A low honking noise alerted the McQueen family to Mack's arrival. The large red haulier slowed to a standstill. "Hey, Boss! And Sally! You guys look great. Married life suits you, Lightning,"

Lightning grinned. "Thanks, Mack. Did you get the message I sent the other day?"

"About the new kid and his doctor? Sure did; you, Sally, and Little Hud get in the back. And the Doc will have to follow behind till we get to Virginia Speedway,"

Lucky huffed. "Please, don't call me Doc; I prefer Doctor,"

Lightning smiled and rolled his eyes. "Well, at least we know how to differentiate her from Doc,"

Sally rolled up to Mack and showed him, Baby Hudson. "Huddy, this is your Daddy's good friend Mack. Mack, meet Hudson McQueen,"

Mack chuckled. "Well, he's a handsome little tyke," the haulier straightened up. "Get in the back, McQueen family. We've got places to be," the ramp dropped, and Sally and Lightning rolled in. Mack then addressed the other three as he closed his trailer. "You'd better keep close behind. If needed, I'll tow you,"

Doctor Lucky nodded as she jumpstarted her engine. On her tailboard sat a toolkit. "That shall be likely, followed on,"

With another honk, Mack pulled away. Lucky closely tailing his trailer.

Seven hours of journeying later, Mack dropped Lightning off at Virginia Speedway; while they were there, Lightning managed to introduce Little Hudson to Cruz and Cal.

Strip Weather, the King, turned up to have a look. The Dinoco seven-times champion had stepped down as a crew chief when Lightning became Cruz's and instead became a race official. The Plymouth explained, "I ain't letting another Chick get away with wrecking racer like he did me, Chuck, Haul, Ruby, and Lee."

After giving Sally and Baby Hud a farewell kiss, Strip escorted Lightning to the Dinoco stand so the painter could get McQueen into his Doc Hudson Tribute colours.

Lucky joined Sally in the trailer, so she could begin examining Baby Hud while on the way to Radiator Springs.

This time the journey took a week.

Mack pulled into Radiator Springs with a crowd of cars waiting. The regular residents and some of the regular tourists.

The ramp lowered, and Lucky rolled out backwards first. She glanced around the town. "Well, this is an improvement on Bigg City," she breathed deeply. "The mountain air should do wonders for my burners. Now then, I'm feeling a little parched,"

Flo smiled. "Then come right with me, miss. After we've met the new youngster, of course,"

Sally emerged from Mack's trailer. Baby Hudson slumbered on her front bonnet. "Don't disturb him," she cautioned. "I only just got him to sleep,"

Mia and Tia held wheels to each other's mouths to muffle their squeals; next to them, Red, the fire engine, started blubbering.

Lizzie trundled up and cooed. "Well, isn't he just darling?" she glanced at the statute outside the Courthouse and Fire Department building. "Stanley would have given his gold tooth to be here. A steamer back in Radiator Springs," she looked back to Little Hudson. "I never thought I'd see the day,"

"Naha!" a loud howler called from eastward.

Sally grinned. "Here comes Mater. Everyone had better brace themselves."

Mater came barrelling up the main street, and he towed someone behind him, who was complaining about the tugging.

Sheriff yelled, "Mater! No speeding!"

Mater ignored this and stopped in front of Sally, his hook and pull swung, sending the boxy blue four-door car swerving into Ramone's House of Body Art.

Lucky glanced at Sarge. "Who was that?"

"Otis local resident," the jeep explained. "Moved here following McQueen. He was called Fred but had a major rebuild and restoration job, from being a Stodgy to a Shyster, so he changed his name." Sarge shook his head. "It must have been a cheap job since it didn't change how he's a lemon. Otis can't work, is counted as disabled, and lives off welfare benefits. Breaks down almost once a week as he tries to reach the county line. While I commend his determination, that civilian should stop before he falls apart,"

Ramone nodded. "Yeah, I've done my best to keep him going, but my customisation skills can only go so far,"

Lucky looked at Ramone's shop. "I'd better go look at him. A case like this needs proper medical experts. And maybe I can get Mr Otis in workable condition,"

Ramone grinned. "Sure, just don't touch any of my paint equipment,"

"Of course, Mr Ramone,"

Mater meanwhile wriggled with glee at Baby Hudson. "He's cuter than a Frogeye Sprite! We're going to have fun just like his pops and me!"

