Cars - human bent

Or Stinging Like A Beamer?

"I can make a little turn on dirt." Lightning hissed, "And now I'm a day behind. I'm never gonna get out of this Hill Billy Hell!" He shoved another armful of broken wood and spent spray cans in the dumpster. The wood scrapped along his bare arms but he ignored it and turned back to the pile he'd collected behind him.

"Hey, ese!" 

Lightning looked up, squinting in the setting sun at the man - Ramone - who had yelled at him, "You need an ink job man!"

Light shook his head, "No, thank you." He bent down and gathered more trash.

"How about a drink! All organic recipe!" Fillmore, the hippie guy called.

The whole town, it seemed, had coalesced to watch him work. They sat across the street on a row of benches and lawn chairs, soaking in the last rays of the sun.

Sarge (Light had picked up the townies names pretty quickly, there weren't exactly a lot of them to remember) looked disgusted at Fillmore, "That freak juice?!"

McQueen shook his head, "Pass." He said under his breath.

Flo hooted into the air and stood up, stretching, "Whoo! Watchin' him workin' is makin' me thristy! Anybody else want somethin' to drink?"

Mater, who was sitting in the gutter on the side of the road, his elbows propped up on the sidewalk behind him and legs spread over the asphalt answered her, "Nah, not me Flo. I'm on one of 'em there special diets. You see Imma precisional instrument of speed." He quoted Lightning with a wide smirk.

Some people laughed at his joke.

"'You race like you clean.' Ugh." Lightning was seething, "I'll show him." He looked over at Docs shop. The man had disappeared inside an hour or so ago and hadn't come back out. 

After another long moment Lightning turned away. Looking down at himself he cringed. He was filthy. His pants still sported that gross green oil and his white short sleeved shirt couldn't even be called white anymore. And he was in serious need of a shower. Something told him the folks here wouldn't be so generous as to offer him anything like that, which made it even more important for him to get out of there as fast as he could.

Ugh. But that stupid turn, it wouldn't leave him alone, I CAN TURN FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!

***

"Would you get a look at this!" Someone shouted from outside. Doc opened his eyes slowly and looked around his office. Had he fallen asleep on his couch, again? 

With a grunt, he got up and rubbed his face.

"Mornin' Sally!" That was Mater.

Doc combed his fingers through his hair and went outside onto the street, everyone was standing around the building cross the street - an older building that hadn't been used in some years.

He walked over to join them.

Mater had his arm around Sally, "Look at this here fancy new paint that Lightnin' McQueen just done!"

"Yeah, I see it, it's amazing!"

Flo and Ramone stood next to them positively swooning at the paint job, "Look at it, just look at it."

"E Bellissima! Its beautiful! Guido, look look!"

"Doc!" Sally said, seeing him for the first time, "Look at this! Should of tossed him into the cactus a lot sooner, huh?"

Doc looked up and down the street, "Well, he ain't finished yet. Still got a long way to go."

Sally nodded then went off to go talk with someone else.

Doc stood there and inspected the paint and clean job. The sidewalk was cleared - this time no glass in the street gutters - and the paint was drying with an even coat, no dripping or thin spots. And each edge was crisp. Heck, the kid had done a good job.

A thought occurred to him, "Well, now...Where the heck is he? Sheriff!"

***

Doc jumped out of his car and jogged up to the uniformed man who was standing on the edge of a small rise, looking down at Willy's Butte race track below.

"Sheriff! I found you! Is he making another run for it?"

The Sheriff glanced over his shoulder at Doc and shook his head, "No, no. He ran outta paint and primer in the middle of the night and asked me if he could come down here. All he's trying to do is make that there turn."

Doc looked down at the track, just in time to see Lightning spin off the road at turn 3. He had the brakes on in time and didn't go cartwheeling through the cacti like before.

Even from where they stood the men could hear Lightning curse and yell, "Ah! Left turn- third- dirt - UGH!" The kid got out of the car and slammed the door behind him.

"Hm." Doc said, he stepped forward, making his way down onto the track. Sheriff watched with an interested expression and crossed arms.

"This ain't asphalt, son. This is dirt." Doc called to Lightning.

The boy whipped around to face Doc his face contorting into a frown, "Oh, great. What do you want? You here to gloat?"

He kicked the front left tire of the car then started walking back towards Sheriff, passing Doc.

"You don't have three-wheeled brakes, so you got to pitch it hard, break loose and then just drive it with the throttle. Give it too much, you'll be outta the dirt and into the tulips."

McQueen turned around, crossing his arms, "So you're a judge, a doctor and a racing expert."

Doc took a breath, resisting the urge to look heavenward, "I'll put it simply. If you're going hard enough left, you'll find yourself turnin' right."

Light burst up laughing, "Oh, right! That makes perfect sense. Turn right to go left! Yes, oh thank you! Or should I say 'no thank you'? Because apparently this is opposite world! Crazy old man." Lightning said that last part under his breath but Doc still heard it. The boy then turned back around and walked up to Sheriff who replaced his handcuffs and put him in the back of his cruiser.

Doc sighed and narrowed his eyes, feeling conflicted. This kid was an absolute punk but he felt this urge to help him - guide him and give him advice. Doc knew that if the kid wasn't a racer he wouldn't even give Lightning McQueen a second glance - but still.

***

"Here ya are." Sheriff said, opening the cell door and gesturing for Lightning to go through.

"I really have to stay here?" McQueen said, looking between the old mattress and the bent mirror in the corner.

"Not another choice." Sheriff said gruffly. Lightning huffed but stepped through into the cell.

Sheriff took off his handcuffs and Light laid down on his bed, staring up at the bunk above him.

Though he was dirty beyond belief and almost wet with sweat he was too tired to care and in a few minutes he was out like a light.

A/N: Pun intended. Well, that's not really a pun and if it was it would be horrible but still...

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