"Darrell!" Bob Cutlass called on the TV announcement. "Are you seeing this too?"

"I sure am, Bob!"

The screen showed Lightning McQueen in the lead, with Cal Weathers and Bobby Swift flanking him and Cruz behind the pair. The four friends were rolling at top speed. And Jackson Storm was boxed inside them.

"Is that legal, Darrell?"

"I don't know, Bob. But wow, is that something to see. Lightning McQueen is about to win a record-breaking eighth Piston Cup!"

Barring Smokey, as the pickup truck was Lightning's crew chief, the Thomasville Legends watched along with the Radiator Springs residents. River chuckled. "Now there's a move we never thought of using against Leroy,"

Junior scoffed. "We'd have needed to catch up with him first," he started coughing loudly.

At the wave of the white flag, Lightning gave a sharp rev of his engine, signalling for Bobby, Cal, and Cruz to part.

Darrell yelled, "What're they doing?"

"I think McQueen wants to give Storm a sporting chance,"

Lightning put on full speed, and Storm picked up the pace to try and overtake.

"They got one turn left!" Darrell called.

"It's going to be close!" Bob replied. "High-speed cameras at the ready!"

A pair of blurs, one red, the other black, shot over the finishing line, followed by a blue streak and a golden one.

"Cal Weathers takes third, and Cruz Ramirez is fourth," Bob declared. "Let's go to the slow-motion replay to see who came first,"

The screen cut to high-speed footage of the line as Lightning and Storm approached.

Watching Young Hudson shut his eyes tight.

"And it's Lightning McQueen by less than an inch!" Darrell announced. "McQueen's won his eighth Piston Cup! He's the greatest champion ever!"

Horns and sirens sounded, and Hudson opened his eyes and watched the second replay of the slow motion. He saw his father cross from the grey asphalt over the chequered lines just frames ahead of Jackson Storm.

The footage changed to Lightning spinning doughnuts on the track and getting swarmed by Cruz, Cal, and Bobby.

Hudson's safety valve lifted, and he slumped to the ground. "Well done, Dad,"

Junior Moon nudged the little steam car. "I bet your namesake is saying similar wherever he is,"

River and Lou rolled up beside Junior. "Hey, Midnight, how about we head to the Taste-In and get some of Fillmore's high-end homebrew to celebrate? I mean, not every day Hud's boy becomes the all-time champion,"

Junior gave another, smaller coughing fit. "Not tonight, River. I've got other things to do tonight,"

Lou frowned. "Oh, c'mon, Junior. It's not a party without you,"

"Yeah," River added. "You never pass up a stop at Fillmore's; you're always trying to convince him to go mainstream with his fuel,"

"I'm busy," Junior snapped.

"Okay," River said. "We get it," he turned to Lou. "How about we stay with everyone else here at Flo's?"

"Works for me," Lou replied.

"If you need me," Junior said. "I'll be in my cone," He slowly rolled over to the Cosy Cone. His tailpipe backfired.

Hudson watched Junior move away, and concern grew on his face.

Doctor Lane came alongside. "I'm worried too, Master Hudson. However, I cannot act until the patient is ready. And I don't think a young whippersnapper like yourself could convince Mr Moon to seek my expertise. Now, let's be off. You have racing training to do; can't get an athlete's profile standing around,"

The morning after Lightning's winning race, the Radiator Springs citizens had breakfast at Flo's.

Hudson helped with distributing the oilcans. The child watched as Flo offered Filmore a drink like always. As always, Fillmore turned her down with a gesture towards his own organic beverages. Flo chuckled to herself and rolled away as Sarge barked at Fillmore for turning down a delicious drink against his hippie junk.

Once Hudson asked Flo why she still offered the drink daily to Fillmore despite always being rejected, Flo simply said it was polite to offer anyway.

After the last can was given to Mater, Hudson sat beside Sally.

A sharp banging sounded from the Cosy Cone.

Every rolled to the edge of Flo's driveway and looked about.

