The Dukes of Hazzard Page #3

- She's my cousin.

- Hopefully you're kissing cousins, right?

- Come again?

- Son, all I'm really trying to ask you...

...is if you shuck her corn.

Now, there are certain things you just

don't say to a Duke about another Duke.

I'll shuck your corn!

Excuse me a second.

Pick him up! Pick him up!

Hey, hey. Can I get in on this?

- Yeah.

- Sure.

Oh, buddy.

Here we go.

Fifty bucks on the Dukes!

- That makes two, Luke!

- Attaboy!

Hey, Billy Prickett!

Careful, Bo-Bo.

Don't hit him. That's A.J. Foyt!

- Really?

- The fourth!

- Hey, can I hit this guy?

- Kill them all!

- The ribs are greasy.

- The beans are cold.

Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane.

Closest thing to law enforcement

in Hazzard County.

Rosco's been after the Duke boys

since they started walking.

Of course, some people say

the boys' first steps...

... landed right on the sheriff's

last nerve.

Dukes. Just once you two

ought to try leaving a place...

...in better shape

than it was when you walked in.

Oh, I think your boss can afford

to replace a few broken beer mugs.

I heard there was

a little incident earlier...

...concerning a certain crappy

orange hot rod out at the Miller farm.

Y'all really upset some

of them construction boys.

When I got there, they were not being

gentle with your beloved piece of crap.

What'd you do, Rosco?

I can't say she's gonna be in real good

racing shape for the rally this weekend.

You watch yourself, hillbilly boy.

Come on, boys. My shift's over.

I'll take you over to Cooter's.

Come on.

Jefferson Davis Hogg...

... the meanest man

in Hazzard County.

He's canny as a fox,

tough as a badger...

... and crooked as a hillbilly's smile.

Well, Rosco.

I see you have redecorated.

Interesting style. What do you call it?

- Well, sir, the Dukes...

- The Dukes.

I had a feeling.

I've got some important things

happening here this weekend.

- Yes, sir.

- Are you gonna take care of the Dukes...

...or am I gonna have to make

other plans?

I'm on top of it, Boss.

That's what I'm afraid of.

- You ready?

- Is it bad?

Not good.

Hell, this is worse than the time

you sunk it in the Tipton Swamp.

Mostly cosmetic damage,

right, Cooter?

- Mostly.

- Yeah.

- He's gonna be ready for the race, right?

- Race? Come on, Bo.

I mean, the General doesn't race.

The General erases the competition.

Who does this?

It would make a nice hat or a slipper.

You know what? Just leave the General

here with me. I'll see if I can fix...

I'll have it up running in no time.

Meanwhile, you boys take my truck.

What if you need to tow somebody?

If I can't "toe" them, I'll just finger them.

You know what I mean?

Close one. Even shell-shocked,

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