By: Chet Duke and Hilery Davenport

Note: Second Generation Story

“Dad, hand me that pumpkin knife please.” Breyer said sitting on the porch with his father Bo Duke, his girlfriend Hilery Davenport, Luke Duke, and Amanda Drake.

“Hey Breyer, whatcha doin’ over there for a design? Anythin’ I can help with?” Hil questioned him trying to peak over his shoulder.

“Sure honey, come and stick your hands down and pull the guts outta this pumpkin for me.” Breyer smiled sarcastically and received a smack in the face by a hand covered in wet slimy pumpkin innards from his dad. Hilery sat down and began laughing. She was the only one without a pumpkin and a wicked idea come to her.

“Hey Breyer, honey, I ain’t got a pumpkin, can I have yours to carve,” she asked as sweetly and innocently as possible. Breyer gladly handed over his pumpkin; he felt childish carving it anyhow. He felt childish about the hole costume party and carnival.

“Thank ye,” Hilery giggled and took the pumpkin with pride. Within’ minutes, a work of art was being carved. It was a complex Jack O’ Lantern face starting to be made. “So, whatcha all wearin’ for the party?”

“I’m going as a vampire.” Bo said the older Duke grinned widely.

“I’m going as a farmer.” Luke said concentrating on his pumpkin. Breyer just shrugged.

“Hey um Luke, you are or um, was a farmer!” every laughed at the Davenport girl’s comment.

“I myself am going as a Revolutionary War soldier, fifer division,” Hilery said smugly. “When I was growing up I had been in a fife and drum corps for a while,” she smiled then added, “so I can play the songs for the costume too.”

“Your right, I’ll find something to go as,” Luke said laughing. Breyer didn’t care.

“I don’t like Halloween.”

“Your kidding Breyer!” Hilery yelled nearly droppin’ the pumpkin.

She was completely shocked. The young woman loved the parties and such. What was wrong with this man she called a boyfriend!?

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(*Note: I do not know when this fic was written, obviously a long times ago, probibly in late 2001. This fic was a joint effort by Hilery Davenport aka Scoot and my self Chet Duke aka Dee. Also this story is a second generation story. Enjoy…..~Chet Duke. )

By: Hilery Davenport & Chet Duke
**Dedicated to: The everlasting friendship of two authors.**

It was a rather cool autumn afternoon and Chet Duke was finishing up his evening chores before supper. A very special supper mind you, one that was a thankful reminder of a found friendship with the Davenports.
His third cousin Wyatt was helping him. They were putting the wood into a pile after chopping it because of the cold chill in the air. They were freezing their butts off. Breyer, Chet’s twin brother, was feeding the goat and checking on the few chickens they had still. Jessie was inside with her father cooking supper.
Chet buttoned up his jean jacket to conceal the warmth, Wyatt tightened the collar on his coat as well.
“Hope supper is done soon I’m starving.” Wyatt said looking at his cuz.
“I know what you mean Wyatt,” Chet said blowing into his hands to warm them.

“Boys, hurry it up, I want a fire going by the time Cooter and Hilery get here,” Bo called out to them. Supper was almost done, and the Davenport cousins would be there in a few.

“OK.” Chet hollered to his dad as he still continued to work. He stopped his work for a moment and lit a cigarette careful that his father wasn’t watching.
“Chet . . .” Wyatt said seeing the cigarette, he wasn’t going to say anything though. He knew his cousin could kick his butt. It was only a few seconds later that Hilery and Cooter pulled up.
Chet blew smoke through his nose and ignored his cousin, he knew his cousin wouldn’t quarrel with him and he wouldn’t tell Bo, his father either.

“Hi Chet, Wyatt,” Hilery said jumping out of the tow truck grinning. “Is the eats done or what,” she asked.
“Hello Hilery.” Chet said putting the cigarette behind him before she could get a chance to see him.

“Foods almost ready.” Wyatt told her.
“What smells like cigarette smoke?” She asked, but turned anyway and ran into the house to see everyone.

“If I find out ya’lls is smoking, I’m gonna tell Bo and Daisy,” Cooter said before following.

Chet watched them go inside ignoring the warning. He then went inside to start a fire as his father had told him after he convinced Wyatt to hold his cigarette which he reluctantly did. When Chet came back out, he took his tobacco product back and stuck it back in his mouth.

