Setting: Radiator Springs and outlying areas of Carburetor County, 1960s to present

Author's Notes: This is Mater's story from his point of view. It reads somewhat like a diary, but it's actually more like a first-person account the main character would give to his friends, complete with bad language and bias. Thus the grammar errors are intentional!

Content: Mature themes, sensuality, adult situations, swearing and strong language, alcohol use, etc.

Disclaimers: All characters copyright Pixar/Disney. In fact, if anyone wants to take any element of this story and run with it creatively (art, writing, etc.) you have my permission.

Dammit! I stood gaping in horror as the dust settled thickly on my exposed engine, where my hood should have been if I hadn't been careless enough to lose it two decades ago. Real slow-like, I lowered my towing boom in disappointment. The smell of scorched rubber from Lightning's peelout hung around me in the air and the yellow parking boot I'd just wrestled from his tire lay uselessly on the ground. McQueen himself was tearing down the highway, and Doc's eyes moved directly from his receding form to my guilty expression. I expected him to clear his throat and wait for me to offer an explanation, because it was hardly like I'd never been in a situation like this before. Behind me, I could feel the eyes of the other townsfolk boring holes through my already rusted frame. Go ahead, genius. Tell 'em how ya screwed up this time.

"Uh…" I stammered, trying to produce the words they were anticipating, "maybe I shoulda, uh, hooked him up to Bessie an' then, uh, then took the boot off." I shot Doc an anxious glance. He didn't roll his eyes like I thought he would, but I knew he was right mad about it. He just kept…looking at me, silently condemning me. I slumped on my frame, hoping everyone was pleased. I'd just taken the fall for letting the prisoner escape, and nobody was even surprised.

"It's okay," I sighed, "I'll just hitch myself to Bessie an' we'll have a new road one way or another." I wasn't trying to sound at all sarcastic; I truly meant what I said and I don't promise things I'm not really fixing to do. I'm not supposed to pull the paver no more on account of some engine problems, but I wanted to make things right again. Doc put up a tire to silence me.

"Sheriff and Sally have this one, Mater." That made it even worse, because it only proved they were expecting me to let Lightning go. Sheriff had no doubt told them about my near-miss that morning, when he'd stopped me at the last minute from springing Lightning from the impound lot in the hopes of showing him our town.

Lightning. I took one last look at the faraway red flash on the horizon. You'd never believe it if I said it now, considering how close he and I are, but at that moment I really did hope he'd keep driving away until he made it back to wherever he came from. I was sure he didn't want to be my friend, or he wouldn't have taken advantage of my naivety twice.

It always took me longer to figure things out, but by the time traffic court had been adjourned and the sun beat fiercely down on us from directly overhead as we waited by the paver, I'd come to the conclusion that Lightning had only asked me to let him tour the town I was so proud of because he thought I'd bungle things. He'd been downright counting on the likelihood that he could escape from my inept watch and hightail it out of Radiator Springs. Admittedly he might've done that too, if it hadn't been for Sheriff rolling in and dragging him off to court. Never one to give up, that racecar had waited until he was again in my care, and that time he really did escape on my watch. I guess it was inevitable.

Still, once he ran out of gas and Sheriff had me tow him back to town, I was glad to see him again, if only because I had someone to talk to once more. He was nothing but grumpy at first, but after I pressed him to tell me about his life on the racing circuit, he sorta warmed up to the idea of shooting the breeze. Just between you and me, I think he enjoyed having me there to listen, because he was right hurt when Luigi and Guido took little interest in his fame, and he seemed shocked when nobody in town recognized him. Lightning described the cities he'd raced in, the girls who threw themselves at him in waves, and the fancy hotel suites he stayed in, though he stopped once he realized I'd never been out of Carburetor County and I had no idea what a suite was or exactly what made a hotel different from the little motels we had in Radiator Springs, let alone what it was like to have folks cheering you on and expecting you to do well. I suppose it might have felt something like the night I came in third in the dirt races, but winning a free oil change and twenty-five bucks isn't quite the same as qualifying for the Piston Cup finals in your rookie year.

Filling in the silence, I told him everything I figured he'd always wanted to know about living in Radiator Springs but had been afraid to ask. Well, there were some things I didn't tell him specifically because he didn't ask, but those are the kind of unsavory bits of information you wouldn't tell a stranger anyway. Every town has its dirty laundry, and Flo's always told me you don't go about sharing harmful stories with others, or it's akin to waving a dirty shop rag in their face.

That doesn't mean I don't still think about the bad times in my past, though.