MaryAnne

Boss stood watching the race, cigar firmly clamped between his teeth as he cheered on Garret and cheered for Chance's defeat. Rosco walked over. He tapped Boss on the shoulder. "AHH!" Boss turned. "Rosco! What are you doing here?' Rosco took his Sheriff badge off. "I'm givin' ya this." He shoved the badge into Boss's pudgy hand. "I'm not backing those charges against Garrett." "WHAT?! Rosco, what's gotten into you?" "I've been played as a sucker. By BOTH sides. I'm taking myself out of the game." Boss caught a glance of MaryAnne out of the corner of his eye. He looked over at her and came to the conclusion. "Her. That cousin of yours, she talked you into this!! ARGH! I wish she never came to Hazzard, messin' up my plans!!" Boss pointed a finger at Rosco. "This is treason to the highest degree! Mark my words, Rosco, this doesn't end here. Those charges against Garrett are gonna stick!" "I don't think so. Because when I sqawk and tell a federal judge in Atlanta about all this..." Rosco put his hand out, gesturing to the entire race affair. "And when I tell him how you're tryin' to force Chance outta Hazzard and railroad Garrett, it WILL end there!" "You wouldn't?!" "Got nothing to stop me! I might even go beyond just this lil' and tell 'em a few other things. Heck I'm already lookin' at about 20 years anyway...." Boss practically choked. "ROSCO!" "Course you'll wanna do better than me so....wanna go for 30?" "AAHHH!!" Boss was about red in the face at this point. "Rosco!" he grabbed Rosco by the arm and led him away from the rest of the spectators. "This is nonesense! Don't be a fool---" "I have been a fool, for a lot longer than I care to admit!" "You'd blow the whistle on every little deal I've ever done, all those deals that I generously cut you in on---" Rosco snorted. "Well I did cut you in, didn't I?" "Fer chump change!" "Awright, awright, never mind that. Point is, you'd squeal on me to save the hide of a Duke??" "Yep." "Rosco, are you nuts?!" "No. This whole thing is out of control, Boss! You can't have it all and maybe the only way you're gonna figure that out is when the US Marshalls come knocking on your door with a warrant in hand." Boss was panic stricken by this point. "Rosco... this is insane! You don't realize what you're throwing away." "I already threw it away." That made Boss stop. He looked at Rosco, not seeing a hint of doubt as to what the Sheriff was doing in Rosco's blue eyes. Boss was nearly devastated, but he couldn't risk Rosco turning on him. "If I drop the charges against Garrett....would you reconsider?" "It'd be a start...."

Rosco gulped. Fargo had listened to Brian's tirade and seemed somewhat bolstered by it. He looked at the pearl handled pistol for another moment and then lifted it upward, aiming it at the Sheriff, the barrel less than a foot away from Rosco's face. Rosco felt his limbs tingle with a sicking ache and his mouth went dry. He looked at the eye of the barrel and then at Fargo...and saw the same black depth. The Sheriff held his breath, making several last ditch attempts in in his mind to figure a way out of this...but there was nothing. He wondered if Fargo would take the request of not being shot in the face and instead just take the bullet straight to the heart, sparing Brian and later MaryAnne from the gruesome discovery. Fargo pulled back the hammer on the gun. Rosco started shaking. "Wait--" "Hold it, man," Anderson spoke up. "He really ain't worth the trouble. Even tho' this is a hick little county, he's the Sheriff and if his brother-in-law is the County Comissioner this place will be crawling with law if they find him dead. We don't need that, man....not for what we're after." "Yeah but he knows what I'm here after," Fargo countered. "He knows who I am and why I'm here." "So? You're the one that told 'em that. That any reason to kill 'em now?" "Could be. He too could try to get in my way of getting what I came for." Rosco shook his head. "I won't," he said, his voice weak. "You boys just go about your business. Just don't hurt nobody..." Fargo snorted. "I'd like to promise you that, Sheriff, but I can't." "I mean it. Listen...I'm too close to retirin' to get involved in anything dangerous. I'd like to see the sunset in my sunset years." Fargo make no immediate move to disengage the weapon and few tense moments passed. "Look....if yer gonna kill me, could ya not shoot me in the face?" Rosco asked. Fargo snorted. "Might be an improvement for ya, Sheriff." Rosco closed his eyes. "I got kin! I don't want 'em to find me that way." Fargo didn't lower the weapon any, but seemed to be hesitating. He was considering Anderson's point on the law swooping down on the county should the Sheriff be found dead. "Let 'em go, Fargo," Anderson said. "He's harmless. Yellow n' harmless. He ain't worth the bullet." Fargo stood pat for another moment, his trigger finger flirting around the curve of the set off as he thought about the situation. Finally he decided Anderson was right. They didn't need more heat on them and the Sheriff that stood before him was nothing more than a terrified old man, who just happen to show up at the wrong place at the wrong time. Although Fargo knew that Rosco knew who he was and that he was looking for Riddick, Fargo figured the Sheriff wouldn't care. Afterall, Riddick was an ex-con and by removing him from the county he'd be doing the Sheriff a favor in making his retirement years more enjoyable. Fargo loosened his grip on the gun and eased the hammer back. What the hell. Let the old coot go. Fargo tossed Rosco's pearl handled pistol off into the dark woods. "Git out of here," he said. Rosco half collapsed onto the hood of the Camaro but quickly regained his composure. He nodded, gave Brian a quick look that basically said *I owe you one* and turned, hastily walking back down the road. Fargo turned to Brian. "Sorry kid. Maybe next time." He jerked his thumb toward the Camaro, gesturing for Brian to get into the car. Anderson came up and offered additional persuasion with the business end of his rifle, if Brian needed any further persuasion. (Cue Brian!)