After about another fifteen minutes, supper was being served. There were smiles all around the table, and a bunch of laughter.

“Ya’ll remember when I first met ya’ll?” Hilery asked, laughing. “I thought we would never get along. Heck, I thought that Chet would be forever running from me!”

Chet nodded, and supressed a laugh, preparing a toast to there friendship. “Heres too all times, good and bad.” Chet said raising his glass, his mind and a few others suddenly wandered to another time…

*********************

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By: Chet and Scoot

A strange uneasiness loomed over the Boars Nest as a lady, who seemed somewhat chubby, but getting along with age walked in. Folks in Hazzard knew this woman to be Cousin Alice. She was trouble. Everybody stopped to look as she entered. The pool games stopped, the pin ball games stopped, and nobody moved a muscle. She was tough, and she was mean. Alice used to hang out with Swamp Molly who had been a friend of the late Jesse Duke.

The only person who didn’t halt was Riddick. He lounged in the darkest corner of the room. His eyes gleamed to match the cigarette he was smoking. He tapped away the ashes of the cigarette on the tray and continued his stair, like usual, he was the only one the Boars Nest allowed to go shirtless. Riddick hadn’t ever seen Cousin Alice; she looked like the usual Hazzard County pedestrian.

“C’mon Midge, I thought you said you were thirsty,” she called over her shoulder. A young woman, about 18 walked in. Her hair was short and brownish blond. Midge was Alice’s 5’7″ daughter who had the same talent as her mother – roughness. The young woman was also very tough and always wanted to find a good fight. She was glorious though. Riddick found this out when she walked in.

Still he didn’t budge, he looked at her but made no move to get out of his seat. He was lounging and it wasn’t often that anything made him get up, not even a pretty girl or a fight unless of course he was disturbed. Riddick knew she was younger than him and possibly less mature, depending on how serious a person figured. Continuing on with his cigg, drag after drag he just gazed from the dark corner.

Alice and Midge sat down at a small table and ordered two drinks. Riddick watched as a young man, who didn’t know who Alice or her notorious daughter was, let out a whistle and then a catcall. Midge, not amused got up and punched him in the face, flipping him over his chair. He was out cold.

Riddick took a drag on his cigarette and let out a whistle at the handy work he had seen, hoping that she would try the same on him. She had a nice rear end; it had turned towards him when she had hit the drunken fool.

“What are you whistling at?” she asked him walking up. She had picked up her drink on her way over and stood there sipping it while looking at him with a threatening gaze, though, it was an amused one. She found him to be handsome, and probably worthy of being an opponent.

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By: Chet and Scoot

Hilery Davenport pulled on her coat while she was looking out the window. It was unusually cold for Hazzard County, Georgia. She really didn’t want to leave the warmth and comfort of the kitchen of the Davenport farm. She was in the middle of mixing dough to bake cookies. She had been planning on handing them out to the kids at the orphanage during their Thanksgiving Party. If she’d had the choice, she would have stayed inside, but she had her holiday cookie cutters out in the barn to be stored. She knew exactly where in the barn they were, and which box they were in.

As soon as she had her coat on, she quickly walked out to the barn. The wind had been howling, so the barn, although cold, did offer some relief from the chill. Hil looked around the old building. The place was in disarray. The piles of boxes in the back were completely knocked over for some reason, and the old tool box that Cooter kept in there with his backup tools was laying open, upside down, with the tools spilled everywhere.

Hilery decided she would clean the tools up first. The young Davenport didn’t expect to see what greeted her when she picked the tool box up. She found a snow colored bird that seemed injured. Some of it’s feathers were missing, and it’s wing was clearly broken. The tool box had apparently landed on it. At first it chirped when the darkness was lifted, but then it calmed when it seen Hilery, as though it knew she would help it.

Seeing it was calm, she decided to risk picking it up so she could take it inside to call the vet. The bird hardly reacted. It cooed a little bit which made her smile. She could feel it shivering, so she used her hands to warm it gently. “Now where did you come from?” she asked, looking at it. It was beautiful. Feeling comfort in the animals trust, Hilery took it inside to get something to transport it in to the vets office.

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