MaryAnne

Rosco watched as Brian left the ring and he gestured to Cully to go give Brian a hand if he needed it. Cully nodded and followed after the young Coltrane. Medical personnel carried Riddick out of the ring and Rosco waited several minutes, allowing a sufficient intermission to pass before he climbed up into the ring. He stood wearing his uniform shirt untucked and unbuttoned over his white t-shirt. Over all that was his uniform jacket. Obviously the look wasn't as intimidating as the spit n' polish image he had tried to maintain when he first arrived. But he wasn't worried about that right now. Instead there was another round to go, although he was a little apprehensive about this one. He had watched Min's fight against Chet and the Sheriff was thinking where one Duke didn't get him, perhaps another would. As the only woman in the contest, Min Duke had certainly proved her worth in that round. "Awwwwwwright, Min, ya Duke Hellcat. I know yer out there..." His blue eyes scanned the crowd....

Doc and Brian both have good points. The Tough Man contest would have been just as effective had it not turned into the near slaughter-fest that it did. However, as Brian pointed out, writing and choregraphing fight scenes is not easy and having a little exercise to practice that isn't a bad thing. I just think the malice factor could have been left out. Let it be known that I'm not being a hypocrite. I....er rather Rosco....took part in all this too and apologize for any actions that were above and beyond what was really called for. But when Rosco signed up for this thing he was signing up thinkin' this was gonna be show of skill and strategy of fisticuffs. Which was the only point Rosco wanted to prove. That he could hold his own in a fisticuff. Anyway, that's my two cents. As for finishing this thing out, I think Brian's right. It's come this far, it may as well be taken to the end. MaryAnne

Nice job on the car! How long did it take you to complete the restoration? Did you do it all yourself or did you have some assistance? (ie, a body shop?) Welcome to HNet.

>Feel free to say what you will...just remember this a family site. < Family site?! BAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAA!!! Hey everybody let's beat the %*($! out of each other but be careful of your comments this is a family site!!! Sheesh.

Rosco heard the rumble of the Camaro as it pulled away. He turned breifly, watching the taillights fade down the road. Knowing Diablo was still parked there, Rosco walked back to retrieve the Chevy. He had a feeling they were gonna need all they could get to fight these dudes, save Riddick and get Brian back. Meanwhile, at the hospital, MaryAnne sat in the waiting area just outside the emergency room. She had heard nothing from the doctor's on Riddick's condition and in all honesty, wasn't figuring on hearing much for awhile anyway. It was truly something that the man was still alive when they wheeled him into the emergency room, so naturally the doctors were working feverishly to save him. They were not about to stop and give MaryAnne a play by play progress report. So MaryAnne sat, having no idea that Brian was now a captive of Fargo and would be used as a bargaining leverage to get Riddick back. All she could do was sit and pray that Riddick would pull through. (Cue Riddick or Brian!)

"Well I... uh, yeah I remember. It's hell of a lot to forget! Khee!" MaryAnne hugged Rosco for another moment before he gently broke the hold and looked at her. "You had us scared! You bumped yer head 'r something durin' the twisters and when ya got back here you didn't remember any of us." "I didn't?" "No. But boy I'll tell ya, I'd rather be on the receivin' end of that tirade ya just had than to have ya not know me at all." MaryAnne didn't know what to say. She looked at Cully and Brian, who were still grinning and were approaching with Flash and Bandit. The German Shepherd's tail wagged happily, sensing the return of familiarity between his owner and her kin. "It was a hell of a tirade too," Brian said. "Figured you'd end up disownin' us all before it was over." "I wouldn't do that," MaryAnne said. "Well, no, you wouldn't but not knowing any of us you probably would have," Cully said. "The important thing now is, she's okay," Rosco said. "For which we're thankful." "Amen," Cully and Brian said.

The first round of challenge stories have been posted. Check it out! http://www.dukesofhazzardfanfic.com/Stories/ChallengeFics/index.htm

Rosco rolled on the floor, wrapping his arm around his rib and fighting to breathe normally. He closed his eyes hard, his entire face scrunching up at the pain Breyer afflicted from the kick to the ribs. "*%#@!" he spat. "C'mon, Rosco!" Cully called. "C'mon..." Cully didn't like it. Rosco looked wounded. Badly. Rosco opened his eyes and looked around the ring, seeing where Breyer was at. Hearing the Duke's laughter, and realing from the kick to the ribs, Rosco realized that trying to fight fair was more than likely going to just get him to lose his teeth. Not only was he going to have to use his police training, he was going to have use old fashioned country fighting skills. Rosco found Breyer out of the corner of his eye, judging the distance between the two of them. He rolled a little more, appearing to be mortally wounded and found his lungs were starting to work right again. Just when it looked like the Sheriff was going to stay down for good, he suddenly rolled across the floor toward the Duke. He swung a leg out and caught Breyer directly in the knee, slamming the boot heel hard against Breyer's knee cap. Breyer stumbled and tried to stay standing. Rosco kicked out again, this time catching Breyer behind the knee with the toe of his boot and knocking it out from under the Duke, bringing the young man down to the floor. As quickly as he could, Rosco sat his weight across Breyer's chest and landed a good punch to Breyer's face, hitting him square in the jaw. Another hit followed and then a crushing blow to Breyer's neck, just below the adam's apple. It was a move so unexpected that even Cully flinched. Instinctively he put his hand to his own throat and could only imagine the choking feeling such a hit could make. Rosco didn't waste any time on gloating this time. He held his fist against Breyer's neck, applying the pressure for a moment. Breyer gagged and tried to move to break Rosco's hold and leverage but the Sheriff wouldn't let him. Despite the pain in his side, Rosco stood up and yanked Breyer up by his arm. He then threw Breyer across the ring, sending the Duke into the ropes in a heap and then collapsing onto the floor of the ring. Before Breyer could recover, Rosco returned a kick to the ribs and then got down on his knees and pushed Breyer out of the ring under the bottom rope, sending him crashing down to the ground. Rosco stepped to the ropes and looked down at Breyer. "Well now bad boy... what are YOU gonna do?!" Rosco flicked the top rope with his hand and backed away to the middle of the ring and waited...