Junior Moon rolled out of his cone, then stalled. His engine whirred and struggled before he began moving, but his tailpipe kept backfiring. Junior started coughing again, even harder. He overrevved, and his radiator blew, dislodging his hood. A rattling from inside indicated his cap had come off.

Steam and smoke leaked from the old racer, and Junior groaned and slumped to the ground, his eyelids slowly shutting.

Doctor Lane yelled, "Mater, hook onto Mr Moon and drag him into the clinic,"

Mater latched his hook onto Junior's rear axle. River and Lou rolled along after.

Hudson glanced at Sally. "What's wrong with Mr Moon?"

Sally shook her hood. "I don't know,"

"I think I do," Lizzie replied mournfully. "That sounds like an engine failure, brought on my metal fatigue," the townsfolk gasped.

"Metal fatigue?" Hudson asked.

Sarge answered, "An accumulation of cracks caused by excessive strain. I've seen several of my old war colleagues go thanks to it,"

Lizzie nodded. "It's what Stanley died of back in forty-eight,"

Sally added, "It's also what Doc died from,"

"Will Mr Moon pass away?" Hudson asked.

"There's a difference now," Lizzie said, lightly stroking her tyre against Hudson's fender. "Neither Stanley nor Doc had medical mechanics who could give them complete overhauls. With Doctor Lane, he could make it,"

Sally rolled away and down the road to the Cosy Cone. "I need to call Lightning and Smokey; they both need to know."

Within a few days, Mack arrived, and the ramp lowered. Smokey rolled out fast and glanced to the clinic. Lou and River stood under the Lube O Rama sign and beckoned him to come.

Smokey sped up. "I'm not too late, am I?"

Lightning rolled up. "How's Junior?"

"We'll talk inside," Lou said; she glanced at the other townsfolk. "Doctor Lane doesn't want everyone crowding the waiting room. It's delicate work she's doing. Full overhaul and restoration job,"

Hudson rolled up to Lightning. "Dad? Can I stay with you?"

Lightning sighed. "Sorry, sport. It could take a while, and we'd just be stuck in the waiting room. You'd be better staying with the others today,"

Hudson frowned. "All right, Dad. But tell Mr Moon to get well,"

A small smile graced Lightning's mouth. "Sure thing,"

Back at Flo's, Hudson rolled next to Sally as she conversed with Flo about something.

"Lightning could have gotten a sponsor in early 2005. But had he made it into the Piston Cup a year early, he wouldn't have come here,"

"Yeah," Mack said as he stood on the outer berth. "Lightning wouldn't have had his trouble with the Smell Swell Team; I wouldn't have taken pity on the kid and recommended him to Rusty and Dusty,"

"What troubles did Lightning have with the Smell Swell?" Ramone asked.

"They had a tight budget, so they could only hire a flatbed pickup called Snyder, who had a terrible sense of direction. So, Lightning had to remain awake between races to ensure Snyder got to the correct speedway. McQueen lost sleep, wasn't on form for races, and either crossed the finishing line in the back or had to pull out due to fatigue. Smell Swell replaced him with another racer called Sammy Smelter,"

Luigi scoffed from the other side of the café. "And since no one's ever heard of Smelter or that Smell Swell is not a Piston Cup sponsor, I can only assume they've fallen by the wayside. While Lightning is the most glorious all-time champion!"

Mack nodded. "Funny how things happen. I don't know how Lightning fell out of my trailer," he leaned back and looked up at the sky. "Might have been when I nodded off on the interstate,"

Sheriff tensed. "Driving while asleep? Mack, I thought you were better than that?"

The truck gave an awkward grin. "Sorry, Sheriff, but Lightning wanted to get to the LA Speedway before Chick did, so I had been driving nonstop for over twenty-four hours."

