"Speed."
Cars bolted by.
"I am speed."
A rainbow of revving engines decorated the track.
"Victory. One winner. Twenty losers. I eat losers for breakfast."
Large, decorated racecars came to a stop in their designated pits, smiling for cameras, getting gas and tires, adding to the growing excitement that filled the arena.
"I wish I'd had breakfast...no, focus! Speed, speed, speed..."
A growing light assaulted his little eyes. He heard Mack's voice, the only comfort he'd ever had. "Alright, buddy. You go get 'em!"
Blinding white flashes added to the already offensive light, but Light was part of his name.
Lightning rolled down the ramp provided by Mack's door, and struck his usual pose. "Ka-chow!"
The crowd in front of him, made primarily of cameras cheered. There was also a series of d'aawws.
Little Lightning McQueen was only four years old.
Mack turned around to face him. "You sure know how to work a crowd, buddy."
Lightning smiled up at him, bouncing on his tires. "Is it time yet?"
Mack laughed. "Sure is, little buddy. Now get out there and show 'em how Lightning McQueen races!"
"And remember," a voice called from his trailer, fuzzy with static. "You're five."
McQueen paid little heed, to overcome with excitement for the upcoming event. He sped off through the crowd, easily dodging the much larger cars as he made his way to the junior racers pits.
Some of the big race cars chuckled as he passed. "Hey, kid! Save some for the track!"
"He's gonna be a wild one out there."
"Watch out for speedy!"
Lightning giggled, smiling at the friendly grown up cars, before slamming to a stop against a hard, angry surface.
"Hey, watch it kid!" The big green car snapped, looming over Lightning like a mountain. The little red car tucked in on himself, trying to seem smaller. "I'm sorry."
"Well, you should be! You think just because you're a kid racer you own this place?" The green car went on, obviously agitated. His pit crew surrounded him, giving Lightning matching glares. "You could've scratched his paint job!"
Lightning looked at the spot on the cars hood where he'd hit. "I don't see a scratch," he offered trying to be helpful.
"You don't see a scratch!" The big car mimicked in a high, silly voice. "You think you can get out of this that easily?!"
"Hey, leave him alone, Chick!" One of the other racecars turned around to face the ruckus. "He's just a kid."
"So what's he doing here? Thinking he can race with the real cars? I've got enough problems without some crazy wannabe kid!" Lightning looked at the black car that had come to his rescue, and saw him nudge his head in the direction of the Rust-eez tent. The little car took this moment to zoom off, away from, the angry racer. He felt awful. He hadn't meant to do any damage...had he? His dad wasn't going to be happy with him for this.
Two large rusty cars were waiting for him. "Hey, little pal!" Rusty greeted him happily. "You alright?" He'd seen what had gone down with the other, older car. Chick Hicks was not a car to be messed with, and as of recently, he'd been in a very bad mood.
