The Dukes of Hazzard: The Beginning Page #9

as a simple farmer.

They should have known

that didn't smell right.

Once a shiner, always a shiner.

Race you to the General!

Hey, where y'all going?

- We'll be back!

- Don't wait up!

You know the moment in your life

when you realize you're exactly

where you're meant to be?

Hazzard's a place

where two good old boys with a fast car

can really make a name for themselves.

- Floor it, Bo. Floor it!

- Damn!

All right!

I don't understand what's going on.

Those Duke sons of b*tches!

Oh, sh*t!

Well, you dirty son of a b*tch...

Cut, cut, cut, cut.

You two sure are pretty.

Stop hanging around, you little monkey.

F***ing around is all I ever care about.

We didn't wanna hit your dog.

Was I talking to you there, circle of life,

golden hair, zebra-eating freak?

Rosco!

Flash had a little

chip wiggle, Boss.

Was I talking to you,

blueberry cobbler ass?

- Gonads scattered in a...

- Stop.

Stop it right there.

I love grease and scattered gonads, Boss.

Come on! Come here, come here.

You hide behind those pigtails

and those braces.

Come on, come on! I can take her!

You got two weeks,

then I'm sending Rosco out

to foreclose on the farm.

And you call yourself a Mason.

Yes, I do.

That's the sickest thing I've seen today.

Get this thing cleaned up!

We cleaning, Boss, we cleaning.

When you say shine, your eyes go

all buggy like a retarded dragonfly.

Hey, can I drive, Uncle Jesse?

I just got my learner's permit.

Looks like you got

a little more learning to do.

Besides that, that ain't my car.

God, you don't have to push me around

like a dirty, fat kid...

That's a scary-ass pig.

It's really funny

until you have your hand chewed off.

All right, this is just for the outtakes.

The cemetery.

You might wanna try some of that mouth

to snout while you're down here.

Come on, Flash, honey.

Let's go get some little greeny-weenies,

some Chinese schoolboys.

Oh, no, call me "Boss."

I got you, Boss, right here in my britches.

This is Rosco P. Coltrane,

production f***-stick.

Marker.

- You got all tongue-tied, Boss?

- I sure did, yeah.

Did you step in something, son,

because there's some kind of...

Help.

Oh, sh*t.

There goes my career!

It's suicide. It's suicide.

I gotta... I gotta get out!

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