A/N: this story links up with my first two 'Cars' books, so think of it as the sequel.
Dusty, a small-town plane, who dreams of one day competing as a high-flying air racer. However, poor Dusty has two strikes against him: He's not built for racing...
Later on at dusk, Braedey and Mary had arrived at Propwash Junction, the air traffic controller surprised by the fact that two flying cars had just touched down. Once they landed, Braedey retracted his flight pack, Mary doing so with her wings, tail, and engines. The two cars made their way towards the gas station to top up on their fuel, they could hear something over at one of the hangars called 'Chug and Dottie's Fill-n'-Fly'.
A forklift, Dottie, was checking on Dusty's engine. "Oil lines and oil cooler check out." She reassured to him.
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Dottie is a forklift who works as a mechanic. She is painted mainly indigo-blue, with white fenders that join together on each side. She has brown eyes, along with brown toolbelts attached to her sides.
"Mmm-hmm." Dusty murmurs to let her know he was listening.
"AN-8 fittings look fine." Dottie reassures.
"Nice." Dusty says.
"Wait a minute." Dottie now realised something as she looked closer. "You've worn out your main oil-seal."
"Huh. Really?" Dusty knew why, too, and he was feeling guilty.
"That kind of damage comes from extremely..." Dottie slammed his hood shut, but it was not fully closed. "...high speeds." Dottie pushed the hood fully closed making Dusty flinch back a bit. "Pushing the engine to the red line for prolonged periods of time." Dottie lowered herself from the ramp she was on to put away the tools.
"That would be unwise." Dusty tried to cover up his mistake.
Dottie turned to Dusty again, still having the wrench on one of her forks. "But that's not you."
"No." Dusty reassured.
"You're a crop duster and all you do is just dust crops..." Dottie moved forward, back to Dusty. "...at very low speeds."
"Yep, low and slow." Dusty reassured her.
"Unless you've been racing again!" Dottie threatened.
"No!" Dusty was taken aback. "What, me? No." He chuckled.
A horn honked and Chug comes in racing to a stop in front of Dusty. "Oh, man, Duster, you were in the zone." Dusty looked to Dottie. "...where a Saturn rocket couldn't catch ya!" Dusty shook his head trying to get Chug to stop. "Ballistic! We're talking..." Chug flashed his headlights. "...light speed. Light speed, here!" Dottie slapped the wrench on her other fork. "You're goin' to tear it up at the..." Dottie faced Chug. "...qualifier this weekend." He realised his mistake. "Yea..." He sighed in disappointment. Dusty looked up like he could not believe what Chug had just done. "Oh, Shelby."
Dottie faced Dusty again, she was furious. "Um..." Dusty tried to think of something on the spot. "I don't know." Then his expression was changed to show he did not care.
