Prologue

Emma's beginning

In London, England, there lived a Family of sports cars. The Family, put nicely, were upper classmen, and, not so nicely, rich snobs. The Father, Richard, was a schoolteacher. His coat of paint was charcoal gray. It was no nonsense with this guy; he never spoke unless it was important. Every morning, he got up, changed his oil, and had breakfast with his wife, Abigail, and his Daughter, Emma. Then he'd leave for the Privet School he taught at.

Abigail was very stuck up, just as her husband. Her coat was silver, and she worked at the library. She would give her Daughter and Husband their breakfast and leave for the library, leaving Emma to get ready for school by herself. They dragged her along to numerous things, like parties, operas, meetings, you name it. Emma never liked any of them. Her parents were never really there for her. They never let her have much of an imagination.

Emma, however, was not anything like her parents. Unlike them, she loved to get down and dirty; she wasn't afraid to get her tires muddy. She really enjoyed the wind in her face. She would take the long way home from school. She drove through any and all puddles in her path. She loved racing more than anything. But whenever she told her parents, they'd laugh, shout at her, or not respond at all.

Eventually, Emma got tired of her parents running her life. So she left her house one day, but rather than going to school, she drove off toward the hills. She left no note, and wore a special film on her tires that were designed to leave no tracks. She loved her new freedom.

"This is great," said she, "My own freedom." An SUV saw her.

"Hey there," he said, "you wanna race? If you win, I'll make it worth your while." He drew a line in the dirt. They lined up in front of the line, and bolted forward. He had drawn another line and Emma crossed that one two seconds before the SUV.

"I'm gonna let you in on a secret," he said, "I run a racing show, and I determine who I'm gonna hire by racing them, since you win, sign my contract and you could one day be a racing legend." Emma placed her muddy tire on the line where she was to sign (she had no hands so she couldn't use a pen.)

-Ten years later-

Emma was now a Champion in England. She had dawned her old Black coat of paint for a white coat with pink flowers. She received an invitation to Radiator Springs for a race with people around the world. She couldn't resist. She packed her tooth brush and traveled to Radiator Springs of America.