Sheriff nodded. "Well, at least McQueen is nothing like that now,"

Beside him, Mater nodded, too. "Sounds more like something Storm would pull now to get one up on Cruz,"

Mack chuckled. "I wouldn't be surprised. Besides, while I didn't like doing it, I understood why Lightning wanted it. After what he went through with Snyder,"

Fillmore nodded. "Yeah, that would send your vibes out of whack,"

"Anyway, I tried to stay awake as long as I could. Lightning promised he'd stay awake with me, but as I expected from him back then, he didn't. Again, having lost sleep on the road with Snyder, I cut him slack. But the kid's snoring wasn't doing me any favours. Then those nitroso tuners came along,"

Hudson raised an eyebrow and glanced at Sheriff. "The Delinquent Road Hazards?"

Mack nodded. "I can't recall where we were; I know we were on the Carburettor County section of the interstate when they came along. Remember, it was night, and I was sleep-deprived. DJ started playing soothing and pretty slow jazz that put me under. I don't know how long I was asleep on the move, but when Snot-Rod sneezed and woke me up, I felt the trailer ramp was down. Guessed, I did something to open it up, so I told myself one should never drive while drowsy!"

Sally blinked, mouth agape. "And you didn't think about checking on Lightning?"

"Hey, c'mon, I wasn't thinking straight. You must have seen how worried I was when we found Lightning here after a week of him being missing,"

Sarge grumbled. "I, for one, was more focused on the paparazzi flashing their camera in my face,"

"Well, when I found the trailer empty and Lightning missing, I panicked. I knew I lost him somewhere on the interstate in Arizona when the ramp was down, but I couldn't recall where. So, the search party started from the east side of Arizona and worked its way west. That was until Kori told us about Doc's tipoff,"

Ramone spoke, "Hey, dudes, can we just pause and think about something,"

Flo glanced at her husband. "And what's on your mind, my man?"

"DJ and his buddies saved Radiator Springs,"

The sheriff raised one of his eyelids. "And how do you reckon that?"

"Well, Mack said Lightning must have dropped out the trailer when the tuners messed with him. If Lightning hadn't fallen out, he wouldn't have gotten lost and wrecked the road," he glanced at Flo, Fillmore, Luigi, Guido, and Sarge. "We'd have run through our life's savings and had to leave to find new jobs,"

Sheriff grunted. "I'm not giving those four hooligans credit. They weren't playing about with tired Mack because they wanted to help Radiator Springs. Those nitroso abusers were just picking on a defenceless fellow. Lightning speeding down Mother Road and wreaking havoc on our little town were unforeseen consequences. I'd bet my badge they didn't even know Lightning was inside Mack's trailer. Or if they did, they didn't care."

Hudson sighed and looked down the road, trying to see the clinic. "Is it wrong that I don't like this conversation while something bad is happening to Mr Moon?"

Flo smiled and shook her hood. "It ain't wrong, sweetheart. It means you've got a big heart," she then grinned. "Word of advice: the girls love a guy with a big heart,"

Hudson squirmed. "Please, can you not talk about girls. I'm not ready to think about that,"

Mater chuckled. "At the rate you're growing up, Hud. You'll be whistling a different tune in a matter of months,"

"Hey, dude," Ramone said. "Let's not tease the kid. He'll be ready when he's ready,"

Mater groaned. "Shoot, I never get to have fun with Little Hud,"

A long while later, Lightning rolled back and forth in the waiting room. "I wonder what put the smile on his face?"

"Never mind about that," Lou hastily replied.

River looked about in a confused state. "He never ailed about anything,"

"Even at racing school," Smokey added. "There you were, along with Eli, Slime, Buford and the rest, coughing and sneezing with a frog in your carburettors; as a kid, he'd have one on his running board,"

Lou huffed. "Ready for dropping down a girl's panel gaps. And took a long time getting it out, if I recall,"

Smokey then asked, "I wonder who's going to look after his distilling company,"

Lightning glanced at Smokey. "Junior owns an oil distillery?"