Hi Skyler, Well I'll tell ya what. I'll set up a chat date here. It would take place on AIM so make sure you have AIM. The chat feature here at HNet is not up and running yet. Lesseee.....*checking calender* Let's try for Feb. 11th starting at 8pm EST. That's a Wednesday night. Now the last couple of times I've set up chat rooms on AIM I've had technical difficulties and kept getting booted out of the room. This happened under my MaryACltrn ID, so instead, cousin Cully will probably open the doors of the Boar's Nest and y'all can show your proof of age with him. LOL. (Meanin', look for CullyDawson on yer AIM, ding a hello and he'll let ya in. LOL). I'll still be there too but I won't have to check the ID. LOL. If Wednesday doesn't work out, let me know and we'll try a different date. MaryAnne

Rosco kept the pressure on the hold, keeping his knee firmly dug into Breyer's back and pulling on the arm just enough to be highly uncomfortable for the young Duke. Rosco kept his right hand at the base of Breyer's neck, pushing down and not allowing the Duke any leverage. The crowd was getting into it, some rooting for Breyer to try to break the hold, others rooting for Rosco to keep the pressure on. "That's it, Rosco!" Cully called. "You can keep him down like that all day!" Rosco continued to concentrate on keeping the Duke down in the text book police hold. In fact it was so text book, Rosco couldn't resist giving a Miranda warning, altered for the situation though. "You have the right to remain pinned to the floor. Any further moves you make will be countered in a very uncomfortable way. You have the right to forfeit. If you chose not to forfeit....well, I can sit here with my knee in yer back all day. KHEE!"

Rosco countered Breyer's circling, turning to keep the young Duke within in his sight. "Well, ain't you kind, don't wanna hurt the old man...." Rosco let Breyer circle a couple more times before he lunged toward the Duke, grabbing him around the mid section and knocking him down to the floor. Rosco then quickly grabbed Breyer's left arm and turned it behind the Duke's back, keeping a knee planted squarely in Breyer's back and forcing the Duke to nearly kiss the floor. "I, on the other hand, ain't so particular. Now, what were you saying about forfeiting?"

Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane was no doubt the oldest participant in the tough man contest. And he was probably a fool but he had a point to make. Despite his age over his opponent Breyer Duke, Rosco made sure to show up in full uniform, sans his gun belt, as weapons were not allowed in the fight, and Lord knows Rosco wouldn't have wanted his gun to end up in the wrong hands. Although he would have to shed half of it before battle, there was something about the full uniform that was imposing to say the least. Rosco had spent most of the morning shining brass and polishing his boots, and as he pulled himself up onto the apron of the ring he hardly seemed familar to the crowd that had gathered to watch the events. Rosco stood for a moment, saber blue eyes looking across the ring at Breyer from beneath his black stetson. The Sheriff's expression was serious. He had watched parts of the two previous battles from the window of the courthouse and if those were any indication, he knew he was in for a tough fight. And if he wasn't careful, it could very well end up his last fight. But any of those thoughts were well concealed under the grim expression he wore. Before he could respond to Breyer's "old hound dog" comment, Cully was suddenly jumping up onto the ring apron. He climbed through the ropes and stood in the middle of the ring, grinning. He had no microphone but his voice would carry just fine. "Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall!! In this corner, weighing in at one hun'red and ninety pounds, from Hazzard County Georgia... Breyer, the Bruiser, Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuke!!" The crowd cheered as Cully pointed toward Breyer. "And in this corner, weighing in at an amazing one hun'red and sixty pounds, soaking wet, from Hazzard County Georgia, Rosco, the Rebel Rouser, Col-traaaaaaaaaaaannnne!!" A respectable cheer came from the crowd. Cully walked over to Rosco. "Thought I'd try to lighten things up a little bit...ya sure you wanna do this?" Rosco looked at Cully and nodded. "I still think we shoulda swapped and have me take your place." Rosco shook his head, no. Cully sighed. "Awright then... remember what I told ya. I've been in enough bar room brawls you could at least take my advice!" Rosco nodded. "I'll remember." Cully patted Rosco on the arm and climbed out of the ring. Rosco then removed his hat, uniform jacket and uniform shirt, handing the items down to Cully. Wearing just his white t-shirt, black pants and boots, Rosco climbed through the ropes and entered the ring. "Awright, Breyer..." Rosco said, looking at the young Duke, every sense alert, every muscle ready for whatever was about to transcribe. "The old hound dog is here..."

