“Okay, here we go,” Lightning said to himself as he sat idling in the darkness of the trailer. It was the day of the Piston Cup Championship, and Lightning was working hard to find the zone.
“Focus,” he commanded himself. “Speed. I am speed.”
Across the country, cars had closed up their shops and headed to the closest television set to watch the race of the century.
“Bob, there’s a crowd of nearly three hundred thousand cars here at the Los Angeles International Speedway,” Darrell said as he and Bob sat in the announcers’ booth. “Tickets to this race are hotter than a black leather seat on a hot summer day.”
Chick was feeling smug as he basked in the limelight. He was surrounded by press and photographers, soaking up all the attention.
“C’mon, Chick, let’s see the cloud!” begged the reporters. “Flash that thunder, baby!”
“Oh, yeah, you wanna know the forecast?” Chick bragged. “I’ll give you the forecast: one hundred percent chance of thunder! Ka-chick-a! Ka-chick-a! Say it with me!”
Meanwhile, Lightning stayed in his trailer, ignoring the chaos outside. He revved his engine. “Victory,” he muttered quietly as he pictured himself flying down the track ahead of Chick and The King. “One winner, two losers. Speed. Speed. Speed!” Lightning remembered the drive with Sally and the view of Radiator Springs from the spot near the Wheel Well. Gosh, that was gorgeous, Lightning thought. He smiled a little, picturing the townsfolk. I never even said good-bye to Mater, he thought regretfully.
“Hey, Lightning!” Mack called as he banged on the trailer door. “You ready?”
Lightning’s eyes snapped open. What am I doing? he thought. I don’t have time to daydream— I have a race to win! “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he said, giving himself a good shake. “I’m ready.”
He rolled out of his trailer and faced the enormous crowd of fans. They let out a deafening cheer, and Lightning squinted as a thousand cameras flashed in his face.
“Thanks for being my pit crew today,” Lightning said to Mack, who was parked beside a big gas can.
“Least I could do,” Mack replied.
Out on the track, a group of color-coded cars drove in formation, spelling out the words “Piston Cup.”
In the announcers’ booth, Bob explained that this would be the last race for Strip Weathers—The King.
“You know, Chick Hicks ain’t gonna let The King just drive away with it today,” Darrell added. “He’s gonna pull out all the stops to win this one.”
“And there he is,” Bob said as the stadium monitor flashed an image of Lightning pulling up to the starting line. “Lightning McQueen. Missing all week and then he turns up in the middle of nowhere, in a little town called Radiator Springs.”
“Wearing whitewall tires,” Darrell added with a chuckle, “of all things.”
Chick pulled up next to Lightning and flashed his shiny thundercloud. “Ka-chick-a! Ka-chick-a! Ka-chick-a!” He laughed uproariously. “Hey, where ya been, Lightning? I’ve been kind of lonely, nobody to hang out with—I mean, except the Dinoco folks.”
Chick babbled on, but Lightning was having a hard time paying attention to him. His mind was wandering. He was back on the mountain with Sally. Gee, she looked pretty that day, Lightning thought as he pictured the beautiful Porsche in front of the waterfall.
Just then, the green flag dropped. Chick and The King were off like bullets.
“Uuuugh!” Lightning cried as he snapped out of his daydream. “Shoot!” He took off after them, chasing their bumpers. Two laps later, all three cars were battling for first place.
“Oh, Chick slammed the door on him,” Darrell announced as Chick moved in to cut off Lightning. With a sudden burst of speed, Chick left the rookie in his dust.
“Chick’s not making it easy on him today,” Bob said. It was true. Although he wanted more than ever to win, Lightning was having trouble focusing on the race. His mind kept wandering. Like right then: he was picturing himself on the drive up the mountain with Sally again. He remembered how she had splashed him. And—
A wall!
Lightning jarred himself out of his memory just in time to swerve away from the concrete wall. But he cut too hard and spun deep into the infield. The crowed gasped.
Chick grinned. “Just me and the old man, fellas,” he told his pit crew over the radio. “Lightning just doesn’t have it today.”
“好吧,比賽就要開始了?!丙溊ぷ谄岷诘能噹餆o聊地自言自語。今天就是活塞杯冠軍賽了,麥坤正努力找回最佳狀態(tài)。
“集中注意力,速度,我就是速度!”麥坤調(diào)整狀態(tài)。
全國上下,所有的汽車都暫時關(guān)閉自家的商店,到最近的電視機前觀看這場世紀盛況。
達倫和鮑勃在直播室等候比賽開始,達倫說:“鮑勃,洛杉磯國際賽道上聚集了將近30萬輛汽車!比賽的門票太熱銷了,簡直比炎炎夏日下的黑色皮座椅還熱?!?