I'll second that! Happy New Year everyone! =)

Just a reminder folks, the fanfic challenges for this go around are due February 1st, 2004. That's about four weeks. Better git crackin'! =)

"Mafia chili?! Shuck n' jive?! Oh I think I've heard enough. My cousin, the Sheriff of Hazzard County has a shady badge is what I'm gettin' from all of this! It's probably just as well I don't remember anything right now. I don't wanna KNOW if there's ever been any schemes or anything that I've been involved with. Ugh!" MaryAnne turned away from Rosco just as Boss was coming out of his office. "What in tarnation is going on out here---AH! You Coltranes!" MaryAnne glared at Boss. "You Hoggs!" Boss blinked. "What's gotten into you??" "The truth! You run a crooked Sheriff's office." Boss blinked. "Well...a man's gotta make a dollah somehow---uh..." Boss dropped his voice a bit. "MaryAnne, what's gotten into you? This is nothing new, you know all this." "I do?! And I work for this department?" "It hasn't stopped you." Boss made a face. "BAH!" He made a swishing motion with his hand. "I don't have time for this nonesense." He turned and went back into his office, not realizing that MaryAnne was suffering from amnesia. MaryAnne turned to Rosco. "I *know* about all this?!" "MaryAnne, all of this can be explained if you'll just simmer down for a minute heah..." Rosco glanced toward Brian and Cully, looking for some kind of help but knowing MaryAnne would take all three of them down a peg or two once she got going. Cully too. And all he'd ever done was jump from stage coaches, roll cars over and jump off horses. Cully took a cautious step back giving Rosco a "sorry, cousin" expression. Cully didn't leave the room figuring he could atleast offer some moral support. But there was really nothing he could say in defense of Rosco and what the Sheriff had become. That was going to be up to Rosco himself. Although the ex-stuntman was praying for MaryAnne's memory to come back in full force....before she disowned all of them. (Cue Brian!)

