Work Text:
A Fresh Stroke
by Pirate Turner
He felt headlights drawn to him the very second he started driving backwards out of the cone, whistling a merry tune. He drove through them all but never looked at one of them as he held his newly fixed hood up proudly. He was shining brilliantly, a happy tune whistling from between his two front teeth, but he never looked at any of them even as he heard their whispers and gasps. Not even the two sharp feminine whistles caused him to turn a headlight in their direction or to acknowledge the watchers in any way. Let them look, he thought proudly, and let them wish for what he had!
"Man, who did his paint job?" Ramone questioned, envy dripping in his tone. "Stop looking at him like that, Flo!" he then snapped at his wife. "It's just Mater!"
"I know, shugah, but I'm just happy for him. You're the only car for me," she reassured him, touching his bumper with her own.
The cars were still staring in shock as Mater's pridefully swinging tow disappeared into the distance. "Wow! Just . . . WOW! I can't believe that was Mater!"
"What did they do?" Red questioned in astonishment as they watched Lightning sliding slowly pass them. He sported a huge, silly grin, and his paint shone even more brilliantly than it had after Ramone had first given him a new paint job. The race car gave them as much attention as Mater had, which was absolutely nothing, as he slid on after his partner.
Like all the others gathered that morning, Sally's headlights were full of shock and confusion. "I know what they did," she said at last after Lightning was well out of earshot. "I just . . . " As the others looked at her, she asked in disbelief, "How in the world did they find room to do it in the cone?!"
The End