Enos and Cletus sat tied together in their chairs. They were back to back, tied up, and gagged. They watched the four people walk in, and they watched them leave with Luke. Once he was sure they were long gone, Enos nudged Cletus. Cletus perked up, and Enos gestured to the CB on Rosco's desk. Cletus nodded, understanding Enos's plan. They scooted over to the desk, just close enough for Enos to get his face level with the microphone.

He leaned close to the edge of the desk, and used the corner to pull his gag off. He set his chin down on the button, and talked loudly into the CB.

"Sh-sheriff! Uncle Jesse! Mr. Hogg! Anybody, help, Hazzard law office!" Enos exclaimed.

"Enos? What in blazes's goin' on over there?" Cooter replied.

"Tied up… th-they came… took Luke… please help!"

"What's goin' on here?" Rosco asked.

"Trouble at the courthouse." Cooter explained.

"What about Luke?" Jesse asked.

"Could y'all just come to the law office and help us?" Enos pleaded.

"We'll be right there." They all said in unison.

Cooter, Jesse, and Rosco all arrived at the law office. After finding Cletus and Enos tied up, they became instantly worried. Rosco untied them while Jesse and Cooter headed downstairs. Upon seeing Bo lying on the floor, they both became quiet.

"Oh no." Jesse gasped.

Cooter ran to his friend's side, and knelt down next to him. He picked up Bo's arm, and felt for a pulse. He let out a sigh of relief upon finding one.

"He's alive." Cooter said in a relieved tone, turning to Jesse.

Jesse walked over, and knelt down next to him. He touched Bo's shoulder. He was, of course, unresponsive. The sizable pool of blood flowing out of Bo's mouth didn't bother shrinking. They tried to turn him over. Bo's eyes flew open, and a scream caught in his throat.

"Bo? What's wrong?" Jesse asked.

"B-back… hurts." Bo answered weakly.

Rosco appeared in the stairwell.

Jesse turned to him. "Call an ambulance."

Rosco nodded, and ran back up the stairs.

Jesse and Cooter gently turned Bo over onto his back. The whole right side of his face was covered in blood. He fell into a coughing fit, sending more blood out of his mouth.

While Bo was well on his way to the hospital, Rosco resumed his duty out on patrol. He was out driving a backroad. It was a quiet, peaceful afternoon. He didn't think anything could keep him out there for too long, he found himself to be wrong.

A few miles in, there was a downed tree blocking the road. He got out of his patrol car, and went to inspect the tree. It'd been hit by something, like a large rock or another tree. He continued to look it over. Near the point of impact were four long, deep gashes. Rosco ran his fingers over them.

Well, Reverend, Reverend, please come quick

He walked farther into the woods, becoming more and more nervous with each step.

'Cause I got somethin' to admit

What was down here? What had caused that much damage to a full grown, healthy Georgia Pine?

I met a man out in the sticks

Of Good Ole Miss.

He drove a Series Ten Cadillac, and wore a cigar on his lip.

Rosco found more scratched trees. On the ground were hoofprints, a sort of staggering gait. There was blood spattered here and there, all of it on fire.

Don't you know the Devil wears a suit and tie

I saw him drivin' down the sixty-one in early July

White as a cottonfield, and sharp as a knife

I heard him howl as he passed me by

He watched as the hoofprints slowly turned into human footprints. The Devil went down to Georgia, he thought. The Devil went down to Georgia. Saint Michael the archangel, Good Lord, save me.

He came to a clearing, where he saw a figure sitting on its knees, its back to him. He could see it was trembling, and hugging itself. It sat in a pool of blood, flaming blood.

"L-Lucifer? Ah, Satan?" Rosco asked, drawing near, so he was standing directly behind it.

The figure turned its head, revealing his tear-streaked face. Fiery blood flowed from a perfectly round hole in its forehead.

"I never want to hear those names again." The man growled.

"Clayton!" Rosco exclaimed.

Clayton's yellow eyes flickered upward towards the sheriff. "There you go, that's better."

"B-but, this don't make any sense! You-you're s'posed to be dead, but now you're…" Rosco gestured to the horns protruding from Clayton's head.

"A monster?"

"Well… yes."

"When I say I wanna live my life, I mean it, I'm retired. The Devil ain't a god, he ain't immortal. One retires, another takes his place."

"Oh. How come you ain't dead?"

