Dream Girl (Lightning McQueen X Self insert)

Goodnight, Sleep tight, Don't let the Creepy Men Bite

A/N: (I know the title is weird.)

Would you like to read from...

>McQueen's perspective

Ok! I'll write...
Here's your chapter!
====================

'So that might be why...'
.
.
.
I decide to leave since I didn't want to cause a racket, like they'd let me get gas anyway. I drop my car off by the junkyard, before I see a letter from Sally.

If you'd like to go to the cozy cone, come to my office and I'll give you the keys for room one. I pity you for having to sit in that junkyard.
-Sally

Free place for the night, who I am to be picky.
I shrug as I continue to walk to the cozy cone now.

After signing in with Sally and getting my keys, I head to my room and soon fall asleep, thinking about... the race?

Or about what happened.

Change of Perspective?
>Chris

I walked out of aunt Flo's, milkshake in hand, since she knows I'll be staying up or sleeping all night.
Sleep deprived, or too much sleep, well: we'll never know.
"I'll see you at breakfast here." I wave.
"Goodnight!"
"Goodnight." The door closes, as I'm met with a familiar face. Doc Hudson, my grandfather.

Well I could definitely guess how the fate of this conversation will go.

"Why are you up so late?" His gruff voice questions me.

"McQueen insisted that we work later, and I thought it was fine because my work for tomorrow is later in the day. Sorry."

'Well, that was a pathetic apology.'

"I was worried about you. Racing after your work tomorrow?"

I grin at this.

"If the new guy doesn't go ahead and make me supervise him again because of court rules, yeah."

"I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I've been giving you a hard time lately. I guess with your job and everything you've been busy...but you always act relaxed." He looks to the side.

"...it means a lot that you care grandpa." I link onto his arm. I used to do this when I was younger, so I do it now too I guess. It's not weird, just kinda a habit at this rate.

And we walk.

"Of course I care." His voice is grovely and tired as we make it to his house.

"Where's your car?"

"Helped pave the road. I'll get it later tomorrow."

"Ok, sleep well. Would ask to watch a movie but we're both tired."

"Yep, thanks grandpa. Sleep well."

I always appreciate him for being curt and blunt with me.

"Same to you."

I stay for 30 minutes, before leaving quietly to the garage.

"Grandpa never takes care of these... I feel bad for what happened."
Using a rag I keep hidden in a container, I start dusting the trophies and adjusting everything to its neatness just as I left it.
It's good, to keep myself busy.

Why does he keep the clipping of the newspaper article from his crash?

You'd think it wouldn't help, but I suppose to encapsulate his whole career it's needed.