"Midnight Moonshiners," Lou replied. "He wanted to keep the old moonshine recipes alive; I hear it's becoming popular for race spectators," she then glanced around at the blocks. "And Junior can look after his company,"

"You're right, Lou," Smokey said. "Let's stop talking as if he's going to die. Folks like Junior don't die, not the type. I mean, if Junior can die, then no one's safe,"

Lightning sighed. "I thought the same about Doc,"

River frowned. "I thought something was wrong at Fillmore's Taste-In last night. He loves that stuff, just like the old moonshine. Why didn't Junior want to be at the Taste-In,"

Lou replied, "He said he was busy,"

"Doing what?" River asked.

Lightning glanced at the doors to the surgery, and his face fell. "Dying,"

Everyone turned to see Doctor Lane emerge. Silently, she shook her hood.

Lightning, Lou, River, and Smokey sat around the central hall of the Doc Hudson Racing Museum. They had a table set up with a bunch of crude oil cans sitting on them. Lou took a slow swig. "Just as well he never got new racing tyres,"

Smokey looked down. "I reckon he knew,"

"Knew what?" River asked.

"Knew what was coming," Smokey replied.

Lou raised an eyelid. "Because he skips out on Fillmore's fuel for once?"

River nodded. "No, Smokey's right; that should have told us something,"

Lou sighed. "Truth be told, I wondered at the time. Thought he must have something up his cubbyhole."

"Being dead?" Smokey commented. "That really is keeping something secret."

River chuckled. "He was always tricky,"

Lightning spoke, "What ticks me off is that we never got to say anything. Even if it was only goodbye," he sighed. "I should've known something was wrong. Should've gone to him,"

Smokey raised an eyelid. "Junior? Or is it Hud on your mind?" Lightning blinked. The old crew chief nodded. "I'm betting you never said goodbye to Old Hud, didn't you?"

Lightning sighed. "No, I never got to say goodbye to Doc," he glanced at the picture of him and Doc Hudson racing around Willie's Butte. It became a centrepiece image for the museum when they put in a section about Doc's time as Lightning's crew chief.

"I should have known something was up when he asked Mater to be my crew chief at the final race for my third winning season. I shouldn't have gone to the afterparty; it was too loud for me to hear Sally calling me. It was only during a lull I managed to register my phone was going off, and that's when Sal told me Doc had gone an hour before," he looked down, a tear formed in his windscreen nozzles. "Some of the last intelligible things Doc said included his pride that I won three Piston Cups in a row, just like him. I was every bit the race car he was, and it was my turn to be better. When the Piston Cup was renamed in Doc's honour, I was determined to win it as my tribute to him,"

Lightning reversed and rolled around the room. "Never made up for the fact I never got to say goodbye. Now, both times. Junior could have given us a chance to say goodbye,"

River sighed. "Junior knew what he was doing,"

Lou nodded. "I wonder where they'll send him for breaking?"

"They?" Smokey asked. "Who's they? Has he got any family?"

"Well," Lou replied. "Someone's got to dismantle him,"

"Well, yes," River added. "Junior's body can't just be left lying around. We should count our blessing he wasn't written off and sent before he went,"

Lou blinked, and her face fell. "We'll have to take him to the junkyard,"

Smokey smirked. "You took a while to realise that. Who else did you think would do it?"

"Fair enough," Lou admitted. "But we'll give Junior a good send-off,"

"Junior used to enjoy a good wake and funeral,"

"Well," Lightning muttered. "I hope he likes this one more than I will," he glanced at the drawn blinds of the bay windows. "It's getting light,"

Out on Willie's Butte, the four racing veterans watched the sunrise over the Cadillac Range.

Lou commented, "Do you think the dead ever see a sunrise?"

Lightning grinned. "Yes, I do, actually,"

Smokey smirked. "Even those who don't get up early?"

McQueen nodded. "Even them. Maybe that's what paradise is, a place where the sun doesn't come up until you're ready. I hope there's a large dirt track, so Doc and Junior can race about like their heyday,"

River chuckled. "You think Junior was heavenly material?"

