RIP Henry Flatt was a morbid little episode, what with a coffin (complete with dead body) being passed from car to car like so much moonshine. However, it did have one little helpful thing: Luke's interest in Henry's daughter Gail, which started out to be pretty strong, but by the end of the episode had seemingly fizzled down to nothing. (Oh, and she wasn't a ballerina, more of a gymnast, but I figured Bo's jealous mind would see both her and ballet as distasteful, downright girly, things.)
It's an open space just full of girls, each with more soft curves and pretty parts than the one before, right up until he hears that voice from the middle of the room. There's no good explanation for how that sound stops him mid-ogle, makes him lose track of everything but the cadence of Luke's song.
Maybe it's the acoustics of the space, so different from their tiny house where none of the walls are far enough away to provide any extra resonance. Seems likely, because Bo's first thought is that singing is a private thing, shared just between him and Luke (and Daisy and Jesse, if they happen to be nearby) and nobody else. Certainly not Henry Flatt's sweet little daughter who somehow looks twelve and twenty-two all at once, and who's looking at Luke like she believes he's really picking up the city ways he sings about, like maybe he could move to Capitol City to be closer to her.
"Kiss me, if you think you're man enough." He's so busy watching Luke and Gail that he doesn't see the kid sneak up on him. Give her five years and she might be cute; right now she's nothing more than a punk that he really ought to teach a lesson to, about how young ladies shouldn't go begging for kisses.
Then again, she's a distraction, and maybe that's not such a bad thing. "Sure, why not. I done kissed all the girls in Hazzard already, why not you?"
It's not even a surprise when he finds himself flipped over and staring at the ceiling. He was actually turned upside down a few minutes earlier, when Luke started singing. Strange thing to realize after twenty-odd years and hundreds (or maybe it only seems like that many) of girls, but the song of Luke's life belongs to Bo, not some fragile little blonde ballerina girl.
Long about the time he's learned all he can from lying flat on his back while some pre-pubescent brat smiles down at him, Henry Flatt shows up again. Dang it if Bo isn't wishing all over again that the man had stayed dead.
Back to Hazzard they go, something Bo would be glad for if it could have been just him and Luke, but no, Henry's there which means Gail's got to come, too. And it turns out there's yet another guest in the van they borrowed from Cooter, not to mention the company they've got outside the van, in the form of screaming sirens.
Luke's giving him a fool's set of orders to follow, and ignoring his protests with a "just do it," which is Bo's least favorite reason for anything. But it means getting rid of Henry and Gail, so Bo's going to do what Luke says, even if his cousin is a complete ass.
"Can you think of one good reason," Luke asks as he climbs over the casket that's sliding around on the bare floor of the van. "For what we're doing here?"
"Sure can," Bo answers back over the too-close sound of sirens behind. "We're helping Henry because you're sweet on his daughter."
"All right, I'll grant you that," Luke agrees, much too cheerfully. Damn it, that wasn't supposed to be his answer. Bo should have gotten treated to a lecture about how they were Dukes and always did the right thing. Where was Jesse when Bo needed him?
"Well, while you're granting me that, remember if you don't think of a way out of this mess, we're gonna sit in jail for a long time." So forget the girl and save our necks, because when it comes down to it, there's only you and me.
"All right, all right." That's Luke's placating voice. Bo must sound every bit as testy as he feels. "I'll think of something."
"You usually do," Bo admits, trying to calm himself down. Luke's going to need his help to get them out of this mess.
Enos splits off on his own, which means it's just them and Rosco (and a dead body banging around behind them) until they manage to leave the sheriff in the drink.
Luke's laughing at the splash, or maybe it's Rosco's clearly miserable form climbing out of the car, spitting water. Doesn't really matter what the cause is, it's a smile, and Bo's not ready for what that little gesture does to his stomach. Upside down just as fast as when that brat in the youth center flipped him.
But there's still a witness: the dead man riding shotgun.
"What about the…"
"Don't worry," and that's a grin, following right on the smile of a few seconds ago. Bo's about to stop caring about the casket. "I got us an idea. Head to town."
It's the last place Bo wants to go right now, but jail is worse than temporary denial, so he does what he's told. Follows Luke's directions until they're right there in the squad room, leaving the dead guy on Rosco's Desk.
"Come on," Luke says, like there's more to this plan. Bo pretty much figured he'd come this far and then be done, but apparently there's more that the noble Duke boy can be doing to help the blonde muffin that Luke's hot for. "Let's get the van back to Cooter and pick up the General."
No, because the General is just a tool Luke plans to use to save the day for Henry and his girl, and Bo's done with that. He grabs Luke's hand and drags him back to Boss's office where this all started.
"Bo!" Yeah, he's ignoring that, slamming the door behind them and shoving Luke up against the filing cabinets.
Kiss me, if you think you're man enough.
The pint-sized brat's words from this morning are ringing in his head, fighting with the echo of Luke's voice, singing about picking up city ways.
Bo is man enough, and Luke's a country boy. Which is how them come to be kissing – not sweet, little ballerina kisses, more like roping and corralling steer – right there in the office of the County Commissioner.
They can't stay; the body out there in the squad room could still land them in prison. But for the rest of the day, as they are saving Henry's neck (and their own) Luke doesn't give Gail a second glance. He'll never sing for that girl again.