Baby Hudson stirred and opened his eyes at Mater.

"Morning, Sleeping Cutey!" he laughed. "That's funny right there!"

Little Hudson started crying, and his steam whistle blew.

Everyone around him winced.

Mater frowned. "Was it something I said?"

Sally rocked and shushed Hudson. "It's okay, Huddy. You're Uncle Mater is just very excited to meet you,"

"Uncle Mater?" the tow truck drawled. "I like the sound of that,"

Ramone came alongside Sally. "The kid's going to need his primer coat,"

"Right," Sally said, and they went into Ramone's shop.

Inside, Otis sat on the car lift, with Lucky looking at his undercarriage, still wearing her hat and seemingly unable to see. Her rear wheel reached her toolbox, and she took out a wretch, put it on the floor and pushed it up for her front wheel to grab.

Up top, Otis called down, "It's very nice of you to help a car like me,"

Lucky smiled. "It's all a part of the job, Mr Otis. Speaking of jobs, what occupation would you take if we manage to make you a more capable machine?"

Otis blinked. "Yeah, my benefits would be removed. Um,"

Sally dropped Hudson into a paint booth. "Look at Mommy, Huddy, everything's going to be okay,"

Ramone readied his equipment. "Hey, Otis. How far did you get this time?"

Otis smiled. "I beat my record halfway to the county line by three-quarters of the mile!"

"Hey! You're improving, man!" he placed a pot of primer into his sprayer and took hold of the nozzle. "As for something to do, we still got a few buildings on the main street waiting for new businesses," Ramone tested the spray against a wall. He then glanced at Sally and Lucky. "We picked out which buildings are going be made into the new clinic,"

Sally smiled. "Which ones?"

"We're basically turning the whole northwest quarter into the new clinic. We'll make Lube O Rama in the waiting room. Pop N Patch Tire Repair shop, Mrs Piston and Carburettor Emporium Repair converted into the office and surgery area. And making Mrs Muffler and Muddy's Mudflaps into the living quarters gives Doc Lucky a cosy place to call her own,"

Lucky hummed. "To have a waiting room, I shall require a nurse for the desk,"

Sally nodded. "I'll see about getting a job advert made. And in future, Ramone, Doctor Lane prefers to be called doctor, not Doc,"

"Gotcha," he turned to Baby Hudson. "Can you hold him down as a put some covers on his wheels?"

"Sure," Sally replied before approaching and gently putting her bumper on Hudson's roof. "It'll be all right, Hud. Ramone just needs you to stay still."

Ramone slipped the covers over Hudson's wheels, struggling at times when the baby steam car wiggled and grunted. The lowrider glanced back to Otis. "You've got the northeast and the whole south side to pick from if you want to start your own business. The Oil Pan, Wimpey's Wipers, Eat, Foggy Windshield. We ain't letting Sparky's Spark Plugs back in town since they sponsored Chick Hicks. There's Mr Curb Feeler and Rusty Bumper,"

Otis gasped with a smile. "I got it! I could turn the Rusty Bumper into a Rust-Eze shop!"

Ramone smiled. "Awesome idea, man!" then glanced to Sally as he picked up the spray again. "Why didn't anybody think of that in the last ten years?"

