodnight, Storm. See you in the morning." She drove past him.
Storm could play the sympathy card to his advantage, but some things were not worth exploiting. That included his past.
"I've told ya, you gotta know 'ere ya been as you roll backwards!"
Much to Storm's dismay, Mater has been true to his word as he stuck to him like a magnet trying to tutor him for the past three days. Days filled with pain and even more mishaps that lead to expensive trips to the town doc.
"And I've told you, I got it down pact!" Strom retorted, very well about to lose every last suckle of patience he had.
Once again, they were training again in the Copperfields, but in separate groups. Cruz and Lightning were working on their own session while Storm struggled to master the basics with the tow truck rattling in his ear.
"Well, well, weeeeelllll!" Mater taunted him. "If ya so darn confident den race 'gainst me!"
"Love to, bring it on tow truck!"
The backed up to the starting line and took off on the count of three. Mater was in first place as usual, but on somehow midway through the lap Storm got the lead by cutting a tight corner.
"Well Dadgum! You're gettin' better already!" Mater praised him. "But I'm 'till beatin' ya!" he easily used a ramp to air jump ahead of Storm, quickly recapture the lead.
"Trust me, I won't be out of first place for long!" Storm gritted his teeth as he accelerated his pace.
The tow truck frowned, slowing down a notch so they were side by side as they continued to reverse. "Come on, lil buddy, it's not always 'bout winnin'!" he insisted.
Maybe it was the stress that caused him to snap or maybe it was the pain. It didn't matter what pushed him over. There was a limit to how much comradery Storm could pretend in a day. "WINNING IS EVERYTHING!" he bellowed. "What does a retarded hillbilly like you know anything about that? Huh?! I bet don't even know where your hood is, do you? Idiot!"
Mater's whole frame drooped with his cable tail hanging low. Giving him the appearance of a wrongfully kicked puppy. "Yer right…" he admitted softly.
Storm almost felt guilty for yelling at Mater, but he buried his guilt. "About what?" he spat.
"Bout it all… I dun know much 'bout winning... and uh, I dunno where ma hood is…Oh, hey! Watch out for da-"
"OOOWW!" Storm cried as he backed into something hard and immovable. Darn it! At this rate he will be making Ramone a millionaire before this was all over! Just what did he back into this time?
He heard something creaking overhead. Storm glanced up. He found himself bumper to bumper with the Dolly Lolly Windmill. Only to see it waver and then slowly recede backward until it tumbled to the ground with a deafening crash. It's ugly fans in the air, seemingly unaffected by the fall.
But that didn't matter, the glaring fact was this: The town's raggedy landmark is down because of him and the tow truck, he just insulted, saw everything!
Storm swallowed slowly. "L-Listen, I-"
"Just what happened?!" McQueen came gunning over the dune.
Ugh. He is going to be yesterday's rubber by the time McQueen is done with him.
"Is everyone, okay?" Cruz asked worriedly.
Lightning took one look at the downed windmill before shouting, "Storm!" He turned an accusing eye on the dark racer automatically. "What did you-"
"It's alright, Buddy!" Mater spoke up. "I did it," he announced to the shock of the three race cars.
Lightning stopped, turning to his longtime best friend. "You, Mater?"
"I was tryin' to show off a trick ta Storm when it backfired on me and ol' Dolly Came tumbling' down…"
"But you… are you alright?" Lightning asked with growing concern.
"I'mma fine," Mater replied dismissively. "Now you run along. I'll clean it up in a jiffy!"
"But, Mater, are you sure?"
"Yessire! My mess, my clean up!"
"Really, we don't mind helping you Mater," Cruz insisted this time.
"Dun worry I got it!" he shooed them off. "Ya gotta teach!" he told Lightning. "And ya gotta train!" he said to Cruz.
"Alright… we'll come back later if you still need help," Lightning offered. "C'mon, Cruz."
His trainee reluctantly followed. "Be careful, Mater… and Storm, don't overdo it."
Once they were alone again, Storm slowly approached Mater. "Hey tow…" he caught himself. The least he could do was use the guy's name. "…Mater."
"Yeah?"
"Why did you stick up for me like that?"
Mater appeared confused by the question. "Why not? Shoot! Da's wha friends do!"
Storm blinked. "… you consider me your friend?" he asked slowly, thinking he had misheard.
"Yea!" Mater's face instantly brightened. "If Cruz likes ya then da's good nuff fer me!"
"Huh…" Storm really was speechless for once. Why were these country bumpkins so nice to him? First Cruz then Mrs. McQueen and now Mater. Storm wondered if he will ever begin to understand any of these cars. "But even after all the…" Storm trailed. Mean. "…things I said?"
"Trainin'' is tuff," Mater replied sympathetically. "I understand if ya get frustrated and had ta blow off some steam."
"No, that's no excuse," Storm said before his brain could catch up with his mouth. "…I mean… I shouldn't have said those things to you, Mater, even if I was angry."
"Awww shucks," Mater grinned brightly. "Doncha worry 'bout it, alright? It's all oil under the fields now!" He rode over to examine the downed landmark. Was he really was going to fix someone's mess all by himself? Storm wondered. "Get back to trainin' now, ya hear? I'mma test ya later!" he called over his shoulder.
Storm turned to leave, but then something scraped at him. Was that his conscience? Wow, he didn't even know it existed until now. Storm sighed, once he realized he couldn't leave.
