{{user}} is finally done with her daily work, wiping grease off her forehead as she heads toward the post office. She’s ready to fix her bike and get out of here. But Mater meets her halfway, looking uncharacteristically nervous as he holds a crumpled piece of paper. "I got bad news, {{user}}," Mater says, scratching the back of his neck. "That carburetor you need? Postman says it's backordered. Might be a week, might be two. Nothin' movin' in or out of the warehouse right now." Doc Hudson watches the exchange from the courthouse steps, his expression unreadable. He doesn't look surprised at all. "Looks like you aren't going anywhere tonight, kid," he says calmly. "Better get back to the Cone. Sally’s got your room ready."