Lucky spoke up as she pressed the button to lower the lift. "Maybe it's because you don't have a car that needed Rust-Eze. Yes, Mr Mater is covered in rust, but he seems content with it,"

Otis nodded as Lucky lifted the lemon's hood. "Yeah, I owe a lot to Rust-Eze. The second time my bumper came off told me I needed to clean up. Two and a half years later, I was clean enough and could afford a rebuild. I should do what I can for them,"

Sally sighed. "Luckily, you didn't get the idea while Sterling owned Rust-Eze," she said. "Given his attitude, and let's face it, obsession with brand perfection, he would've driven Rust-Eze into the ground,"

Ramone readied the spray. "Okay, Sally,"

"Right," the Porsche looked at Baby Hudson. "Let's play a game, Hudson," the baby steam car perked up. "Close your eyes and hold your breath as long as you can. Like this," she did so, and Little Hudson followed.

Ramone took the opportunity and sprayed the primer over the child's front side of his hood.

"And breath," Sally said, exhaling, and Hudson followed. Ramone continued with his sides and back. "Now, let's let it dry,"

Meanwhile, Lucky looked over Otis's engine, and her lips curled downwards, and they gave each other glances. The old steamer took out what looked like an artist's easel with a load of levers and gears, with ended with an unusual typewriter arrangement using a wheel to control a pedal stylus. She began chuckling out notes. "Valves misaligned, not suited for unleaded gasoline, the gasket needs replacing. You have a myriad of issues, Mr Otis,"

"I know I'm a lemon, doctor. I think I'll just stay in town from now on,"

"Don't give up hope," Lucky said. "We'll do our best to get you in tiptop condition,"

"How much would it cost?"

"Cost?" Lucky asked. "Since you're counted as disabled, it should be free. How much were you charged for that slap-dash job of a rebuild?"

Otis blinked. "Slap-dash job?"

Lucky grimaced. "Whoever rebuilt you did not do a good job. Of all the cars you could be rebuilt into, why a Shyster? The company went under two before McQueen's first season,"

"The guy said the 1972 Shyster Gremlin was the closest car design he could do to my original Stodgy build,"

"Only because Shyster copied Stodgy," Lucky countered. "However, trademarks meant they had to make changes, which worsened the design. Like the Lada company taking the Fait 124 and modifying it until it became the ultimate lemon, the Riva. Staying as a Stodgy would have been a better choice,"

Otis's face fell. "I put my life on the line, only to get ripped off and made into a worse state than when I was a rust bucket!" his lips screwed, and his eyes shut tightly.

Lucky touched a wheel to the patient. "Please calm down, Mr Otis, your oil pressure's raising dangerously quick,"

The lemon car began jumping, and Herbie weighed down his front. "Floyd Saint Ogden! If I ever find you, you'll wish you were a junkyard heap when through," as he rattled the ramp trim like his bump, fender, and grill started shaking off.

Ramone glanced at Sally. "I think you'd better take the little dude out of here," the lowrider rode up to Otis. "Hey, Otis, man! Stop pounding my elevator, dude!"

Lucky hummed. "Floyd Saint Ogden. FSO?" she pulled Otis off the ramp. "Be calm, Mr Otis; you're not the first to be coned by FSO,"

Otis coughed. "I'm not?"

"No, FSO was a gang of jalopies who used confidence tricks, like a bait-and-switch and Miracle Cars scheme. They hooked unsuspecting lemons into substandard repair and rebuilds, often cut-and-shut jobs. FSO isn't even the gang's name; they don't have one. It was just that many members used false names with the initials FSO."

Otis grumbled. "Can I still get myself repaired?"

"Yes, but it makes things harder. Strictly speaking, you'd be entitled to go to another garage to have the faults put right and then claim the cost from the original repairer. In such a case, it would be essential to notify the garage of your intentions in writing and get several quotes along with expert evidence to support your claim. However, as FSO was a con, and members who weren't caught and impounded are underground, it shall be difficult,"

Sally rolled up. "I'm a lawyer, the town attorney; since Otis is a citizen of Radiator Springs, I should be able to bring a case for him."

