"Hold still, Dandelion. I'm almost finished."

I was tryin'!

Kinda hard to sit still when tiny li'l hands are yankin' to and fro at yer hair.

I was doin' my best though. For her.

"One more should do it…" the voice belonging to the tiny hands muttered. I spot said tiny hand out of the side of my eye, reach down to pick another dandelion from the grassy yard I'm sittin' on.

I feel another yank. Gotta grit my teeth to make sure I don't budge.

She's quite the strong gripper, I'll give her that. Reckon she could teach me a thang or two, since I'm honestly not all that great at keepin' a good grip on my lasso yet.

I hear her giggle and clap her hands.

"Okay! I'm done!" she says with pride.

My hands come up to feel my head. Hoo boy… at least Gammy don't need to worry about weedin' her flower bed anymore. The dandelions have all been relocated to my noggin.

Before I can really say anythang, a dark-haired scruffy lil' face pops up into mine. She smiles at me, showing all her missin' teeth.

"Do you like it? Do you like it?" she asks enthusiastically, jumpin' on my lap.

"Well, I can't like what I can't see, now can I?" I said, givin' her a noogie.

She laughs and squeals, trying to wrestle me. I keel over and let her tackle me. We're only two years apart, but the girl's barely half my size! Now I ain't no quitter, but my Gammy Gram told me to never take pride in beatin' up some fool you could clock in one hit, and I always try to listen to my Gammy.

"Heeeey! No fair!" she protests.

"Whatdaya mean 'no fair'?" I inquire, genuinely confused.

I turn to see the tiny girl, arms crossed with a pout on her dirty face.

"You let me win!" she whined.

Ooh, busted. I can't fool her.

"What's so wrong with that?" I ask.

The lil' lady shuts one eye real tight and glares at me with the other.

"How am I gonna be strong like you if you keep letting me win all the time!?" she complains.

That gets me.

"You- you want my muscles?"

She shakes her head.

"NO. I said I wanna be strong, like you!"

"Strong? …I'm strong?" I think. "…She wants to be like me?"

Suddenly, my thoughts are interrupted when a wonderful scent of my Gammy's buttermilk pancakes hittin' my nose. I hear her voice call out from somewhere behind me.

"Wyatt, honey, Wheilemena, darlin'! Breakfast! Come inside, you two!"

"Okay, Gammy!" yell back as I try to get up.

The li'l girl gets off my lap and runs toward the voice, shouting:

"C'mon, Dandelion! I wanna show Mrs. Gammy my masterpiece!"

I try to get up to follow her, but for some reason, I can't.

I push myself upward, but an invisible force puts my tail right back on the ground. I turn to see the little girl is gone, and I'm alone. A bad feeling starts creepin' up my back, one I can't shake.

"Willy!" I shout, hopin' she'll hear me and come back.

She doesn't.

The world goes dark. Pure black an' empty. I'm the only thing left.

…But, I can hear someone far away, soundin' like they're callin' my name.

"Wyatt…"

It's quiet, but the voice sounds so familiar to me.

"Wyatt."

Yeah, I know that voice. It's the lil' girl's voice. Only different. Older now.

"Wyatt!"

It's Willy. She's callin' me.

"Wyatt, get up!" she shouts from somewhere I can't reach, "I need you to GET UP!"

Get up? …I need to get up?

Oh, that's right.

I'm dreamin'.

I only made it three paces before that Robo-Shark was on me.

I tripped over my own toolbox, which I had dropped when I did my super(stupid)hero landing from the ceiling earlier. I could only turn to watch the mechanical beast rear its ugly, terrifying, cousin eating head in my face.

It could've eaten me right then and there. That would've been the end, finito. No more Wheilemena Mae. Arrivederci and Addio!

…but I guess the shark had other plans.

I expected to be eaten, not (painfully) slammed into my (already badly bruised) side by a metal shark tail into a pile of old tires.

Through my delirium, three emotions came to me at once, each one equally conflicting.

The first was relief. Obviously, I was still alive. That was good.

The second was confusion. Why didn't the shark just eat me? I had nowhere to run, why did it deny itself a free meal?