"Certainly, if Junior is, then Doc surely must, too," he sighed. "I just wish we could have said goodbye,"

Smokey rolled his eyes. "Then why don't you say it now? Top of your voice, say it now. To both Hud and Junior,"

"You feel like a fool doing that,"

"Well," Lou said, sidling up. "We'll join you, all together, then we can all be fools,"

River laughed. "As if we need an excuse,"

"You're right," Lightning said. "Sometimes it's right to feel a fool, and I know I have several times in my life," he paused to breathe. "Now, what do we say?"

"You wanted to say goodbye," Smokey replied. "Goodbye, Junior, and goodbye, Hud, or Doc in your case. That should be enough,"

"Doesn't that seem a bit bold? Isn't there something a bit more cheerful?"

"Like what?" Lou asked.

"Well," Lightning stammered. "Let's think of something. What about Cheerio?"

River shook his head. "Makes it sound as though we're glad to be rid of them. What's that thing Luigi and Guido say? Arrivederci?"

Lightning hummed. "Doc might understand it, but did Junior know Italian?"

Lou shook her head. "Junior was never one for foreign lingo,"

Smokey interjected, "I still think a simple goodbye to the pair is best. We can just say it cheerfully,"

Lightning nodded. "You're right, Smokey; goodbye, Doc and Junior,"

"Top of our voices?" River asked.

"Absolutely," Smokey replied. "Full volume. One, two, three,"

"Goodbye, Doc/Hud! Goodbye, Junior!" they yelled together.

Young Hudson rolled up at the spectator's ridge of the dirt track for his morning runabout. The echo of the quartet's holler reached him. Still, the echo and the shooting of Hud from the Thomasville trio over Lightning's Doc grabbled the words. Little Hud shouted back, "What was that?"

The words reached the four atop the butte, and they flinched.

"Chrysler almighty!" Lou uttered. "One of them heard us,"

Before anyone could say anything else, Hudson whistled his chime notes. He sped up the Butte to clear the edge and clatter onto the clifftop. "Sorry, but what were you saying?"

"Hudson," Lightning scolded. "I hope you haven't been doing stunts like that often. You could ruin your suspension,"

"Sorry, Dad," Hudson whimpered. "I wasn't thinking. But what was that you all shouted?"

Lightning sighed with a small smile. "Oh, nothing. Just a bunch of idiots thinking we could say goodbye to Doc Hudson and Midnight Moon,"

Hudson looked up to the sky. "I don't think the sound would travel that far,"

Smokey sighed. "This is more for peace of mind on our part, kiddo. Your old man said he didn't say goodbye when he had the chance," he glanced at the others. "C'mon, let's go to Flo's and have something to top us up,"

Hudson stayed at the dirt track and watched the four racing veterans leave. He looked about the area and soon rolled over to an open space.

Down at Flo's, the townsfolk were all quiet.

Lizzie glanced at Smokey. "What about his family?" the pickup truck shrugged. "Don't know, and he never talked about them; I don't think Junior has any living relatives left."

Flo suddenly asked, "Who's doing the catering?"

River raised an eyelid. "We still need to decide where he's going," Smokey nodded. "We need to see if his will has any specifics. As much as I'd want Junior to go back home to Thomasville, I think that's too expensive,"

Mack nodded. "Yeah, I've done a lot of odd jobs in my time. But I ain't transporting a lifeless body. You'd have to hire a professional,"

"Perfectly understandable, Mack," Smokey replied, rolling over to the standing phone. "I'll see if I can get hold of Junior's lawyer,"

Doctor Lane joined. "I had better be at your side, Mr Smokey, as the witness and doctor at Mr Moon's passing. Cars die, and never think about the problems they leave behind,"

As the pair went to the phone, Lizzie spoke, "Somebody had better give him a good send-off. I know I did when Stanley died,"

Fillmore nodded. "He liked my fuel; I'll brew a barrel or two,"

Sarge huffed. "I suppose, in the circumstances, I can accept that detritus,"

Lucky rolled from the phone, where Smokey stood talking, and up to Filmore. "That transitions into something important. Mr Moon's lawyer checked his will. Nothing specifies where he wished to be pastured. However, Mr Fillmore, Moon has bequeathed his distillery company to you,"

"Me?" Fillmore asked.