Ramone spoke, "Okay, but can you do that somewhere else? I got my lifter to look at," he scowled at Giselle. "If your bedside manner's going to cause hissy fits, I ain't letting you us my shop,"

The doctor nodded. "Forgive me, Mr Ramone. I tend to go on a tangent without considering the situation," she cleared her throat. "Now, I'm still rather thirsty," she glanced at Otis. "I shall continue this examination after I've partaken some oil," she then glanced to Sally. "May I ask where we shall be accommodated whilst the clinic is being built?"

Sally nodded. "Since it's the off-season for cars coming to town, I've got several vacancies in the Cosy Cone. Doctor Lane, you can stay in Cone Number One,"

Lucky nodded. "That is acceptable,"

Ramone spoke, "Sal, you can move Little Hud now; the premier should be dry enough. And it's getting a little crowded in here,"

"Thanks, Ramone," Sally said as she approached Baby Hud and nudged him onto her hood. "Come on, Hud. Let's take you to Flo's; I bet by now she's got a can of baby oil formula waiting for you,"

Lucky cleared her throat. "I talked with Miss Flo about Master Hudson's specific requirements as a steam car. He will require oil for lubrication and can use gasoline for his steam generator burners. I'd prefer to review the more technical details when Mr McQueen is back in town. However, I can divulge the potential challenges with raising a steam car to adulthood,"

"Please," Sally replied as they slowly exited the paint shop.

"Well, first," Lucky began. "As you witnessed, he can be extremely loud,"

Before she could say more, Luigi appeared and looked at the Grand Prix winner's wheels. "Solid tyres," he noted. "That might be a problem," he looked at the doctor's face. "Guido and I don't have solid tyres in stock. Would you rather we custom order some, or could you get fitted for pneumatic ones?"

Paragon glanced at her open wheels. "Getting pneumatic tyres would doubtlessly mean replacing my cartwheels,"

Luigi gasped. "They are wooden?"

"You are looking at a car built in the 1900s," the steamer car turned back to Sally. "It would seem Master Hudson isn't the only vehicle here with potential issues," Lucky then gave Luigi another glance. "As for my wheels and tyres, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it," she and Sally rolled over to Flo's, and the doctor continued the discussion.

Luigi gasped. "How could I forget? Guido! We have baby tires on the back, and maybe some will fit Piccolo Hudson just right."

Guido chimed up, "Pitstop?"

"Yes, Guido. Pitstop, but for baby."

"Bene!"

"Here ya go, little baby," Flo said as the two entered the café. "It's on the house," she presented a unique baby oil formula at lunch and gave it to Little Hudson, who eagerly accepted it. Everybody was at the café, cooing at the baby. At first, the baby was a crying machine but warmed up quickly when Mater reappeared. Sally lowered him onto the ground, where he drank his baby oil.

Fillmore watched the baby steamer. "He's got that wonderful innocent aura all young children have,"

Sarge huffed. "It'll be my duty to toughen him up so he can be ready for the world,"

"Make peace, not war, man," Fillmore replied.

"If you want peace," Sarge countered. "Prepare for war,"

"War is over if you want it," Fillmore replied. "It's the people who profit from violence who advocate it,"

"I've never advocated for war, Fillmore,"

Sally asked Flo for something substantial to keep herself awake. "Huddy cried a lot in Mack's trailer,"

Lucky nodded. "Typical with young children. The moving sensation, the rapid landscape movement, and the noise alienate them. Then they see the adults, the people they look up to, not giving a hoot. It scares the child as they think something is wrong, either with themselves or the world around them, so they cry out to get attention,"

Meanwhile, Lizzy kept commenting that she once saw a car resembling the baby. Everyone else kept cooing, almost forgetting their lunch.

"Oh, can ah babysit, Sally?" Mater asked.

"Not even in your dreams, Mater," Sally answered tiredly.

"What about when he's older?"

"No."

"Aww. Can ah at least play with him?"

"Maybe."

