- Look alive!
The reflexes are the first to go.
(yelling)
All right, Guido, turn up the heat!
- Okay!
- Whoa, whoa!
(yelling) (thudding)
(engine revving)
(screaming)
(coughing)
- This ain't asphalt, son, this is dirt.
- Oh, great, what do you want?
You here to gloat?
- You don't have three wheel brakes,
so you gotta pitch it hard, brake it loose,
and just drive it with a throttle.
Give it too much,
you'll be out of the dirt and into the tulips.
- So you're a judge, a doctor, and a racing expert.
- I'll put it simple.
If you're going hard enough left,
you'll find yourself turning right.
- Oh, right.
That makes perfect sense.
Turn right to go left.
Yes!
Thank you!
Or should I say no thank you?
Because in opposite world,
maybe that really means thank you!
(engine revving)
(scoffing)
Crazy grandpa car.
What an idiot!
(sighing)
(engine revving)
Turn right to go left.
(humming)
(engine revving) (yelling)
(yelping)
Ow!
(groaning) (creaking)
(thudding)
(screaming)
(tractors mooing)
- Sneak through the window!
(gasping)
- Sneak through the window!
- What?
- When a window opens, take it!
(engine revving)
Woo!
(triumphant music)
- Whoa!
- Yes!
- Whoa!
I made it!
- All right!
- [Cruz] Woo hoo hoo hoo hoo!
This is beautiful.
I can see why Mr. Sterling said you wanted a train out here.
As soon as this thing's booted up,
we'll get you on the treadmill and I'll track your speed.
- What, no!
The whole idea is getting my tires dirty.
Real racing!
I'm not driving on that thing
when I've got the sand and the whole earth.
(machine beeping)
- Oh, okay.
- Luigi, let's do this.
- Welcome, racers, to Fireball Beach.
Historic home for today's great test of speed!
Our finish line will be the abandoned pier in the distance.
- [Lightning McQueen] All right.
Quicker than quick, faster and fast.
I am speed.
- That is great self motivation.
Did you come up with that?
- Yeah, I did.
- On your mark.
Get set.
Go!
(engine revving)
(triumphant music)
(engine revving)
- Woo hoo hoo hoo!
There you go!
Felt good!
Hey, what was my speed?
- I don't know.
I can only track you on the treadmill.
- No treadmills.
- Oh, what about Hamilton?
- [Hamilton] Hamilton here.
- Who's Hamilton?
- My electronic personal assistant.
You know, like on your phone.
You do have a phone, don't you?
- Race cars don't have phones, Cruz.
- Hamilton, check. Mr. McQueen's speed and report it.
- [Hamilton] Tracking. (phone beeping)
- I'll stay as close as I can.
Your suit will transmit your speeds to Hamilton.
- Fine, whatever.
(lazy music)
All right, one last chance to try this before it gets dark.
Now, you're gonna take off slow to let your tires grab.
- Yes!
- And pick a straight line on hard sand
so you don't spin out!
- Uh huh.
- And all the crabbies have gone night-night!
- Mr. McQueen.
- All right, let's go again.
- [Luigi] And go.
(engines revving) (triumphant music)
- [Hamilton] 150 miles per hour.
175 miles per hour.
196 miles per hour.
- [Lightning McQueen] Woo hoo hoo!
All right, finally, ya made it!
Congratulations.
How'd I do?
- You topped out at 198.
- 198, that's it?
- Still slower than Storm.
(machine humming)
- Wait, wait, who was that?
- I put McQueen in there.
Give you some real competition.
(laughing)
- [Smokey] This is where we cut our racing teeth.
- In the woods?
- By the way, no lights.
Instinct only.
(cheering) (triumphant music)
(yelling) - Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa!
(yelling)
(cheering)
(screaming)
(yelping)
- Whoa.
Yeah!
Woo hoo hoo!
Woo hoo!
(triumphant music)
(laughing)
All right!
(engine revving)
Woo hoo hoo hoo!
(upbeat music)