"Shut up," Fargo barked at Brian. The bounty hunter walked over toward Rosco, holding the gun Brian had had before, while Anderson kept a careful eye on the situation with the rifle at the ready to be used. Rosco stood, his hand over his chin as he moved his jaw, making sure it all still worked. Far as he could tell he still had all his teeth too. Getting hit with the butt end of a rifle hurt like hell. He looked at Brian, noting silently to himself the exaggerated accent and seeing the look in Brian's eye. A Coltrane sense was telling him to follow along. Rosco looked at Fargo as the bounty hunter approached. Rsoco eyed the gun in Fargo's hand. "Uh, yeah it would appear I took the wrong patrol at the wrong time..." "Where'd you come from?" Fargo asked. He swiftly relieved Rosco of his pearl handled pistol, yanking the gun from the holster. Rosco slowly raised his left hand to point behind him. "Back that-a way." "Where's your patrol car, Sheriff?" Rosco pointed again. "You walked up?" Rosco nodded. "Saw y'all from down the road there....looked like a scuffle so I left the car and came up quietly...." Fargo nodded. "I see. Didn't wanna come in like gangbusters eh?" Rosco swallowed. "Right." "Hmm..." Fargo paced a moment, back and forth infront of Rosco. He stopped and pointed toward Brian with Rosco's own pearl handled pistol. "You know this joker?" Rosco's blue eyes flicked toward Brian. The younger Coltrane's dark eyes were pleading and there was the ever so slight shake of the head. *No...* "No. I only seen 'em around town from time to time," Rosco replied. "I see..." Anderson was getting anxious. "C'mon Allen, make up your mind. What are we gonna do with him?" "Shut up, I'm thinking!" Fargo returned to pacing. Just what he needed, the Sheriff to come waltzing in. He should have Anderson shoot 'em, leave 'em and they take the local yocal, find Riddick and then dust off the hick once that's done. Who the hell was going to care about some backwater county Sheriff? But all the same....he was a Sheriff and killing a Sheriff tended to make things complicated. Fargo paused in his pacing and looked at Rosco's pearl handled pistol..... (Cue Brian!)

...Anderson had turned to see who had joined them and then turned his head back when Fargo suddenly went down. Rosco took the opportunity to try to subdue Anderson, but the sniper turned back to Rosco and wouldn't have of it. The butt end of Anderson's rifle struck Rosco in the stomach. He then struck again, the rifle hitting Rosco's jaw and sending him sprawling back onto the hood of the Camaro. Rosco's pistol dropped from his hand and he looked to see what Anderson was going to do next and the sniper was charging toward the sheriff with the barrel of the rifle at the ready to apply a choke hold. Rosco managed to bring one foot up, catching Anderson in his gut. As the sniper's arms came foward with the rifle, Rosco grabbed hold of the gun and pushed Anderson back with his foot. The sniper was not letting go of the rifle and Rosco followed off the hood of the Camaro, now having the opportunity to pin Anderson down on the trunk of Diablo. Rosco was now trying to apply the same move Anderson had attempted, pushing the rifle barrell down to use it in a choke hold. Anderson, however, was pushing back and the rifle was held in a push-o-war between the two. If it weren't for the fact that Rosco carried around a 50something pound Basset hound frequently, he would have lost this battle at the first shove from Anderson. But the Sheriff wouldn't be able to keep up the fight. Anderson had an advantage in endurance and age, and Rosco could feel his arms start to buckle on him. Sensing this as well, Anderson held his push and then suddenly let up enough for Rosco to be thrown off completely. Rosco fell forward a little and Anderson shoved the Sheriff off him, sending Rosco failing back against the front end of the Camaro. With rifle still in hand, Anderson turned his attention to the fight Fargo was in with Brian. The bounty hunter was struggling to get some kind of leverage on Brian but with a knee against his chest and his already wounded stomach, Fargo wasn't getting far. Seeing this, Anderson took a postion so that he had everybody within sight of him. He aimed the rifle skyward and fired a shot, shattering the night.... (Cue Brian!)

Hi Millisa! Welcome to HazzardNet! Make yerself at home. Lisa

"No," a voice drawled softly from behind Kristy and Garrett. "You're not." There was no mistaking the voice that belonged to Sheriff Rosco Coltrane, although his tone was such that was rarely heard. He stood there with hat in hand, his expression both apologetic and sorrowful. "I won't let Boss do it..." (Cue Kristy n' Garrett!)

MaryAnne sensed the sudden change in the atmosphere between Rosco and Brian. She looked at the Sheriff, curiously. "Schemes?" she said. "Uh...heh, not really schemes just uh...." Rosco cleared his throat. "Uh..." "Just what?" "Uh...now look MaryAnne, you don't remember anything right now, and I don't want to upset ya..." MaryAnne suddenly tugged on Bandit's leash and marched back to the courthouse. "Jit!" Rosco did the only thing he could and followed after her. Cully followed as well. And Brian.... (Cue Brian!)