Awrighty folks, yer down to about two n' half days! I hope to see some good challenge responses in my inbox come Sunday.

Woo!! Congrats, Pendragon! No doubt you've been bustin' butt to get to where you wanna go and it's great to see it's starting to pay off. I'm also glad to know that Hazzard has, and will continue to provide, a playground for the good doctor. That means a lot to me, not so much as an author but as somebody who wants to make sure this lil' county is kept active and available to folks out there. Whether they've been here for 8 years, or 8 months, or just moved in, it'll always be a place that folks can call home. Lisa

I'll drink to that! Kheehaaaaaa!!!!!!

Scoot, I don't know if you'll see this but if you do please know that I will keep this community up an' running for as long as it takes until you can come back. I pray that you have strength to carry you through whatever lies ahead and I pray that everything will turn out okay for you. Remember you'll always have friends here and we'll always be with you in spirit. Take care of yourself. Lisa

Rosco held Shay in one arm and took his hat off with his other hand as he stared down at Boss. *Heart attack* Rosco thought. *My God he's having a heart attack!* The Sheriff didn't seem to look too healthy himself, dreading maybe he had pushed the envelope too far with his threat of quiting and had gotten Boss too stressed over it. Numb with shock and guilt, Rosco watched as Chance worked quickly to loosen Boss's vest, bow tie and shirt collar and then place a stethascope to Boss's chest and listened for the heart beat that was irratic. MaryAnne came out of nowhere and up beside her cousin. "What happened?" she asked. "I ain't sure," Rosco said quietly. "I think he's having a heart attack..." MaryAnne looked at Rosco. "Oh my Lord..." She looked down at Boss and then gently tugging on Rosco shirt sleeve. "Let's give Chance some room here, Rosco...." Slowly the Sheriff stepped back, not taking his eyes off Boss lying there and then finally looking at MaryAnne. He said nothing but a silent prayer to himself for Boss... A crowd had started to gather around once Luke came back to say the ambulance was on the way. Instinctively MaryAnne politely asked folks to step back and Luke did the same thing, giving Chance and Kristy room to work.

Yeehaww! I voted for the appropriate DOH related entry in those categories. Ya think TVLand would get a hint if say the General and Bo won in their respective categories to start airing reruns of the Dukes?? They'd pull a huge audience if they did, I truly believe!

"HIT?!" MaryAnne threw her hands in the air. "Okay! I've heard enough. That's it! Out! OUT!! All of ya, OUT!!" She made a swishing motion with her hand. "MaryAnne, wait a minute---" Rosco started to protest. "OUT!" "You can't throw me outta here, I'm the Sheriff!" "Whupdee-doo! You're a shame to that badge and uniform! I can't believe I've followed in your foot steps and am wearing the same uniform! You were one of the best Sheriff's in this state, you were respected and I admired ya and went head first into law enforcement because of you. Finchburg County asked me to join the Sheriff's department because of you and I felt it was an honor to uphold such an image! Now lookit ya, you've thrown the law book out the window, yer on the take and I wonder what some of those folks think of me! Prolly figure I'll follow ya on that too. Well guess what?! Ain't gonna happen!...." Rosco blinked. Although MaryAnne's rebuke was scathing....he couldn't help but get the feeling of deja vu. They'd had this conversation before. But more than that....she'd said Finchburg County. MaryAnne had paused to take a breath and Rosco jumped in. "You said Finchburg County." "Yeah, I did, got more honorable deputies over there than ya got here in Hazzard. Sheriff Jackson always told me he respected you and he seemed to have a genuine respect for me. In fact, one time I remember---" MaryAnne suddenly stopped short and closed her eyes, looking like she was going to pass out. She steadied herself for a moment and opened her eyes again, shaking her head, feeling like she'd just awaken from a dream. Her head pounded from her injury and she turned to the chairs that sat just below the booking desk. "I think I better sit down...." Rosco quickly sat down beside her. "What's the matter?" "Feel a little queasy...." MaryAnne put her head down for a moment and then straightened up, taking a deep breath. "Rosco...what was I just doing?" "Giving me hell." "Why was I doing that?" MaryAnne glanced at Cully and Brian, and saw the dogs were looking at her too. She looked back at Rosco. "I feel like I just woke up here....what was I giving you hell about?" Rosco hesitated. "My shady badge," he said softly. "Huh? Rosco I gave you hell about that when I first became a deputy over in Finchburg, what was I doing it again for?" "You remember?" "Well of course I remember! Don't you? Although I wasn't very nice so I understand if ya chose to forget some of that---OOF!" Rosco had suddenly pulled MaryAnne into an embrace. "KHEE! You remember!!" (Cue Brian!)

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!)