Lucky interrupted. "Mrs McQueen has told me about some of the play you get up to, Mr Mater," she scowled. "And as Hudson McQueen's doctor, I am strictly banning him for those forms of shenanigans,"

"What?" Mater blurted. "Why not?"

"Because Master Hudson is a sensitive case. The most advanced steam car I have ever seen, a precision-engineered instrument of speed, toque, and aerodynamic,"

Mater grinned. "Lightning said the same thing when fixing the road with Old Bessie. A course that was back when he was a hotshot rookie who was a one-man show. Before I helped make him the role model, he is today,"

"Getting back to what I was saying," Lucky continued. "Master Hudson shall have issues not found in an internal combustion engine. When he is running fine, his driving will be unbelievable. When not, his faults will be unbelievable, Chrysler! Water hammering, for one thing, the water's not a lubricant. I could rant about the troubles with steam cars for days!"

Sally looked down at Little Hudson. "How much trouble are you going to be in?"

Lucky replied. "To start with, he's going to grow up very fast. With our combined expertise, Master Hudson should be a full adult car in three years, give or take three to five months,"

"Three years?" Sally blinked. "I thought steam cars would take longer. That's almost as fast as it took me to grow up,"

Lizzie suddenly interjected, "And that's faster than it took me. I was built in 1923 and reached adulthood in twenty-seven,"

Sally readdressed Lucky. "I'd better call Lightning tonight to tell him about this,"

"Weekly calls with Mr McQueen would be advisable. As for the rapid growth rate, I did say with our expertise, Mrs McQueen," Lucky said. "Had Master Hudson been left to his own devices, I'm not even sure he would reach adulthood. Tell me, how long did it take Mr McQueen from initial assembly to become a racer?"

"Well, Lightning's never told me when he was built. But he said it wasn't long between being built to racing in the Piston Cup."

Lucky nodded. "And that's common with race cars,"

Sally blinked. "Wait, race car?" she glanced at the baby steam car. "You're saying Little Hudson might be a racer when he grows up?"

"Most likely, yes," Doctor Lane replied. "And I know from personal experience, racer cars can be a boot load of trouble,"

Almost immediately after Lightning exited the trailer, Doctor Lane brought him to meet Sally and Little Hudson at the new clinic. McQueen didn't even have time to go to Ramone's and change paint jobs.

The facility was set up much like Doc Hudson's clinic and the Rust-Eze Training Centre, with up-to-date equipment. All spacious and well laid out. One significant difference was the reception and waiting room, which Lightning liked since it meant he could avoid situations like when he barged in on Sheriff's examination.

In the waiting room, Lucky set up a presentation. "Now that you're here, Mr McQueen, I can inform you and Mrs McQueen what I discovered about Master Hudson,"

"Where is Little Hud, anyway?"

Lucky scowled at the door. "I told Mrs McQueen to bring him here before you arrived,"

Lightning raised an eyebrow. "Did they go somewhere?"

The doors opened, and Sally rushed in with what looked like a four-year-old in grey premier running around him. The kid stopped when he saw Lightning and cheered. "Daddy!" the steam car yelled in a Mid-Atlantic accent. "You're here at last!" he started running rings around Lightning before stopping in front of the seven-times champion and bouncing on his tyre. "I'm a fast? I bet I am!"

Lightning smiled and rubbed Little Hud's roof. "That was some great manoeuvres, Hud. You're growing fast, that's for sure; when I last saw you in person, you were still wrapped in your blanket,"

"Blankie's being washed," Hudson replied.

"Sorry, Lucky. Little Hud kept wanting to crack the fourth turn of the dirt track, and we lost track of time,"

Lightning blinked and looked down at Little Hudson. "You're trying to conquer Wille's Butte?"

Hud tilted slightly. "Everyone told me it's the best track for racing,"

Lightning smiled and nodded. "It sure is, but you could have waited for me to return. I can teach you how to make the last turn,"

Hud smiled and started bouncing. "Right away!"

