by: Meadowmufn
Rosco and Enos sat quietly in a corner booth of the Boar’s Nest, surveying the Saturday night crowd. In a small town like Hazzard, most of the action, and the trouble, on a Saturday night was at the local watering hole. Both officers made it a point to spend a few hours of their overlapping shifts on Saturday nights keeping an eye on the rowdies and by extension, protecting Boss Hogg’s business.
The two men spoke occasionally while sipping root beer, Enos sharing the day’s events from his shift and Rosco going over general Sheriff’s Department business and shifts for the upcoming week.
The Sheriff enjoyed his Saturday nights at the Boar’s Nest, as he felt more like the sheriff he used to be and less like a man who’d been bought. Plus, Rosco genuinely liked his junior officer and was proud of him, though he’d never admit that to Enos. Enos enjoyed it too. Rosco’s complicity in Boss’ schemes disturbed him, though he understood Rosco’s motivation. Still, he liked the old sheriff best, the one that used to be the best lawman in the state. Every Saturday night, he got a glimpse of that man and it made it a little easier to overlook his superior officer’s faults.
After an hour or two of relative calm, Enos excused himself and bid goodnight to the sheriff. As Enos neared the front door, a gang of leather-clad bikers entered. The apparent leader of the gang shoved the deputy aside, causing him to crash into a nearby table, showering popcorn and beer in every direction. Before his deputy hit the floor, Rosco was on his feet. “Awright! Just freeze it right there,” he shouted, pointing at the thugs. He quickly shuffled over to help Enos to his feet and then strode over to the gang leader.
Standing toe to toe with the gang leader, Rosco’s courage shrank a little when he realized the sheer size and bulk of the man. Rosco mustered what courage he had and declared, “Ahm the sheriff in these parts and the man you just shoved is my deputy. I don’t take too kindly to folks assaultin’ mah officers, so unless you wanna spend all weekend in the hoose gow, ah suggest you an’ yer gang clear out of here.” Rosco emphasized his point by thrusting his thumb in the direction of the front door.
“Well, sheriff,” the thug replied as he poked an index finger into Rosco’s chest, “you got things all wrong here. Your deputy ran into ME.” He paused and flashed a sinister smile and looked to the men on either side of him. “I have witnesses, right boys?” The gang of 6 men behind him grunted affirmation. “So, sheriff, unless you want me to pursue charges of police brutality, I suggest you let us all just grab a beer and enjoy our Saturday night.”
The gang leader walked past Rosco, his shoulder knocking the sheriff off balance. Rosco quickly recovered and his hand went automatically to his belt, releasing his handcuffs in one swift motion. He turned and grabbed the man’s arm from behind, twisting it behind his back as he shoved him into the bar. “You have the right to remain silent…” he said as he slapped the cuffs on one wrist and reached for the other. When the man resisted, Enos came alongside the sheriff to assist, only to receive a swift boot to the gut from the arrestee.
Rosco shoved the man hard against the bar, struggling to get the other wrist cuffed. A hand grabbed his shoulder and whirled him around. Before he could get his bearings, one of the thugs took a swing at his head, landing a punch squarely on his jaw. Rosco’s head snapped back and he dropped to the ground with a muffled thud. The Dukes rushed forward to check on Enos and Rosco, only to be met with flying fists themselves. They blocked the first salvo and ducked as they sought an opening to land their own punches.
People quickly took sides, most rushing to the aid of the Dukes and the Hazzard law, some outlaws siding with the bikers, and some slipping out the door and out of the fray. Uncle Jesse carefully escorted his beer through the melee to the quietest corner of the bar.
Cooter, never one to resist a good fight, got a running start and flung himself bodily at several of the gang members, flattening them in one swift motion while the Dukes scuffled with the gang leader and his lieutenants.
Enos cautiously crawled towards the sheriff, arm pressed firmly against his aching gut. The sheriff laid on his back, obviously dazed. “Sheriff?” Enos patted his cheek lightly. “Sheriff?” Rosco moaned as he slowly rolled over on to his side and attempted to get up. “You ok, sheriff?” Enos asked. “I’ve been better, Enos,” Rosco groaned. A body came flying their way and the two law officers ducked instinctively. It flew directly over them and crashed into a nearby table.