"A bullet can't hurt me. Like I said before, a Devil ain't immortal, we die."

"But you're hurt."

"I said a bullet." Clayton stood up, and faced Rosco, spreading his arms. "Not seventeen."

Clayton had sixteen bullet holes in his torso. His blood created scorch marks on his white button-down shirt.

"You ain't gonna… die right now, right?" Rosco asked nervously.

"Not before my time. I suspect I'll make it another sixty years, at the least."

"How old are you again exactly?"

Clayton thought for a moment. "I dunno, fifty-one, fifty-two, somewhere in there."

"Will the bullets heal?"

"Eventually. I understand that you want to kill me."

"Y-yes, I do. What you did to the Duke boys was wrong!"

"I'm aware, alas, nothing I do is right, I'm the Devil."

"But you were wrong to hurt the Duke boys! You gotta pay for your crimes. Don't you feel any shame for what you did?"

Clayton turned away from Rosco, and took a few steps towards the center of the clearing. He flicked his wrist, a ball of fire crackling to life in the palm of his hand. "Shame? I'm a prisoner of my guilt! If only I could've controlled Russel better, or if I'd burned his face off like I thought about doing, none of this would've happened in the first place."

Rosco sighed. "You have no idea how much I want to see you dead, but knowin' now that I can't kill you, I ain't sure what I'm supposed to do with you."

Clayton turned back around to face him. "May I propose a deal?"

Rosco hesitated for a moment, thinking it over. He sighed. "What've I gotta lose?"

"You allow me to stay in Hazzard, just for the time being. In return, I will get rid of the Four of Spades."

"All of them?"

"All of them. Do we have a deal, sheriff?" Clayton held out his hand.

Rosco sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Could he really trust Clayton? He was the Devil afterall. The Devil kept his deal with Johnny, and besides, what did Rosco have to lose?

He took Clayton's hand, and shook it. "You've got a deal, but you mess this up, it's on your head."

Clayton nodded, his yellow eyes becoming a ghastly glow. They narrowed. "Move!" He pushed Rosco to the side with his arm.

Rosco stumbled to the ground. "What was that for?"

He watched as an arrow flew into his shoulder, and went out through his back. Clayton's features dulled, and his blood extinguished itself. His yellow eyes converted back to blue, and his horns shrunk back into his head. He fell backwards after having stood there for a second, gravity not yet decided which way he'd fall.

Rosco looked around frantically, trying to determine where the arrow had come from.

"Nice shot Red!" Said a voice.

Rosco looked to where it had come from. Standing at the edge of the clearing were four men: The Four of Spades.

Texas walked up to Rosco, and grabbed him by the throat. "I heard your whole conversation. It's too bad that arrow had a stainless-steel head."

"What's… stainless-steel… gotta do with anythin'?" Rosco choked out.

Texas laughed maniacally. "Ain't you done your homework sheriff? If stainless-steel comes into contact with a Devil's internal system, he'll turn mortal."

Rosco looked at Clayton's body. Turn mortal. He was shot seventeen times, he was dead. "You didn't have to empty an entire clip."

"You see, that was before I did my homework. But hey, what do I care, he had a good fifty-some years."

"You're a monster."

Texas pulled the sheriff to his feet, and pushed him towards the other Spades. "I'm no more a monster than the one I just killed. Anywho, like I said in my last letter, don't expect to go home after we come to town."

"That was you in the law office today, you almost killed Bo!"

"Almost is good. Now Hogg can hear it from him."

"Hear what?"

"You see sheriff, I was settin' an example of what would happen to anyone who tries to intimidate me. My patience is very limited."

Rosco hung his head, and clenched his fists. "I hate you."

Clayton had saved his life, and in doing so, sacrificed his own. Rosco wondered if he really was dead, or if there was a way for him to come back from dying mortal. No, it wasn't possible. Clayton was gone, there wasn't anything to be done about it.

After dropping her new friend off at home with Jesse, Daisy went back into town to check on everyone else at the law office. As she was getting out of her Jeep, a familiar car pulled up, the one she'd seen at the law office not forty-five minutes ago.

Texas stuck his head and arm out the window, and pointed his gun at Daisy. "Drop your things, and get in the back if you want to live."

Daisy hesitated, but then dropped her belongings, and opened the back door. She slid herself down inside, and closed it.

The car pulled out into the street, and sped away.