Speed Racer -

Mile fifty. The tunnel section. Ace activated the S-7’s active aero, the wings flattening, the underbody glowing blue as it suctioned to the tarmac. He shot into the dark like a bullet. For three miles, there was only the hum of the turbines and the flicker of his own heartbeat on the monitor.

Rose shot through the slot, crossing the dead zone under the silent radio tower. She’d won. But she slammed her own brakes and spun the car sideways, blocking the canyon. Speed Racer

Static crackled, then her voice, low and smoky. “Antiques have stories, Ghost. Your toy just has a warranty.” Mile fifty