Fargo looked at Anderson with a 'what do you think?' eye. Anderson gave a shrug, which was about as much as Fargo expected. Fargo took a moment to consider Brian's explanation and figured it could have been plausible. There was one way to find out. "I see," Fargo said, the words dropping like stones. "So I got some hick trying to cash in on my hard work. First he tries to lie to me, now he tells me he wants to cash in on MY HARD WORK!!!" Fargo grabbed a hold of the back of Brian's hair, yanking his head back. "You've just stepped on a train that's a one way trip to meet your maker. We're going to find your buddy and you're going to get Riddick back for me, and after you do that I'm going to drop you off the highest cliff I can find...." Fargo pulled Brian away from the Chevy and threw him toward the Camaro, sending Brian to the ground in a heap. Anderson turned and kept his rifle pointed at the black-clad Coltrane, while Fargo took a moment to tuck the gun he had relieved from Brian into his own waistband. Once Fargo's hands were away from the gun, something sprung from behind the Camaro yelling "FREEZE!!" (Cue Brian!)

That's good, Scoot! Although I hope you're still gonna try to finish those stories. =)

Rosco, meanwhile, had climbed down from the rooftop of Rhuebottom's store and hurried down the road the Camaro had traveled. He saw the taillights of the Camaro, judging the car was about a hundred yards down the road. As quickly and quietly as possible, Rosco jogged down the road. As he got closer he could see the two men and Brian were having what looked to be a one sided conversation. He crept up quietly, pulling his .38 out and holding it at the ready. He paused behind the back of the Camaro and listened.... Fargo wasn't impressed with Brian's answer and sighed, still holding a firm grip on Brian's arm and hand. "Well now ain't we just a tough little redneck. Shall we find out just how tough you are when I snap your arm off? Do you think you can stand to have every bone in your body broken just because you didn't want to tell me where Riddick is? That's kinda stupid don't you think? 'Course I don't take you to be too bright to begin with..." Fargo nodded to Anderson and the sniper turned the butt end of his rifle around and jammed it into Brian's ribs. Brian yelped at the cheap shot and buckled a bit, but Fargo's tight grip kept the young Coltrane leaning against the car. "Now," Fargo said, "this can all be over with very quickly...you show us where Riddick is and we'll let you go back to the farm in one piece. Otherwise, they'll never find *you*...." (Cue Brian!)

Fargo pushed Brian harder against the Chevy, yanking Brian's right arm behind him and pulling up. "Oh yeah? What, you got a lil' group of friends out here, boy? Ya sit around a fire and drink piss-sh** moonshine and shoot your mouth off?" Fargo chuckled. "Yeah...I bet you're one of them. Shoot your mouth off and not have a goddamn clue of what the hell your talkin' about. And seein' as you have no damn idea what I'm talkin' about, I'm gonna tell ya. See, I'm lookin' for an SOB by the name of Riddick and he was last seen in this area. And he has some nasty wounds in 'em, wouldn't take much for 'em to bleed all over something...." Fargo looked down at Brian's hand. "Like, your hand here..." Fargo turned his grip on Brian's right hand tigher. "...now I'm going to ask you one more time about them bloodstains in the grass my partner here saw. Don't tell me you don't know nothing about them, because I hate it when people lie to me...." (cue Brian!)

The business end of Anderson's rifle suddenly jabbed Brian in his left shoulder. "I'm afraid that's not going to do you any good," Fargo said, holding his hand against Brian's right shoulder. "Ya see most of the Tastee Freeze's in this part of the country close at 11pm. We're just a hair past that now..." Fargo suddenly grabbed Brian by the front of his shirt and turned him to face the back roof panel of the Chevy. Brian was immediately relieved of his pistol and held against the car. "And I'm afraid this isn't going to do you any good either...." Fargo looked at the gun in his hand and then at Anderson. "There's blood stains in the grass just over there," Anderson said. "That so?" Fargo looked Brian. "Perhaps Johnny in Black here knows something about that....eh?" (Cue Johnny in Bla---er Brian!)