"Him?" Sarge asked.

"Moon believed you were the best vehicle for the job of keeping the moonshine tradition alive,"

"But I'm not the kind of car who wants to run a big business,"

"You won't be running it," Lou replied. "Junior only owned it; he had other cars doing the work. You're the sole stockholder now, so all profits go to you,"

"Then I'll donate all of it to charities and causes that'll make the world a better place," Fillmore said.

"Now that," Sarge said. "Is something I can truly support. You're doing something instead of just bumming about talking about peace and goodwill while not acting to bring it about,"

"Woah, man," Fillmore said to the jeep. "I never knew you felt that way,"

Lucky cleared her throat. "Moon's will also instruct that he wanted as many of his parts as possible to go back into the Piston Cup Racing Series,"

Mater sighed. "Well, if you don't mind, my business is a tow and salvage yard. It's never the fun part of my job. Towing's my favourite,"

Lucky glanced at Mater. "Is that why you have insecurities about your position in life? Hence why you make such outlandish stories about past escapades."

Lightning glanced at his best friend. "Mater? You don't like being a tow truck?"

"Shoot," Mater replied. "I don't mind being a tow truck; I'm the best tow truck around," he paused and looked down. "I just wonder if that's really enough,"

"Enough for you?"

"It used to be," Mater replied. "Back when Radiator Springs was packed with travellers and in the lull when the Interstate came in," he glanced at Lightning again. "Then you came along, McQueen. Before you say anything, I don't resent you, not one bit. You are and always will be my best friend. It's just I don't like the idea that I'm just a tagalong,"

"What do you mean?"

At the far end of the Flo's, Otis called out, "If anyone's a tagalong, it's me,"

"Lightning," Mater began. "You're good at everything. Next to you, I feel useless,"

"Mater?" Lightning asked. "When did you start thinking you were that?"

"After Doc died. I may be your best friend, but I ain't as important in your life as Sally, Doc, or Little Hud. And I've never been the best at anything; my sister and my cousins always outdid me," his tailpipe backfired.

Lucky blinked. "Mr Mater, what was that?"

"Sorry, Doctor. Sometimes, when I think about my sister, I get anxious, and I backfire,"

Lightning raised an eyelid. "I thought Cruz helped you get over your issues with Mato?"

"Just because she and I are on better terms doesn't mean I still don't get shakes like a suspension bridge in a hurricane,"

"Mater," Lightning stated. "You are important. And I am not great at everything," he chuckled. "I mean, for one thing, I know I can't act," his face fell, and he sighed. "Racing is the best thing I do, and I only got my eighth cup because the new rules allowed it,"

"Stickers," Sally said. "Don't think that last season was a fluke. You're still great at racing; everybody sees that." She glanced at Mater. "And Mater, just because what you do in life isn't as glamorous as Lightning's doesn't make it meaningless. You mean something to all of us, and you're the best at something,"

"What do you mean, Sally?"

"You're the best at being Mater,"

A smile grew on his face. "Well, dadgum, Sally, you're right!" he laughed.

Lightning grinned. "And a certain tow truck made a real impression at Thunder Hollow. The best backward driver really gave Miss Fritter a challenge,"

Mater laughed. "Yeah, that Thunder Hollow derby was fu-un! I don't know why you and Cruz think it's scary. Miss Fritter wasn't any worse than Frank. I had a blast!" the tow truck snorted. "And that's not just because of the fire jets. That's funny right there," Mater sighed to recover, and then he looked at Lightning. "And buddy, the Piston Cup might not be the place for you to race anymore, but you still got other races to join. The Indy Five Hundred, or another World Grand Prix,"

"That's true," Lightning said; he turned to look down toward his racing headquarters. "Speaking of the Piston Cup, I want to talk with Mr Streamline and Tex about something,"

Sally smiled. "You want the next season to honour Junior like they did Doc, right Stickers?"

