Luke kind of had a point about the girl that Bo liked in The Hazzard Connection. She wasn't his usual petite, feminine type. Still, Luke never tolerated any girl that Bo paid more than just passing attention to (and even those, Luke often pulled him away from).
The original of this had a different title -- Shitty Legs and Crooked Feet. This comes from the English subtitles on the episode. For whatever reason, the captioner thought that was what Luke said instead of "skinny legs and crooked teeth." Obviously they were watching a totally different show than I was, if they thought Luke could get away with saying that. Anyway, this site wants me to use clean titles, so I did.
Bessie Lou. She even has a name fit for a cow, and why Bo can't see that she looks like one too, he'll never understand. The kid has twenty-twenty eyesight and has never needed a single corrective lens in his life. Still, if Luke thought it would help, he'd take Bo to the eye doctor and even manage not to laugh at how silly he'd look in glasses. Unfortunately, it's not Bo's eyes that are myopic, it's his turnip brain.
Which has been so damn fixated on the ugly, trucker-walking, linebacker-looking broad (Jesse would wash his mouth out with lye soap for that word, but if there was ever anyone who deserved the label broad, it was this Bessie Lou) that even demolition derby driving and stolen engine recovering haven't shaken it. Stupid, pathetic and just plain wrong as it is, Bo wants Bessie Lou.
Luke's never been able to deny the brat things that make him happy. His damn cheery attitude keeps the whole of Hazzard a much more tolerable place to be confined to than it otherwise would be. So when Bessie Lou turns out to have a sister that's actually pretty cute, Luke reckons he can put up with a few hours of a double date.
Except he can't even concentrate on this Mary Ellen girl, what with the way Bessie Lou is shoving all her ugly right up into Bo's face. How in hell can his cousin not notice the crooked teeth when they're just about biting his lower lip off over there? Luke can see it all too clearly from ten feet away, where he's letting his lips explore Mary Ellen's ear. Which is as sufficiently cute as the rest of her, but nothing near distracting enough.
Fortunately, afternoon dates don't include sex, not since they've gotten too old to take their chances down on the shores of Hound Dog Lake. A little kissing, maybe a hand inside a shirt or cruising up the soft inside of a leg, and it's time to go on home for dinner and chores. He's been subjected to Bessie Lou just about devouring Bo's face, but at least he doesn't have to learn whether she's a squealer or a grunter (he'd bet on the latter, though).
It's only ten minutes from the town square to the oak tree in the middle of the farmyard, at least the way Bo drives. Ten short minutes and the two of them manage to start the Battle of Appomattox, right there in the General Lee. Not the halfway good natured banter of the last couple of days. This here is fixing to be a serious bloodletting, what with the way Bo slides them off the road a good half mile before their driveway, barreling across their own back fields until they're officially far enough from everything important – except each other. Out of the car and into each other's faces in front of the steaming hot hood in record time.
"What in hell is your problem, Luke Duke?" Spit flying out of Bo's mouth onto Luke's cheek, hands shoving at his shoulders. The fool has never learned not to start things that only lead to him getting hurt before they're finished. "Why do you hate her so much?"
Hate her? He doesn't hate her. She doesn't matter enough to hate, not unless Bo winds up settling down with her or something. Since that isn't going to happen, Luke laughs at the notion of hate. Laughs some more at Bo's dramatics, all red-faced, finger-pointing and accusing Luke of caring enough about some ugly broad to hate her.
"I don't hate her, Bo. Heck, she ain't half bad. If you want to date a man."
Between the laughing and telling the truth, Luke pretty much reckons on getting hit. Which is fine. It'll give him a chance to hit back, knock some damn sense into his cousin, help Bo figure out that if he's going to get all soft in the head about a man—
Blissful pain in his cheek, stopping the thoughts right there. Adrenaline pumping, familiar feeling, and for once he just embraces it. No intentions of pulling the punch to Bo's chin, but winds up softening the blow anyway. Never could seem to let himself hit his cousin full force.
All the same, Bo winds up slamming into the ground, hard. On his back, mouth gaping for air.
"Luke," he hollers with what little breath is still in his lungs. All anger and false bravado, a valiant attempt to cloak the way he hurts.
"Damn it, Bo," comes out close to whisper volume. "Get up here." Offers his hand like the gentleman his uncle tried to raise him to be. Bo's face reveals a mess of emotions as he mulls over the idea of rejecting Luke's offer. Finally he takes hold, but instead of letting himself be lifted, he yanks Luke downward.
It wouldn't be hard to stand up through the pull. Luke has all the leverage to Bo's none. But he reckons the dirt's where he deserves to be, right down there next to his doubly-wounded cousin. So he lets himself fall, but keeps most of his weight from landing on Bo.
"Why do you got to be such an ass?" Funny how that sounds sort of wet, like somehow there are tears in Bo's mouth. He rolls off his cousin and sits back away from him. Figures they both need the space.
"How can you like being with her, Bo?" Luke's the smart one. He ought to be able to prove that Bessie Lou is just wrong for Bo, but he can't figure out how. So he's back to— "She ain't very feminine."
"What do you care, Luke? Shouldn't make no difference to you if she is or if she ain't, it ain't like you're the one that's with her."
Luke sighs and offers his hand to Bo again. His cousin plays nice this time and lets himself be pulled up to sitting across from Luke, their ankles just about intertwined with each other.
He's too smart for his own damn good. Because that thing he's been avoiding thinking about is a fully formed thesis in his own head; a repeating refrain that he can't seem to shut up.
Bo can date as many girls as he wants. But if he's going to go for a man, it ought to be me.
He must be crazy.
"Bo," he says. Careful here. "She's as big as me."
"Bigger," Bo informs him, helpfully.
"All right," he concedes. "What does it feel like..." This was a stupid line of discussion to start. Now he's got to finish it. "Holding her or…" That's enough. Bo's got to have picked up the idea.
"I don't know, Luke. What does it feel like with Mary Ellen?" Bo's temper's about to get the better of them both again.
"It ain't the same thing," he tries to explain. But he's a fool. There are no right words, and even if there were, Bo wouldn't understand them. He's more of a tactile kind of a guy; hearing doesn't mean half as much to him as feeling. "Bo," he says, maybe as a distraction more than anything. He's pulling himself up to his knees, and the last thing he needs is his cousin flinching away like he expects to get hit again. "Is being with Bessie Lou… does it feel like…"
His timing must be off, he expected he'd have time for that one last word before his lips meet Bo's. Doesn't work out that way, which winds up as much a surprise to him as it is to his cousin. Quick little meeting of the lips, hardly more than a peck, really, and he backs off. Braces himself because there's no way Bo's not going to come back swinging.
Except he doesn't.
"I don't know," Bo answers, like he's really thinking about it. Shoot, he must be working it over in his mind, the way his eyes are unfocussed. "You didn't give me enough time. And you ain't sitting close enough. You got to lean on me more, maybe put an arm around my neck. Then I'll know."
It's not nice to laugh, but Luke does anyway. Then, before Bo can get mad all over again, he softens it with a kiss.