"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，比赛就要开始了。”麦坤坐在漆黑的车厢里无聊地自言自语。今天就是活塞杯冠军赛了，麦坤正努力找回最佳状态。

“集中注意力，速度，我就是速度！”麦坤调整状态。

全国上下，所有的汽车都暂时关闭自家的商店，到最近的电视机前观看这场世纪盛况。

达伦和鲍勃在直播室等候比赛开始，达伦说：“鲍勃，洛杉矶国际赛道上聚集了将近30万辆汽车！比赛的门票太热销了，简直比炎炎夏日下的黑色皮座椅还热。”

赛场的灯光下，路霸显得自鸣得意。他的身边围满了记者和摄影师，所有人将目光投向他。

“路霸!给我们看看你的雷云！”记者们呼喊着，“给大家炫一下!太酷了！”

“哈哈哈，想知道天气预报吗？”路霸自吹自擂，“我还是给大家预报一下吧：百分之百是电闪雷鸣！咔嚓——咔嚓——咔嚓！大伙给我一起喊——咔嚓！”

此时，麦坤还在拖车里，对外面的喧嚣充耳不闻。他发动了车子，“胜利”，他一边嘀咕一边想象自己飞驰在赛道上，把路霸和车王狠狠地甩在身后。“一个冠军，两个手下败将！速度，速度，速度！”麦坤回想起和莎莉一起兜风的场景以及从轮井俯瞰的小镇全景。天哪，简直太美妙了！他笑了笑，脑子里又浮现出小镇里可爱的居民。我还没和板牙说再见！想到这里，麦坤感到遗憾。

“闪电，你准备好了吗？”麦克对麦坤喊了一声，随即打开 车门。

麦坤忽然睁开眼睛。我在想什么？现在可不是做白日梦的时候，我还有比赛要赢！他抖擞身姿对麦克说：“是的，我准备好了！”

麦坤从拖车上走了下来。眼前，数以万计的粉丝们已恭候多时。他们发出震耳欲聋的欢呼声。当成百上千的摄像机闪过他脸庞的时候，麦坤眯起眼睛。

“谢谢你今天做我的维修团队。”麦坤对停在大油箱旁边的麦克说。

“尽绵薄之力罢了。”麦克回答。

赛道外看台上，一群不同颜色的车辆飞驰而过，车形摆出三个大字：活塞杯！

直播室里，鲍勃向大家解释这场比赛将是车王的最后一场 比赛。

“路霸绝不会让车王赢得这场比赛，他会全力以赴非赢不可。”达伦接过鲍勃的话说。

“麦坤出场了！”鲍勃激动地说。赛场的大屏幕上，麦坤已经来到起跑线。“消失了整整一周，闪电麦坤奇迹般地出现在一个叫水箱温泉镇的偏远小镇。”

“重要的是，”达伦轻声笑着说，“麦坤换上了白胎壁轮胎。”

路霸走上赛道，停在麦坤旁边，展示着身上炫酷的雷云图案。“咔嚓——咔嚓！”他高声大笑，“老兄，你都去哪里了？我有点孤单，没有人跟我玩……除了岱诺可的人。”

麦坤饱受煎熬地听着路霸在一旁唠叨。他的思绪又开始飘荡，他回想起和莎莉一起在山路间奔跑，回想起漂亮的保时捷停在瀑布前。莎莉那天真漂亮！他想。

这时，绿旗挥动，比赛正式开始!路霸和车王像子弹一样冲出起跑线。

麦坤从回忆中醒来，大叫一声：“看我的！”嗖的一下，麦坤紧追其后。两圈过去了，三人你追我赶，每个人都朝着第一的位置进攻。

赛场上，路霸冲过来撞向麦坤。达伦冲着话筒喊：“噢，路霸用车门撞了麦坤！”紧接着，路霸乘胜追击，将麦坤甩在后轮甩起的烟尘里。

“路霸今天不会给麦坤好果子吃了！”鲍勃说。事实确实如此。尽管麦坤鼓足了劲想赢，但他很难把注意力集中在比赛上。他的思绪不停飘荡。就在刚才，他又开始回想和莎莉在山路间兜风的情景——他甚至清晰地记得莎莉是怎样溅了他一身泥水，而且……

一道墙！

他猛然回过神，及时避开可能发生的碰撞。但是，由于转弯过猛，麦坤滑出赛道并溜到内场的草地上。看台上的车迷都惊呆了。

路霸奸诈地笑了起来。他通过无线广播对自己的维修团队说：“今天就看我和那个老家伙了，麦坤肯定是没戏了！”