Boss Hogg looked through the cloud of smoke he blew, grinning wide down at the assembly. Folding a hand over the lapel of his coat, he stood straight, bringing his shoulders back.

"I'm sure you're wonderin' why I called this very important meetin'. Well, it just so happens that I've had one of the best ideas of the century!" the little man announced.

There was no sound save for a stifled cough from Rosco and a snore from Flash, those of which happened to be the only others that were in the room.

Boss Hogg cleared his throat, still grinning and very animated. "As you may know, whatever you pay towards charity is waived in taxes. The more you give, the less the government takes. All of which can be avoided with a few faulty charities, keepin' my money in my pocket, where it belongs."

Rosco nodded, Flash let out a grunt as if to object.

"Anyway, goin' through our monthly expenses as I always do, the most brilliant idea dawned on me!"

"What's that, Boss?" Rosco asked with a giggle, "Another one of those Hogg's Play-Pens?"

Boss Hogg made a disapproving face. "No, I- shut up, Rosco, let me talk!"

Rosco made a noise but was otherwise quiet.

"You've heard me complain before about the Defects, how they're a waste of money and such."

Rosco nodded again.

"Well, I've come up with the genius idea to make money off of 'em!"

This seemed to make the sheriff nervous. "How, ah, how're you gonna do that, Boss?"

Boss Hogg's grin returned. "I'm glad you asked. While I may contribute a lotta money to fake charities, it's still my money, I'm breakin' dead even."

"Ain't that a good thing, Boss?"

"Sure it is, but I want more! I wanna go over the top!" Boss Hogg exclaimed, driving a finger into the air. "And I have just the way to do it!"

Rosco raised an eyebrow, an invitation to go on.

"I'll hold a charity race, just like I've done before! Only, instead of payin' an entry fee, people place bets on the Defects!"

At this, Rosco seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Now, at the end of the race, all bets will go to the charity of the winner's choice."

Then Rosco got lost. "Uh, Boss, but what if the winner chooses a charity that ain't yours?"

"Because, numbskull, we're gonna rig it so that you win all the bets."

"You mean I'm gonna be bettin' for General Lee?"

Boss Hogg chuckled. "That's exactly what you'd think, Rosco. Everyone is gonna bet on General Lee, which is why you're gonna be the only one who don't."

"Who am I bettin' on then? You know as well as I do that can't nobody beat the General Lee in a race."

"No? Looks like I need to remind you that there's one car in this county that's bested him."

"There is?"

Boss Hogg offered a slimy grin. "The General Grant."

General lifted his hood for Cooter, the mechanic leaning over him after briefly tugging up his pants. Cooter sniffled and wiped his nose with a greasy hand as he leaned over the engine.

"Alright, let's see what we're dealin' with here," he said. "Nothin' outta the ordinary? No coughs? Good oil circulation? Firin' on all eight cylinders?"

"Fire on all eight but lately if I get on a steep incline or if I try to accelerate too fast I'll go to seven or even six. It's like I just lose power. You think it's my transmission?"

Cooter leaned back, rubbing his chin. "Hmm… might be your fuel filter. If you give yourself more gas are you able to switch gears?"

General nodded. "Yeah, but it takes more than usual, like I just can't get enough gas. Probably is my damn fuel filter now that you mention it."

"Well, let's take a look."

Bo watched the street as Cooter rooted around under General's hood for a bit, noticing a small crowd beginning to form around the gazebo in the town square. Curious, he turned back to Cooter, gesturing out toward the street.

"You hear anythin' about somethin' happenin' today here in town?" he asked.

Cooter perked up, straightening from underneath the hood and sidling over to the door where Bo stood. "No," he replied skeptically, glancing at the town square.

The two of them watched as Boss Hogg's fat, white frame climbed onto the gazebo and stood at the podium, looking out over the growing crowd of citizens.

Bo and Cooter each exchanged a glance and started towards the square. Behind them, General's hood shut with a clang! The Charger rolled after them, curious as well.

Boss Hogg stood at the podium beneath the shade of the gazebo. He wore a smug expression as he cleared his throat, hanging his hands on the lapels of his coat.

"People of Hazzard," the little man announced, "gather round, gather round!"

The wave of murmurs that arose were not unprecedented. Typically, the calling of one of these rallies would mean a tax hike or the re-election of a county official, which most often meant Boss Hogg himself.

Bo and Cooter melted into the crowd, among the hundred other pairs of eyes turned upward toward the gazebo, patiently awaiting Boss Hogg's word.

