by: Kristy Duke

Silence heavily engulfs within the full and stuffy cab of Jesse’s truck as Jesse stares silently ahead at the road ahead of him, Daisy looks the same way, as I stare out the passenger door at the deep ditches that fall from the side of the dirt road. Eyeing the ditches while my thoughts fall upon the past month since Shawn has returned to Hazzard, of all that has gone wrong since he has returned to Hazzard. And yet, I’ve been able to ignore the coincidences of all that has gone on since he has returned to Hazzard; the robbery at The Boar’s Nest, Bo’s attack, and now Hogg’s house being broke into.  But after thinking of the long and boring meeting we had just attended and the slim file of information that Rosco and Boss gave us, I am forced to stare the ugly facts in the face. Before he returned to Hazzard, life had been quiet and peaceful. As quiet and peaceful Hazzard can be with Rosco’s speed traps and Hogg’s greedy plans to steal as much money he can for himself. Life before Shawn had been normal. Then on the day of his surprise visit, The Boar’s Nest is robbed, a couple of days later Bo is beaten almost to death. A few weeks later, Hogg’s house was robbed.

No one at the meeting had even suggested or thought of Shawn. After all, Shawn had always treated the law and any one in authority with respect; that is unless he was caught doing something wrong. He always was there to help anyone out in need of help. Shawn always treated people with his unique charm that made most everyone want to like him. Even upon returning to Hazzard from Atlanta, he’s been helpful on the farm, helpful to people in town. He has put a face upon that he’s the same good ol’ boy that he was when he returned.

And being the likeable guy that Shawn was, everyone was eager to believe him. Including myself.

That is until I saw Shane, Shawn’s younger brother, after the meeting and had made a casual statement about how he must be thrilled to see Shawn back in Hazzard. Only to learn that Shawn has only been out to the old farm once, the day after his return, to demand half of the farm so he could sell it for money; which had started a fight between the two of them until Shane had threatened to call the Sheriff. Shawn had abruptly left after the threat to not call or show up after that. Leaving me to wonder where Shawn went when he said he went to his brother to work on his car, to get to know him again, to hang out with his kids. Where he went and why he lies to us about where he is going. Where he is now that he had claimed to be at Shane’s house to watch his kids while Shane and his wife was at the meeting. . .

Continue reading →

By: Brenna “Snakelady” Dawkins (Skymouth)

Ratings: R

Rosco found himself outside the Boar’s Nest with Daisy on his arm.  Upon leaving the bar, he hadn’t failed to catch Luke’s eye and knew the warning for what it was.  As if he could ever do anything to hurt Daisy!  Dusk was upon them and Rosco could tell already it would be a beautiful sunset.  Which gave him an idea.

”Daisy, ah ain’t got much money to take ya out someplace fancy… let’s face it, ah didna think ah’d win.”  His eyes looked away from her shyly.  “Um, thanks fer makin’ Boss take mah ticket.  Ah’m not sure why ya did that, but ah’m awful glad.”

Daisy smiled and leaned in a little to hug him.  “It’s okay, Sugah.  Boss needs to know you shouldn’ cheat charity none.  An’ besides, you won fair an’ square!”

Continue reading →

by: Margaret

He expected trouble. There was no avoiding it. There was no running away from it.
And as of this second, he had two choices. He could either wrap everything up, do away
with Patricia, and abandon the project all together while begging for mercy from the
Secret Society… or, he could stand firm, take the onslaught on the chin, and redouble his
efforts at making his goals come true regardless of the Society’s general dislike. It was
not a difficult decision for him to make. He was not one who begged.
The Smoking Man pulled out a carton of cigarettes and methodically made his way
through the five packs inside the box. It was the only physical sign of his well hidden
anxiety. Other than that, the emotionless features on his face and his silence portrayed the
image of a stoic man unaffected by his recent failure. He sat down in his plastic chair
behind his makeshift desk and waited for her with almost Zen-like calm. He did not have
to wait long.
The clanging heels of Madame Muriko’s Bali shoes against the warehouse’s hard, tiled
floor signaled her unmistakable arrival. He heard her flustered voice chew out several
soldiers in the hallway, and soon after that, she was at his door. She was still in her
impeccable silk suit, with her hair put up in a bun. Her dark-toned face flushed red with
dissatisfaction. She stared at the calm man in front of her with his cigarette between his
fingers and his poker-style stare.
“There are two rules in our profession, assassin,” she finally said in a low, calm voice.
“When it comes to a kill, never get personal and never get creative. Last night, you broke
both rules! Why didn’t you just have the two video men shoot Bo and Fox and throw their
bodies in the lake?”
The tone of her voice was accusatory, like a mother at an angry child. The Smoking
Man remained silent for a spell, nonchalantly sucking away at his Marlboro stick. “I had
my reasons,” he finally said with an almost robotic response. “Fox Mulder has been a
thorn in this organization’s side for over six years. I thought his death should be…
memorable.”

Continue reading →