Fargo and Anderson both gave dry chuckles. Anderson casually removed the rifle from the backseat of the Camaro and walked with Fargo toward the dark-dressed young man. Fargo paused a moment to look Brian over, while Anderson stepped slowly around the black Chevy, looking around the outside of the car and occasionally glancing inside of it. "Tastee Freeze..." Fargo said blandly. "Don't you think you should be there instead of hanging around in the woods here tonight?" (cue Brian!)

The white Plymouth Fury flew along the road heading toward Tri-County. MaryAnne had called ahead to tell them she was coming and with what she was coming with. Once she had done that, she spoke softly to Riddick, although she knew he probably couldn't hear her. "Hang on, Riddick....hang on..." Red and blue lights shined in the night as the car sped along... Rosco, meanwhile, had made it back to Cooter's garage and was cautiously looking upwards to the rooftop of the building and the building ajacedent to it that housed Rheubottom's General Store. Rosco figured to look there first. He found the fire escape at the back of Rhuebottom's and shoved his flashlight into his gunbelt before pulling himself up the ladder and shimmying upward. He made it to the landing and then climbed up the stairs to the roof top. Using his flashlight, Rosco swept the light down by his feet and investigated, walking toward the edge of the rooftop. He found a spent shell casing from a rifle. As he walked closer to the edge of the roof, he discovered where the edge of the roof had started to give way. While the Sheriff was investigating the rooftop, just a block away from him Fargo was giving orders to Anderson. "All right," the bounty hunter said, tossing the remains of the med kit back into the Camaro's glove box. "You're driving." He climbed from the Camaro with some difficulty and walked around the back side, pulling the passenger door open. Anderson put his rifle into the backseat and got into the driver seat. A moment later, the sound of two doors slamming echoed in the square. The Camaro's engine turned over and bright headlights came on. The car prowled down the road, past Cooter's and Rhuebottom's. From the roof top, Rosco watched the car as it headed down the road where Diablo was parked.... (cue Brian)

"Can you get him to the hospital awright by yerself?" Rosco asked. "Yeah." MaryAnne nodded. "Awright. Git. He's countin' on your speed behind the wheel." Although Rosco wouldn't admit it, he knew he was not suited for the job. His driving would be detrimental to Riddick's condition. "You two be careful, ya hear?" "We will. Git on..." "Awright..." MaryAnne got into the patrol car and started it up. Full lights came on and the gumballs turned. The Plymouth backed up and then swung around and sped off down the road. Meanwhile, in town, Anderson had found another trail of blood droplets that led to Allen Fargo's blue '68 Camaro. The bounty hunter was sitting in the driver's seat, the door wide open and his shirt open to reveal the three inch wound Riddick had left across Fargo's stomach. Fargo had taken the first aid kit from his glove box and was holding a piece of white gauze over the wound resting...and waiting. Anderson walked up to the car and Fargo turned his head to look at him. "It's about time you got here. Give me a hand will ya?" Without saying anything, Anderson went about assisting Fargo with the cleaning and dressing of the wound. "What do we do now?" Anderson asked, finishing applying tape to the dressing. "We're going to make sure we got 'em," Fargo said. "He could be anywhere in those woods. For all we know he's down in a ditch and dead all ready." "Good. But we're going to make sure. I'll be damned the sumb**** can cut out half my stomach and not pay for it---ow! Watch it for cryin' out loud...." (cue Brian!)

MaryAnne giggled, covering her hand over her face. She stepped away from the window and headed out of the booking room with Rosco and Cully following. A moment later the threesome came out of the courthouse. Bandit was still barking at Brian atop the Chevy and didn't cease until MaryAnne called to the dog. Bandit jumped away from Diablo and returned MaryAnne. "Good job, Bandit. Ya got 'em!" "HURUMPH!!" Boss interjected, coming between MaryAnne and Rosco. "You Coltranes!! Between the three of ya, you'll be the death of me yet!" Boss suddenly looked at Cully and did a double take. "GAH!! No, no, no, no, no!!! Rosco," He looked at the Sheriff sternly. "This is not funny!" "No it's not funny. It's Cully." Rosco grinned. The ex-stuntman nodded in howdy to Boss. "AAHH!!" Boss decided the further away from Coltranes he was, the better. He seeked his refuge in the courthouse. MaryAnne giggled. "We are a sight, ain't we?" "No," Cully said with a grin. "Rosco n' I are a sight!" He turned to Brian and offered a hand to help the black-clad Coltrane off the roof of the Chevy. (cue Brian!)