The third, embarrassingly enough, was indignation. Was I not GOOD ENOUGH to consume?! The thing ate my cousin, for goodness sake! The boy's sweatsocks could kill a small animal, and I'm pretty sure half of his diet consists purely of Hot Cheetos and green Gatorade (yes, just the green one. Uncultured, if you ask me). NOT nutritious! …Maybe the Robo-Shark just has bad taste?

I shake off the dizziness and pain from the impact, and try to stand. Big mistake. My legs give out on me immediately, and I fall face first into the pile of tires below me. Okay, my bottom limbs are tired of my shenanigans, and now they've gone on strike. Perfect, I'm a sitting duck…or rather a lying-flat-on-my-face duck. I don't think it matters.

"Man, my arms hurt." I think to myself, still a little woozy. "Wait, my ARMS hurt! I can still feel my arms!"

Thank God only one of them is slightly dislocated from the Robo-Shark's tail! Imagine if it were both! I'd be in REAL trouble then.

I push myself upward into a sitting position and look around. I can't see the shark, but I can hear it growling. I know what this is. My cat does it all the time at home with the tiny grasshoppers in our backyard. This shark isn't hungry anymore.

It's playing with its food.

I hunch down and grit my teeth. I'm not about to be a plaything for some abomination against nature! I've got to get out of here.

I scan the darkened room for something, anything, a solution for my near death predicament.

"I could always drive out of here." I think.

Not a bad idea, but I don't have a shrunken vehicle on me, and (even if my legs cooperated) risking a mad dash to a vehicle in the dark is just plain stupid.

My heart starts pounding faster as I realize I may be out of options. The volume of the growling increases. I duck down even more, hoping the old tires hide me.

Of all the near death predicaments I could've expired from, is this the one that's going to get me? I bury my face in my hands and say one final prayer, hoping I'm not being too foolish for doing it.

"Please Lord, if you're gonna kill me this way, please oh please, don't let Wyatt find out." I whisper as quietly as possible.

I know Wyatt. The boy would never forgive himself if something happened to someone he cared about. As much as I'd like to pretend, I don't think my heart could take it if he was hurt by my demise.

As I hunker down, I realize I hear something else, the sound of somebody breathing. My body is suddenly on pins and needles as I also realize I'm sitting on that someone, someone with a nasty bash on the side of his head, looking like a shark's tail slapped him in the face. Someone with a very familiar hat.

"Wyatt…" I whisper in surprise.

What is this feeling? It's not relief. That's what I felt seeing mio cugino, right before he got…well, you know.

The feeling in my chest was something much more humiliating. It was pure unbridled joy. I was happy to see him. Oddio, I'm HAPPY to see HIM? I must be losing my marbles.

I find myself shaking him with my aching arms.

"Wyatt… Wyatt!" whisper more fervently, "Wyatt, I need you to GET UP."

The boy stirs and squints his eyes at me.

"W-Willy? Is that you?" he says, clearly groggy from his untimely ambush.

I try to signal for him to shush, but it's too late. A sharp hissing noise emanates from behind, and I only manage to latch onto one of Wyatt's muscular arms before we are both rammed into from behind by the vicious artificial predator making the horrid sound.

We both tumble over each other like a barrel thrown from a hill, traveling a good 30 feet on the ground before coming to a stop. Wyatt may be muscular, but he is also VERY not comfortable to roll into, nor be rolled into by. All I feel is PAIN.

We're barely mobile. Wyatt's barely conscious, and I'm less than half functional.

"If there was ever a time, we needed a miracle, it would probably be now." I think.

"BEEP!"

I look up to see two big LED eyes staring down on me.

Oh my gosh, nevermind, this is better than a miracle.

It's Jerry.

This is it. This VERY big hunk of a chapter is the thing I've been working on for so long. It's gone through a good deal of changes, but the main gist is still there. Wyatt's dream, Wheelie's constant pain and suffering!

Anyways, apologies for my tardiness, trying to balance consistency between the Team Hot Wheels tumblr blog and this story is hard. Doable, but hard.

Until the next chapter! (Let us pray it is released on time!)