In this case, they decided to show us how Cars could have looked if one person animated the entire thing and loaded it with sexual innuendos built around bad puns, which include but are no means limited to comments about the size of the female character's headlights.
"My dipstick is rock hard right now."
After about 20 minutes of ridiculous puns, we finally get to the movie's plot: The main character complains that he is not a race car, while everyone else mumbles half-hearted reassurances. Somehow money is gambled on a race, shenanigans happen and predictably enough, the main character saves the day. There's no drama, no climax, not even a damned montage to explain why he's suddenly awesome at racing.
Also, the animated cars are soulless monstrosities that appear to have been rendered on a PlayStation 1:
So, the underdog wins, someone makes a joke to a chorus of laughter, the credits roll and everyone lives happily ever after, except for the poor children who learn the most important lesson of all: Adults don't care about you, and are simply trying to find ways to squeeze cash from your parents.
This, right here, is enough to turn any kid into a serial killer.