賽場的燈光下,路霸顯得自鳴得意。他的身邊圍滿了記者和攝影師,所有人將目光投向他。
“路霸!給我們看看你的雷云!”記者們呼喊著,“給大家炫一下!太酷了!”
“哈哈哈,想知道天氣預報嗎?”路霸自吹自擂,“我還是給大家預報一下吧:百分之百是電閃雷鳴!咔嚓——咔嚓——咔嚓!大伙給我一起喊——咔嚓!”
此時,麥坤還在拖車里,對外面的喧囂充耳不聞。他發(fā)動了車子,“勝利”,他一邊嘀咕一邊想象自己飛馳在賽道上,把路霸和車王狠狠地甩在身后?!耙粋€冠軍,兩個手下敗將!速度,速度,速度!”麥坤回想起和莎莉一起兜風的場景以及從輪井俯瞰的小鎮(zhèn)全景。天哪,簡直太美妙了!他笑了笑,腦子里又浮現(xiàn)出小鎮(zhèn)里可愛的居民。我還沒和板牙說再見!想到這里,麥坤感到遺憾。
“閃電,你準備好了嗎?”麥克對麥坤喊了一聲,隨即打開 車門。
麥坤忽然睜開眼睛。我在想什么?現(xiàn)在可不是做白日夢的時候,我還有比賽要贏!他抖擻身姿對麥克說:“是的,我準備好了!”
麥坤從拖車上走了下來。眼前,數(shù)以萬計的粉絲們已恭候多時。他們發(fā)出震耳欲聾的歡呼聲。當成百上千的攝像機閃過他臉龐的時候,麥坤瞇起眼睛。
“謝謝你今天做我的維修團隊。”麥坤對停在大油箱旁邊的麥克說。
“盡綿薄之力罷了。”麥克回答。
賽道外看臺上,一群不同顏色的車輛飛馳而過,車形擺出三個大字:活塞杯!
直播室里,鮑勃向大家解釋這場比賽將是車王的最后一場 比賽。
“路霸絕不會讓車王贏得這場比賽,他會全力以赴非贏不可?!边_倫接過鮑勃的話說。
“麥坤出場了!”鮑勃激動地說。賽場的大屏幕上,麥坤已經(jīng)來到起跑線?!跋Я苏恢埽W電麥坤奇跡般地出現(xiàn)在一個叫水箱溫泉鎮(zhèn)的偏遠小鎮(zhèn)。”
“重要的是,”達倫輕聲笑著說,“麥坤換上了白胎壁輪胎?!?
路霸走上賽道,停在麥坤旁邊,展示著身上炫酷的雷云圖案?!斑青辍青辏 彼呗暣笮?,“老兄,你都去哪里了?我有點孤單,沒有人跟我玩……除了岱諾可的人。”
麥坤飽受煎熬地聽著路霸在一旁嘮叨。他的思緒又開始飄蕩,他回想起和莎莉一起在山路間奔跑,回想起漂亮的保時捷停在瀑布前。莎莉那天真漂亮!他想。
這時,綠旗揮動,比賽正式開始!路霸和車王像子彈一樣沖出起跑線。
麥坤從回憶中醒來,大叫一聲:“看我的!”嗖的一下,麥坤緊追其后。兩圈過去了,三人你追我趕,每個人都朝著第一的位置進攻。
賽場上,路霸沖過來撞向麥坤。達倫沖著話筒喊:“噢,路霸用車門撞了麥坤!”緊接著,路霸乘勝追擊,將麥坤甩在后輪甩起的煙塵里。
“路霸今天不會給麥坤好果子吃了!”鮑勃說。事實確實如此。盡管麥坤鼓足了勁想贏,但他很難把注意力集中在比賽上。他的思緒不停飄蕩。就在剛才,他又開始回想和莎莉在山路間兜風的情景——他甚至清晰地記得莎莉是怎樣濺了他一身泥水,而且……
一道墻!
他猛然回過神,及時避開可能發(fā)生的碰撞。但是,由于轉(zhuǎn)彎過猛,麥坤滑出賽道并溜到內(nèi)場的草地上。看臺上的車迷都驚呆了。
路霸奸詐地笑了起來。他通過無線廣播對自己的維修團隊說:“今天就看我和那個老家伙了,麥坤肯定是沒戲了!”