Rosco looked at his deputy, “Enos, we gotta get this under control.” Rosco withdrew his revolver and aimed it skyward. Before he could fire, a foot kicked the firearm from his hand. A split second later, the foot swung back at Rosco’s head. He ducked as Enos grabbed the assailant’s leg and pulled, toppling him backwards. He quickly scrambled away, out of the law’s reach and back into the fray. Rosco and Enos looked at each other for a brief second and then bound to their feet after the man, ducking and swerving to avoid punches and flying debris.
The Dukes had their hands full with the leader of the gang. He took punch after punch and barely slowed down, yet each of his blows felt like a sledge hammer against their jaws. After absorbing a particularly brain-rattling blow, Luke suddenly found himself held aloft unsteadily over the biker’s head. Daisy came to Luke’ rescue, or tried to anyway, by smashing a chair into the lead biker’s mid-section. The thug lost his grip and Luke careened into Bo, knocking both of them to the ground.
“Oh my gosh! Luke! Bo! I’m so sorry…” Daisy apologized, rushing to her cousins’ aid. Before she could offer a hand to help, the lead biker grabbed her. “Let me go!” she yelled, fists pummeling his chest. Hearing Daisy’s cries, Enos and Rosco abandoned their quarry and made their way through the skirmishing crowd towards her. Enos came up behind the man and tried to get him in a headlock, but the man was so tall, Enos couldn’t gain any leverage. The biker shrugged him off like he was a mosquito. The sheriff watched his deputy hit the floor with a thud.
Finally pushed past the breaking point, Rosco launched himself from atop a chair onto the man’s back, locking one arm around the brute’s neck and covering his eyes with his other arm. This tactic had the desired effect and the man loosened his grip on Daisy. Luke grabbed his cousin and tried to rescue her from the biker’s grip. Seeing Daisy caught in a tug of war, Enos rushed to Luke’s aid. With additional help from Bo, they wrenched her from the man’s grasp. Daisy tumbled forward as the biker and Rosco tumbled backwards, slamming into the bar. The force of the blow knocked the wind out of Rosco. His momentum carried him over the bar and he slumped to the ground on the other side amongst a growing mound of debris from the fight.
The lead biker growled in discontent, glowering at everyone in front of him. Everyone shrank back a bit, unsure of what the man was capable. He stepped forward and everyone took a step back. He raised his arms out to his sides and let out a primal scream of rage, tensing every muscle in his body.
“Uh oh,” Enos gulped. “I think we made him mad.”
“You mean he wasn’t already?!” Bo asked, incredulous.
The biker snorted and pointed at the cousins. “You’re dead!” he screamed, purple faced and shaking with rage.
“No. You’re under arrest!” Rosco yelled as he jumped from atop the bar, striking the thug over the head with a broken chair leg he’d found on the floor behind the bar. The behemoth didn’t move, as if he never even felt the blow to his head. He just stared straight ahead, unblinking for a few seconds. His knees then buckled and the giant crumpled to the ground as if in slow motion.
Everyone stared at the felled giant for a second, then Luke kneeled to check his vital signs. “He’s ok, just knocked cold.”
“Enos, cuff him!” Rosco ordered. The sheriff disappeared into the still skirmishing crowd as his deputy followed his orders.
Shortly afterwards, a gunshot thundered through the tavern. Rosco had recovered his revolver. The sheriff smiled in satisfaction as everyone froze in place. “Awwwwright now,” Rosco drawled. “I want all of you bikers to line up against that wall.” The now leaderless gang complied grudgingly. Rosco ordered Enos to call for backup as he kept watch on the lineup of thugs.
As Daisy and the other employees of the Boar’s Nest started the arduous task of cleaning up the place, Boss Hogg walked through the front door. Taking in the utter ruin before him, Boss let out a yell, “GAAAAAAAAAAH! Rosco!? What in tarnation?! Who did this?! What happened here?!”
Dumbfounded, Rosco stuttered, trying to think of how best to quickly explain the situation. At a loss, he looked at Enos. Enos looked at the Dukes. Finally, Bo chimed in, “Just another Boar’s Nest Saturday Night, Boss!”