Well, there may be a challenge fic that involves a crossover at some point....but unless otherwise stated I'd like to keep the various challenges strictly within the DOH world and not have crossovers. Of course, that doesn't mean you can't go ahead and do your crossover! LOL. Lisa

MaryAnne looked up as the German Shephard came into the booking room, making a direct beeline for her. Although she was surprised to see the dog, she felt no fear as it came trotting right up to her and placing it's paws upon her lap in greeting. "Hi there..." she said, grinning and rubbing Bandit around the neck, ruffling his fur. Bandit soon dropped back down to all fours and MaryAnne kneeled down from the chair and smoothed the fur along the length of Bandit's back. Rosco was watching her....waiting...looking for that hint of recognition. But it wasn't coming. She petted Bandit and talked to him but Rosco could tell there was no recognition there. He glanced over at Brian and Cully. Flash was squirming in Cully's arms and he bent down to let the dog on the floor. Flash then made her way across the booking room floor and joined with Bandit in greeting MaryAnne. MaryAnne was enjoying the company of the dogs and looked up at Rosco. "That's Bandit and Flash," he said. "You got Bandit a few years ago in Atlanta." "K-9?" "Yeah. When they retired him you adopted him." MaryAnne looked at the dog while contiuing to pet it. She sighed. "I wish I could remember...." "Well, why don't you give 'em some commands. He responds to just about anything. Maybe you'll start to remember something that way." MaryAnne shrugged. "Awright..." She lookd at the dog. "Bandit, speak." A hardy woof echoed in the booking room. Bandit sat at attention, awaiting further commands. "Play dead." Bandit dropped to his side and lay there a moment before sitting back up again. "Good boy...." MaryAnne petted him and paused to think of another command. She looked across the booking room at Brian and Cully standing there. Although the young man in the dark clothes was her cousin, the incident with the toaster was still fresh on her mind. She wasn't mad about it but she had this all powerful urge to give the young man's chain a good yank. A mirthful look came to her face as she looked back at the dog again. "Bandit..." MaryAnne said, turning the dog around to face Brian and Cully. She paused and then suddenly commanded, "Go git Brian!! Git 'em!!" Bandit suddenly lunged away from MaryAnne and headed toward Brian.... (Cue Brian!)

Riddick's tactic of taking his fight with Fargo to the alley behind Cooter's garage had served at least one purpose. Rosco and MaryAnne were oblivious to what was going on. It wasn't until they heard the gunshots that the Sheriff and his deputy sprung to action. In the darkness that covered the town square, however, very little revealed itself to the Coltranes when they tried to investigate. In the time it took them to come outside to see what was going on, the action had moved itself into the woods just beyond the garage and town. Rosco had turned to MaryAnne and told her to go get one of the patrol cars and to bring the bright spot light with her. He then continued on into the darkness with nothing more than his flashlight and pearl handled pistol drawn at the ready. Rosco ended up following the trail of Fargo's sniper, Anderson. The Sheriff saw the blood droplets on the ground, followed them and then eventually caught site of Anderson's own flashlight within the darkness. Quickly, Rosco shut his flashlight off and ducked behind a tree and kept an eye on the light of Anderson that was several yards ahead of him. MaryAnne in the meantime had heard Brian's cryptic distress call and was bringing the patrol car down the road slowly and as quietly as possible. The bright spot light remained off, the car itself was lit only with parking lamps and she had the window down, to listen for any sounds. She eventually found Diablo and pulled her patrol car up behind it. When Anderson's radio screeched, Rosco had held his breath to listen. MaryAnne too, heard it, but was too far away to make out what was being said. When Anderson acknowledged the transmission and turned back around to back track his steps, Rosco held himself flat against the tree he was hiding behind, until the stranger walked past him. He waited until Anderson was several yards away before turning his flashlight back on and continuing into the woods. He found more blood droplets and followed them until he heard the sound of twigs snapping off of branches. He listened for a moment and then continued following the path of blood until he reached the gentle trickling water of the creek and his trail came to an end. Rosco frowned. Whoever it was that had been wounded was probably in the creek and if they hadn't succumbed to their wounds, they more than likely drowned and there'd be no sign of them until morning. He pondered this a moment and then heard more rustling sounds somwhere behind him. He turned slowly, bringing the flashlight upward to scan the immediate area. From the road, MaryAnne saw the light in the trees. Not sure if it was Rosco, or somebody else, she stood pat near the patrol car and Diablo. Brian couldn't have been too far away. Rosco listened to the noise and followed after it. In matter of moments, he came upon Riddick and Brian, the young Coltrane trying to drag the big burly ex-convict in a crudely made device that almost looked like a stretcher. Rosco immedidately put his gun away and came up to assist Brian. "Brian, it's me. Rosco..." (Cue Brian or Riddick)

