Cars - human bent

The Hudson Hornet

"OOOoooohhh say cAN YOU SEEEEEEEEEE"

Lightning screamed and fell out of his bed, his legs tangling in the sheets until he crashed face first onto the floor.

"BYYY THE DAAWNS eaRLY LIIIIIIGHT"

"WHAAAAT SO PROOOOOOOUUUUDLY WE HAAAAIILLED"

Light pushed up off the floor, stumbling to his door and pulling it open to the early morning light.

The National Anthem was blaring out of an air siren in Sarge's front yard. The man - dressed in full combat gear - was raising the flag and then saluting it.

Another tune started playing over the top of Sarge's National Anthem. It was Jimi Hendrix's rendition of the very same song... and it was playing just as loud.

"WILL YOU TURN THAT DISRESPECTFUL JUNK OFF?!" Sarge bellowed across his lawn. Fillmore, who sat in a lawn chair sipping his drink, hummed, "Respect the classics, man."

Light shut his door with a grumble and tripped back into bed.

The soft mattress welcomed him with open arms.

The next time Light woke it was to the sound of a radio.

It filled his room, coming from the historic device that sat on his night table, antennas stretching up to the sky.

It woke him up, but unlike the Air Siren it didn't scare him.

He lay groggily, half listening to the voices filling his room between bursts of static.

It took him a minute or two but he suddenly realized who was speaking over the radio.

It was Bob Cutlass and Darrell Cartrip. The announcers of the Piston Cup races and all its subsidiaries.

Light raised his head off his pillow, rubbing his eyes and trying to hear the announcers better.

He didn't like what he heard.

"It's still been an inconclusive search for the famed Lightning McQueen. This rookie racer has been missing for about a week now. Attempts to contact his family and those closest to him have yielded nothing. Bob here is on-site at the Piston Cup race track, Bob- let's hear what his competitors have to say."

Just like the last time Lightning had heard them over the radio they interviewed Chick Hicks - who had quite a few choice words to say - and they speculated about where Lightning McQueen could be, but this time The King added a comment:

"He's a good racer. He has spirit and talent. Granted he doesn't always channel them correctly, but regardless...I hope we find him. Wherever he might be..."

Right here! Light wanted to yell for the whole world to hear. Stuck in the middle of nowhere, with a bunch of crazies and no way to get out!

Except finish his job. But he wasn't even halfway done and they wouldn't let him leave otherwise.

A hot knot of anger started forming in his stomach. Anger and resentment and...fear.

What if he couldn't finish in time? What if he did finish but they didn't let him leave for some reason? What if the race started early, or without him? What if Chick Hicks won?

Lightning couldn't stomach that idea and he quickly stood up, throwing the radio onto the bed after clicking it off.

He grabbed his clothes and realized they were still caked in mud from the night before. It hadn't even crossed his mind to clean them, or that he didn't have anything else to wear. So he put them on and left his room.