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"Hazzard Territory"


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Beautiful orange and yellow fall leaves scratched across the pavement of the town square rolling passed the towns folk of Hazzard County Georgia. Black cats, witches and pumpkins decorate windows, doorways and even the steps of the court house and bank. Mothers, fathers and children walked on the side walks, smiling, laughing. Down the Main Street a school bell echoed its call for the children to come back to class from lunch recess.

A boy in the Hazzard Café stood up from the booth of three others and turned on his shinny white sneaker causing it to squeak. The sound stopped short as the boy stopped in mid track bumping hard into a force standing solid as a brick wall.

Tipping his head back so he could see out from under the hood of his sweat shirt the boy had too look up alittle to meet the eyes of man he’d bumped into. When there eyes met he took a step back squaring his feet up and inhaled deeply, the eyes drilling back at him caused spiders to crawl up and down his spine. The pit of his stomach tightened and squirmed like snakes ready to fight those dark mismatched eyes. Puffing his chest up alittle under his loose fitting sweat shirt the boy raised his chin and met those eyes head on.

The Stetson that shadowed those mismatched eyes tipped forward alittle as the owner of them pressed his lips so tight he almost sneered. Chet’s nose wrinkled as he glared down at the boy standing almost toe to toe with him.

The boys three friends shuffled to stand up behind him, each of there heads bagged in the hoods of there shirts. There pants, dark deep pocketed blue jeans slung low below there hips. A mother outside the window of the café pulled her child along more quickly so they wouldn’t have to see the display of boxer shorts showing like bare skin barely covering there nakedness.

Chet’s jaw line thinned as his molars were pressed on harder, the muscles in his back turned to rock and his breathes continued evenly. The entire room fell silent, even the coffee pot on the counter stopped quickly. Time stood still, the clock on the wall ticked as the five males stood there ground.

Eyes of the room traveled from one force to another, the first a full blooded local man, built tall and solid, his hair black as coal. A dusty black Stetson cowboy hat tucked low on his head, his jacket denim and worn at the elbows with faded shoulders. His jeans fit like they were tailored to and his boots padded in clumps of something rank. A scar lined his right cheek, deep and gory below a slate grey eye reflecting the sheen of a wild bull standing guard of his ground. The other four alittle shorter in youth, there clothes reflecting brand names, silvery chains and there skin tattooed in foreign designs.

The cowboy moved first, drawing a cig out of the front pocket of his brown denim jacket and tapping it on the top of his other hand. He tucked it between his lips and shifted his weight to his other foot, the leather of his boots creaking and his spur sighing a jingle. The corner of his mouth pulled into a smirk around his cig and his eerie eyes narrowed as he moved away from the hooded teenagers taking a well worn seat at the counter.

“Look Martha, the hoods are in town.†The entire room snickered, forks and coffee cups resumed there work, a coffee cup set down in front of the cowboy and was filled with steaming hot black liquid.

“Here you are Chet.†The kind old waitress said from behind the counter smiling at the Duke boy with the Stetson on.

“Hey boys, maybe I should get you some bailing twine to use for a belt help ya’ll hold them britches up.†Chet nodded to Martha and removed the unlit cig from between his teeth to sip the cup of fresh hot coffee.

The four boys crawled back into the booth and sat with there heads down for a little while only meeting each others eyes as the string of teasing continued. After a short time they got up from the booth as one and left the café disappearing around the corner of a building just down the street.

Chet wasn’t far behind the boys leaving the café, it was time to get back to the ranch to finish up his afternoon chores. With his hands tucked into his coat pockets he made his way down the side walk towards Cooters garage, his dark eyes scanned the square and the streets. Only a couple of buildings away from the garage a pair of large colored men stepped out from a building into his path. Both of them a older broader mirror of the four boys that had been in the café.

“You like pickin’ on my boy?†The words rolled out of one mans mouth like he had a fat lower lip.

A cig came back to Chets lips followed by a lighter this time. “Tell your ‘boy’ to pull up his pants and tuck in a shirt, looks like I could lend you both some bailing twine. Ever heard of a belt?â€

The first blow rang Chet’s bell and he put his hand out to the building to stay on his feet. Like wolves on a bull the two colored men moved in on him together, shaking his head Chet ducked another swing and returned a rib cracking punch of his own. Another fist landed on his back and he kicked out low to catch one of hoodlums below the belt.

“Welcome to Hazzard @$$%^*&*!â€

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  • 1 year later...

Joint post between Chet Duke and B.L. Davenport

Walking back from the parts store, down the side street from the garage, Cooter seeing the fight, headed that way to even up the odds. "Hey what's going on here?!" The older man shouted above the crack of flying fists one of which cleaned his clock, shaking his head Cooter flung out a fist in retaliation.

Chet glanced only briefly at Cooter before getting his gut hammered by a flying fist, now that his back was covered he turned loose on the colored guy who'd swung the first punch. With the odds evened up the old mechanic and young Duke made short work of the two hoodlums and sent them packing in no time flat.

Bent foreward catching his breath Chet waves his hand at Cooter. "Thanks Cooter, I owe you."

"Nah, ya don't owe me nothin, I hate to see a man up against them kinda odds." Cooter huffed, a little short of breath himself, after the fight, he just wasn't as young as he used to be." Stratening Chet let out a heavy sigh. "I brought it on myself, I just can't stand to see all these young kids that have got no self respect. There pants hand down around there ass and they constantly got those damn hoods covering half there faces." The cowboy shook his head. "Don't get me started."

Clapping the young Duke on the back, Cooter nodded his head in agreement. "I agree with ya 100%, some of 'em even got more holes in their head's than God intended." Mimicking the younger man, Cooter shook his own head, he never thought he would see the day that these type things was coming to Hazzard, he thought maybe it was just up in Washington D.C., when he was in congress but now he could see it was coming right into his own home turf.

"Yeah, let em' stay in the big citties where they belong. You know I over heard Enos say the other day in the cafe that crime has doubled this last year alone." Chet moved to lean against the nearest building to light a half crushed cigarette and talk to one of the few people he trusted.

Cooter folded his arms across his broad chest listening to the younger man. "Doubled" The old mechanic whisled low, reaching up to readjust the ball cap on his head. "We need ta do somethin' around here before, it gets outta hand. I just ain't sure what ta do."

"Im working on it, Im keeping my eyes and ears open. Theres more then just city folk moving in on us here, we've got a different kind of crime." He shook his head again and drew on his cigarette. "I appreciate your help Cooter but I would prefer you stayed out of the path of this for now.

"Chet, I ain't gonna stand by and see hoodlums, comin in here and giving Hazzard a bad reputation." Cooter looked Chet, dead in the eye, few things riled Cooter but doing a wrong to his friends and neighbors was a sure fire way to rile him.

"You do that Cooter, but dont get involved in the crime side of it. I will handle that, this is my territory." Chet pinched out his cigarette. "Thanks again for your help Cooter." With that he walked on down the side walk heading for his truck.

Cooter raised his hand waving as Chet headed on down the street, with a deep crease frown, marring his face he turned and headed back inside to the garage, just at that moment his cousin B.L. raised up from under the hood of her car, grease smudges on her face and covering the cover alls she wore. "Hey, Coot what's doin?" Snapping out of his own thoughts, knowing BL would want to get involved he shook his head "Nothin' cuz, just thinking." He shrugged, even though B.L. had been grown up for many years, he felt like he had to protect her, and he wasn't about to let her know what was going on, she'd jump in with both feet if he did. "Well don't think so much, it looked like it was makin ya head hurt." The blonde woman flashed a smile at her cousin, before disappearing back under the car's hood.

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