"Lemme git this straight..." MaryAnne said, sitting across from Rosco in the Sheriff's office. "Boss wants Chance outta Hazzard so he can control the doctor and run up everybody's medical bills to his pleasing. As such, he had Chance's bike stolen and then Kristy Duke sweet talked a confession outta you about that whole bit." Rosco blushed and nodded. "Right." "Said confession was recorded for posteriety on tape, which the Dukes came back and bascially blackmailed Boss, and you, with to get Chance's bike back." Rosco nodded again. "Okay...now, Boss, in order to find another way to win that race and get Chance outta Hazzard, holds a fist fightin' charge against Garrett Duke, tellin' him to run the race and win or else be looking at about 10 years for assault n' battery and assaultin' an officer." Rosco nodded yet again. "Yeah." MaryAnne paused for a moment and then cleared her throat. "Ya know, cousin, if all this were horse manure, you'd be up to your eyeballs in it." "Jit...I know. But what can I do?!" "Where's that tape now?" "The Dukes still got it." MaryAnne nodded and thought for a moment.... "Well...I suppose you could always turn honest." Rosco looked striken. "What?!" MaryAnne leaned closer to the desk and explained her plan. When she finished, Rosco looked white as sheet. "MaryAnne....that's puttin' a lot on the line." "Yeah, it is...but I think that's what it's gonna take to bring everybody back in to line." She glanced up at the clock. "Ya better hurry, cousin, we don't have much time."

(I'm early but.....) Happy Turkey Day everyone!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 8) Don't eat too much (yeah right, I gouge myself, how 'bout y'all??? Khee!)

Fargo lifted a leg and kicked out with all his strength, a heavy boot hitting Riddick square in his already wounded abdomen. Riddick buckled momentarily from the blow. Fueled with nothing more than the adrenline for the fight to survive, Fargo pushed back against the wall of the building, stood up straight and drew a hard right cross point blank to Riddick's chin. "I may die a painful death you sonofa*****, but I'm damn well gonna be taking you with me!!" Ignoring the pain from the wound to his stomach, Fargo lunged at Riddick and pushed the big ex-convict back against a stack of boxes, old auto parts and rusted automobile fenders. The noise was defeaning as the two men crashed through the debris. Fargo stumbled back to his feet and in the faint moonlight saw the shell of an old car door. He quickly picked it up and threw it down upon Riddick. Fargo's wounds were now screaming for his attention. Riddick was struggling to push the metal door off of him. And Cooter was coming around the back of the building to see what was going on. The light flashed in Fargo's eyes from Cooter's flashlight as the bounty hunter turned. "Hey! What the---" Cooter hardly had a chance to finish when Fargo pushed the mechanic out of the way and to the ground, making his escape out of the alley. Cooter sprung up like a shot but didn't go after the stranger. Instead he turned his attention to Riddick. He pulled the door off Riddick and shined the light over the wounds Riddick had sustained. With no time to spare, Cooter ran back to the garage and found the first aid kit. It wouldn't be much, but it would be better than nothing. He returned to Riddick and tried to do something for his friend. "Riddick? Riddick, talk to me buddy. Who is that guy? What does he want with you??" (Cue Riddick)