"Here…" Storm went behind the windmill. "I'll push, you pull. Got it?"
Mater perked up instantly. "Well dadgum! Right on lil' buddy!"
It took thirty minutes and at some points, Storm thought he would be crushed underneath the weight of the Lolly Dolly, but Mater proved to be stronger than he looked. Soon enough the ugly windmill was back in place and swinging around in the faint breeze.
"Man, do I gotta reward fer ya!" Mater hooted. "I'mma takin' you tracker tippin' tonight!"
Storm blinked. "...what is tracker tipping? Is that another training tactic?"
"Naw, it's fer fun! Ya will like it!" He promised.
But Storm should have known all promises were meant to be broken.
Hours later…
Storm was fuming. What was he thinking going with the tow truck? The fool almost got him killed by a pissed off oversized Metroactual Combine! Seriously, what did that thing eat to get that big?!
"C'mon, admit it! Ya had fun!" Mater bopped Storm's side.
The dark racer sent him a disgruntled look. "Running for my life is never fun," Storm scoffed. "If the highlight of your night is getting trackers to toot-" Mater snickered gleefully. "-then I'm never going out with you ever again!"
Instead of remaining on the route heading back into town, Storm turned off to the left.
"Where ya going?" Mater wondered.
"Back to the Copperfields. There's a light there thanks to the lamp fixtures."
"But ya practiced all afternoon today! Doncha think ya need a rest?"
"I'll rest when my battery's dead!" Storm retorted. "I need to master this!" he determined. "I cannot move on until I do."
Like the levels Ray used to set for him. He couldn't move on to the next course on the simulator until he mastered the basics. It was bred in him from the start of his rookie career and now that's how Storm rolled in life on and off the track. He only had two weeks to master Cruz's wacky techniques and every moment counted.
Suddenly a large beam of light appeared behind them.
"IT'S FRANK! HE'S LOOSE!" Mater yelped. He gunned his engines, leaving behind a trail of smoke. "RUUUNN!"
Storm squinted his eyes. No, it couldn't be the bull. While being large in size as Frank, the vehicle was too narrow. It looked to be a semi-truck. Could it be Cruz's hauler? What was his name? Oh, Mack. That's right. "Hey, Mack!" he called out. "You're blinding me! Kill the brights!"
Instead of baby blue paint, there was only darkness. The semi rode forward. Her black paint helped her to blend easily into the cover of night. "Finally, I've found you, Storm," she commented.
"Gale…it's you," Storm drove forward to greet his hauler. "How did you find me?"
"GPS, sir."
Storm was instantly creeped out by her answer. He was aware his stats were being recorded at all times, but to be tracked like a pet dog without his knowledge or permission, angered him. Slate… That control freak of a CEO. Only the manufacturer only knew what else was installed under his hood.
"I am under direct orders from Mr. Slate to bring you to the Los Angeles INTGR research facility for training," Gale informed him. "Can you leave tonight?"
"No, I'm staying in Radiator Springs for now."
"You know our boss doesn't like to be kept waiting, Storm," Gale warned him.
Storm rolled his eyes. "Slate can throw his usual tantrum for all I care."
Gale raised a shadebrow at his nonchalant attitude. "That's fine indeed if his ire is not directed at you."
"Will you relax, Gale? I't'll be fine!" Storm insisted. "I only plan to be here a short while, okay?"
"For how long?"
"A week. Maybe two."
"That won't work," Gale replied without hesitation. "I think we may have a grace period of three days tops. And that includes our drive time."
His hauler had a soft spot for him, but it didn't outweigh her judgment. So Strom compromised, "How about this, Gale, I'll do some practice on the simulator while I am here and all my practice data on it will be automatically submitted to the lab. That should pacify him for a couple of extra days. Give me a week, alright?"
Seeing her rider wasn't going to budge, Gale relented. "…Alright," just make sure to practice, okay? Climb aboard, while I head into town for the night."
"Alright."
Once inside, Storm finally logged into the machine. He completed three courses before calling it quits. The stimulator just didn't feel real anymore. Not since he hit the dirt. He needed a wash every night, but it was worth it. He turned off the machine and backed out of the wheel brackets.
"You're done, already, Storm?" Gale seemed surprised by his odd behavior.
"For tonight, I am," he hit the latch pad, but the door did not open. Storm sighed, "What is it, Gale? Want me to do another course?"
"No, that's not it. Storm if I may ask, what are you doing out here?"
"It's all part of the plan, Gale"
"...a plan...?"
"For me to take down Ramirez. She and her crew chief are idiots for letting me come along. I'm learning all her tricks to get my winning streak back once and for all."
Gale said nothing for a while, before letting out a sigh. "That's a pity hear…" she lamented.
"Why?"
"I thought you finally made a friend, but it's just another one of your schemes..." She shook her head. "Where does it end?"
"When I am on top."
"But what good is the top when you're all alone?"
"So, what?" Storm demanded. "I've always been alone."
"Oh, so I'm not here either?" she demanded a bit frostily.
"Gale, you're taking it out of context!" Storm tried to smooth things over, but his hauler wasn't having it.
"Out of the mouth speaks the heart," she recited.
"So poetic," Storm sneered. "Are you taking philosophy?"
Gale dropped the subject. She knew him better than anyone else at INTGR. Once Storm turns snarky with his replies, the less he is acceptable to reason. So instead she lowered the door of his trailer.
"Good luck with your training, Mr. Storm. One week from tonight, we're gone."