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...
The next day, Dusty sat in the corner of the hangar, looking away from the front door. looked away to a corner. I lay on the ground in defeat. What am I supposed to do now? I thought. It was quiet for us. I heard Dottie roll up to Dusty.
"Dusty?" Dottie questioned.
"Can you believe it?" Dusty sadly said. "He hasn't been straight with me this whole time. At least you were honest. You said I wasn't built for this." He sighed. "I guess I should have listened to you."
"Dusty, if you had listened to me I would never ever forgive myself." Dottie sighed, rolling up to him. "Look, the Skipper may have been wrong for what he did, but he was right about you. You're not a crop duster. You're a racer. And now... the whole world knows it."
Dusty had looked at her with thought but looked down again. He looked to Chug, who was smiling weakly to him. Dusty did the same. Mary was there too, also smiling at the determined little racer for what he's done so far.
"Thanks, Dottie." Dusty was pleased. "That means a lot." He then realised something. "I've gone as far as I can go. I'm busted up, look at me." He tried to gesture to his broken form.
"Yes, look at you." Everyone looked over to see El Chu standing at the door. Dottie helped raise Dusty's rear wheel off the ground and pushed him to the Mexican plane. "Dusty, I cannot bear the thought of competing without you." He said, just as a set of brand-new wings with tip-tanks on them were pulled near with a red box.
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"Hey, that's the wing of a T-33 Shooting Star." Dusty realised, looking at them in surprise.
"When the great Mexican Air Force needed help, American T-33s came." El Chu explained to his friend. "They did not ask questions. They did not hesitate. They were there. Because that is what compadres do."
"And what's that?" Dusty eyed the red box.
"That is my lunch." El Chu answered then added. "Don't touch. But the wings are yours."
"El Chu, I really appreciate..." Dusty got interrupted when El Chu shushed him.
"Silencio." El Chu said. "After all, you and your racecar friend helped me with my pursuits of the heart. Now we are here to help you two."
"We?" Dusty asked in confusion.
"He's right." Braedey rolled up with a set of boxes in hand. "These are brand new valve rockers, gasket heads, as well as a set of new crankcases." He rolled up to Dusty. "You are a great friend, Dusty. I'll stay by your side, no matter what."
"Oui." Rochelle agreed, as she pushed a trolley with side exhaust pipes and a box to us. "Good luck tomorrow, Dusty. I am so proud to compete with you. You and Braedey." She left the trolley and rolled away.
"You're a good egg, Dusty." Bulldog rolled up next. "Braedey, too. Look, here's a sat-nav device." He dropped a metal box on the box Rochelle left. "Just in case..." He sniffled. "In case, you ever find yourself lost, you know, without a..." He relaxed. "Without a friend to help you through it." He rolled away.