"You read my mind, Sally. Don't wait up on me; this might take a while," and he drove off.

A few hours later, lightning got his answer on a video call with Tex Dinoco and Mr Streamline, the Piston Cup Racing Series Chairman.

"Why not?" he glared at Streamline's video. "Give me one good reason why you're not going to give Junior Midnight Moon the same honour you gave Doc,"

Streamline, a DeSoto Series S-10 sighed. "McQueen, I am as saddened by Junior's death as you are. However, how many of the current fans know who he is? Moon only won a single Piston Cup, and in addition, he did not have a modern presence in the series, unlike the Hudson Hornet when he acted as your crew chief,"

Lightning scowled. "How do you know Junior isn't as well-known as Doc?"

"I don't," Streamline replied. "But I'm not willing to take the risk,"

"What risk?" Lightning asked. "What could damage the Piston Cup's reputation by doing this?"

"McQueen," Streamline said sternly. "My decision is final. I am not changing the name for the next season,"

"Then," Lightning replied. "You won't be seeing me in the next season, not as a racer or as a crew chief,"

"Tex," Streamline said. "McQueen works for you; can't you reason with him?"

"I ain't doing that," Tex replied. "I can respect Lightning's decision. Junior was a fine fella, a great old racer. I'd pull Dinoco out of sponsoring, too, but the board wouldn't allow that," he scowled at Streamline. "Just know I'm as disappointed in your choice as Lightning is,"

"Thanks, Tex," Lightning said.

"Anytime,"

Streamline huffed. "Very well, but my decision stands firm. Goodbye," and the chairman switched his feed off.

Lightning grumbled. "Great, more stupid brand nonsense. I had enough of that from Sterling,"

The office door opened, and Young Hudson rolled in. "Hi, Dad. Can I show you something?"

"What is it, Hud?"

"You wanted to say goodbye to Doc and Mr Moon; please, come on!"

Lightning glanced at Tex. "Sorry, Tex, I've got to go,"

"Don't worry," Tex said with a strained grin. "I was going to sign off anyway," and the call ended abruptly.

Lightning frowned. "That's a bit odd for Tex," He turned to Hud. "I'm not racing next season as Mr Streamline won't make a proper tribute to Junior. So, this year, I'll be training you for the season after that,"

Hudson grinned. "Really, Daddy?"

Lightning nodded. "Really,"

"Can we start after I've shown you what I want to show you,"

"All right, so where are we going?"

"Back to Willie's Butte, everyone's waiting for us so we can all say goodbye together,"

Confused, Lightning followed Hudson. As they crested the viewing platform, Little Hudson nodded to a flat area beside the dirt track. "There you are,"

Lightning's eyes widened; he braked and parked as the townsfolk joined them.

Through precise driving and drifting, someone had written a message in the lightly sanded ground. The effect was a curly and cursive script which read,

TO DOC HUDSON AND JUNIOR MOON.

SEE YA, FELLAS.

Lightning and Sally pressed themselves against Hudson with closed eyes and wide, thanking grins.

Everyone looked at the message and smiled. The Thomasville veterans nodded. "Just the kind of thing Hud and Junior would say," Smokey muttered.

Red started blubbering, with Fillmore watching all dopey alongside him. "I know, so much love about, man," Sheriff nodded. Sarge saluted with his antenna. Flo and Ramone leaned into each other, and Lizzie sighed deeply. "Oh, Stanley," Luigi kissed his front tyre. "Perfecto!" and Guido eagerly nodded.

Lightning looked at the message again and nodded, tears welling up. "Yep. See ya, Doc," he lightly bumped Young Hudson. "Thanks, son, you've got a lot of stuff,"

Hudson smiled.