"Save the driving lessons for later, Mr McQueen," Doctor Lane said. "I need to tell you about Master Hudson's specification and possibly his lineage,"

"Really?"

"Indeed," Lucky answered. "I could not find a builder's mark or plate, so I cannot determine where he was constructed. But by carefully examining his design, the boy has quite a prestigious heritage. His engine and steam generator are like a modernised Doble; they were the finest steam cars." Lane pressed a button, and a slide showed a group of smartly presented dumb headlight cars in the 1920s. "This is only an educated guess," Lane added. "If Master Hudson had a water and gas filler cap with thirteen screws, which would have been the clincher, a tell-tale sign of his Doble ancestry,"

The presentation changed to an x-ray with a complex array of internal workings. "They were complex but highly engineered. Most steam cars like the late Stanley have boilers, requiring thirty minutes to heat up before the individual is ready to move."

Sally nodded. "Not Hudson, though," she glanced at the little steam car occupying himself in the children's corner. "He seems ready as soon as you say go,"

"You're correct, Mrs McQueen. The Doble range did not have boilers but steam generators allowing them to be ready in as little as thirty seconds. One family member was under contract with Howard Hughes and supposedly reached a hundred and thirty-three miles an hour in 1925,"

"Okay," Lightning said. "That is impressive for the time. Why haven't I heard of them?"

"All branches of the Doble family went underground in 1931 when their family business shut down. But a few relatives have appeared throughout the years," another slide showed a fifties car, similar in shape to Doc Hudson. "This is Phoenix Paxton, a rear-mounted steam engine coupe; he was of Doble design in 1953 but disappeared the next year when Paxton Engineering went into liquidation,"

Lightning glanced at Little Hudson and noticed some superficial similarities. "Right, I can see that. But what makes you think he's going to be a racer?"

"Beyond the torque, Master Hudson processes innovations that the Next-Gen don't, not even Storm," another slide came up. It showed one of the boy's wheels without a hub, which sported a sizeable single nut.

"Formula One style centre locking lug nuts,"

Sally nodded. "Guido nearly fainted when he took Huddy's hubcaps off. He needed the special drill he used for Francesco. We've still got to test how fast Guido could change Hud's tires,"

Paragon brought up another slide, showing an x-ray of Hudson's suspension. "Then there's his independent rear suspension. Allowing for improved stability and better ground clearance,"

The following slide showed Little Hudson in the Rust-Eze Training Centre wind tunnel. "He has the aerodynamic improvements of the Next-Gens, even though he's likely to have a 30s-style body with pronounced fenders. He'll be as streamlined as an aeroplane. He also has carbon-fibre composite materials, meaning he has less weight for that power to struggle against. The Doble family had a troublesome weight issue; some were over five-thousand pounds. Master Hudson should be at somewhere around three and a half thousand,"

Next came a slide showing an extremely low, rectangular-shaped car with open wheels like a Formula One racer. This car wore a leather flying helmet and the number twenty-three on its winged nose and sides. "This is Lear Vapor-Dyne. He was supposed to enter the 1970 Indianapolis Memorial Day automotive race. He never did due to issues with the head engineer. I don't know what his steam turbine could produce; however, another record supposedly says he would have had a rotary valve engine producing six-hundred horsepower,"

"Speaking of power, what did you mean by the torque Hudson could make?" Lightning asked. "How powerful is he?"

"At present," Lucky said. "He's only working at six-hundred and fifty pounds per square inch, and that's more than enough at his age and about the same as a Lizzie says Stanley could produce. And he's producing just under eight-eight horsepower at his current cylinder area and bore stroke."

"Eighty-eight?" Lightning repeated jaw dropped, and eyebrow raised. "At his age?"

"Ah," Lucky replied, raising a wheel. "Shows the power of steam, Mr McQueen," the next slide showed an x-ray of four cylinders, rotary camshafts, turbine fans, and poppet values. "His underfloor rear mid-mounted four-cylinder compound rear-wheel drive engine has four times the number of power strokes as an internal combustion engine. Each cylinder stroke is power, meaning he has the equivalent of a V16 engine,"

"V16?" Lightning exclaimed.

"Yes, and he can run at a lower rpm with his direct one-to-one geared drive. Master Hudson is already making over five hundred and twelve foot-pounds of torque,"

"That's more than I do!" Lightning shrieked.

"Daddy?" Hudson called from the children's corner. "Why are you shouting?"

Lightning cleared his throat. "Um, nothing. Doctor Lane just gave me some news that's surprised me,"

Lucky nodded. "And I expect Master Hudson will double in size when he reaches adulthood in a few years. And that includes his cylinder size,"

"How powerful will he be?"

"If my calculations are correct," Lucky replied. "Master Hudson, when fully grown, shall have roughly five hundred thirty horsepower and make around one and a half thousand foot-pounds of torque. Even from a standstill just after starting up, he should be able to make a thousand foot-pounds,"

Sally blinked. "Can that be allowed for racing? Are we even sure a steam car can be allowed in something like the Piston Cup?"

"Well," Lightning mused. "I could call the King privately since he's a Piston Cup official now. I could ask his perspective; he knows Hud is a steam car," he glanced to Paragon. "Is there anything else you need to show us?"

"Nothing important," the vintage racer replied.

"Okay," Lightning said, rolling over towards Little Hudson. "Come on, Hud,"

"Where are we going?" Little Hudson asked, standing up on his four wheels.

"First, I want to change my paint scheme at Ramone's. Then we'll go to the dirt track, and I get to teach you the trick to that final corner,"

Hudson began bouncing as they drove off. "Can you tell me now? Tell me now!"

"Well, as your namesake told me," Lightning began. "Dirt is different to asphalt. You've got to pitch it hard, break it loose, and drive with the throttle,"

"Regulator," Doctor Lane called from the clinic door. "Steam-powered vehicles have a regulator instead an accelerator,"

"Right," Lightning called back. "Drive it with your regulator. But give it too much, you'll get out of the dirt and into the tulips," Lightning winced. "Or cacti in the case of this track. Trust me, I know,"

"Drive what, Daddy? What's this it?"

"Can't really say, Hud. It'll come to you," Lightning said. "Simply put, when on dirt, turn left to go right,"

Hudson blinked. "Are you okay, Daddy?"

Lightning chuckled. "Come on, I'll show you,"

"Right away, then," Hudson slowly replied.

McQueen had Hudson watch from the spectator rockface as he rolled to the start line of Willie's Butte. "Doc, this one's for you," he revved his engine and took off.

Little Hudson gapped as Lightning took the high angle and stuck to it despite being almost horizontal. The seven-time champion put full throttle and approached the final sharp left turn.

"Dad!" Hudson yelled.

Lightning grinned. He twitched his front wheels left, letting his back swing out, then turned full lock to the right, allowing him to drift around the bend with elegance and ease.

For Little Hudson, time slowed as he examined every movement his father made. All the twitches and adjustments to maintain the drift for a full hundred-and-eight degrees. "Wow!"

Time reasserted itself when Lightning straightened and spun in a couple doughnuts upon returning to the finish line.

When he stopped, McQueen sighed with a satisfied smile, then glanced to the slack-jawed Young Hudson. "Care to give the Hornet-Moon Drift a try, rookie?"

"Hornet-Moon?"

Lightning nodded. "The drift was first perfected by Junior Midnight Moon and improved by your namesake, the Fabulous Hudson Hornet. Doc Hud taught me; now it's my turn to teach you. If you want it,"

Little Hudson just nodded. "Oh, I want to, Dad; I want to show the world that steam power isn't gone. Right away, I'll use whatever I've got,"

Lightning McQueen grinned. "That's the stuff, kid!"