Boss Hogg looked out over the crowd, caching the faces he saw in the crowd, delighting in seeing the town mechanic and blonde Duke present.

With a satisfied smile, he continued. "My fellow countrymen, I have a very important announcement to make. Us Hazzardites are livin' in changin' times. You've seen it all around, it started in this very town. The rise of the Defects!"

This quickly put them off. Bo and Cooter exchanged a glance.

"Another ploy to get rid of 'em?" Bo asked.

"Could be," the mechanic muttered in reply.

"It's the month of December, people, Christmas is around the corner. It's the season of givin', folks! And what better way to do that than to donate to charity?" Boss Hogg paused for effect, listening to the ripples of conversation across the crowd. "This weekend, I plan to host Hazzard's first annual Defect race for charity! People place their bets on the Defects, winner donates to the charity of their choice!"

It was then that the crowd erupted in enthusiasm, save for Bo, Cooter, and General.

From the crowd, General revved his engine loudly, causing a recoil and a few astonished stares. Like the Red Sea, the crowd parted; General rolled forward, seemingly staring Boss Hogg down.

"When did we get a say in this?" the Charger rumbled.

Boss Hogg looked upon him fondly. "Oh, I didn't think you'd object none. Think of it as, ah, givin' back to the community!"

General revved his engine again. "We've been givin' back you fat-" General trailed off, glancing around the crowd. "Anyway, none of the Defects agreed to this… but I'll admit, it doesn't sound like a bad idea."

"See? The Defects agree! Now, come Saturday, the race'll start at the Boar's Nest. Bets are openin' at ten o'clock sharp!"

At that, the crowd dispersed, the three retreating back to the garage. As Bo shut the doors behind them, Cooter turned to General.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked him.

"Yeah," Bo added, "I mean, it's Boss Hogg, you know he's gonna run a crooked race!"

General rumbled. "I figured that but how could he? Every Defect in the county is one of my own. And besides, what's a little friendly competition?"

"Aw, c'mon General, you know he's gotta be up to somethin'!" Cooter said.

"Yeah, remember that time Boss pitted Cooter against you and Luke as a crasher? It could be somethin' like that," Bo explained.

General shifted on his suspension. "I ain't sayin' it ain't worth lookin' into. I'm just sayin' that even if I don't win, it won't be no skin off my back."

Bo folded his arms. "I still don't think this's a good idea, General."

"I'll deal with the consequences of my own decisions, you and Cooter just make sure I'm ready for that race on Saturday, alright?"

Bo and Cooter each shared a glance and nodded.

"Sure, whatever you say, General," said Bo.

Boss Hogg moved swiftly and calmly to the street, flanked by Rosco. Enos was wringing his hands nervously as he watched them approach. Boss Hogg was happily puffing on his cigar as he walked up to them proudly. Rosco hurried after him, Flash flopping in his arms. Enos was pushed to the side as Boss Hogg approached. The fat, little man took his cigar from his mouth with a sinister grin cast down at the police cruiser in front of him.

"So," Boss Hogg started, "Colby."

"C-Caleb," Enos corrected hesitantly.

"Caleb. You listenin' to me, car?"

Caleb's engine rumbled, upbeat and easygoing. "Yes-sir, Mr. Hogg!"

"Good! I got some questions you can answer me. All you Defects are friends, right? You know that General Grant car?"

Caleb rumbled again. "Well, I don't reckon that all Defects are familiar, but I guess if you're talkin' about the ones in Hazzard County, then I'd say yeah. As for Grant, I know him well enough. He lives out at the Davenport farm with Tank."

Boss Hogg put a hand to his chest, fake apology in his voice. "Would I be askin' too much to ask you to go and get him and bring him back here?"

Caleb revved his engine. "Sure thing, Mr. Hogg!"

That said, he sped off, returning minutes later with Grant and Tank in tow. Boss Hogg rose to greet them, displeased at the sight of Tank.

Grant's engine rumbled as he pulled up, though, clearly a different tone than Caleb's. His was annoyed and wary. Tank was behind him, like a sentinel, towering over him. Heat radiated from the hearse's engine, rectangular headlights flickering.

Grant stood before Boss Hogg, wanting nothing more to do with him than he needed. "Caleb tells me you want something from me. What is it?"

Boss Hogg cleared his throat. "You act like I'm gonna take somethin' from you," he said in an innocent tone. His gaze shifted to the monstrous hearse behind him. "D'you mind?"

Grant made a noise, shifting on his suspension. "Whatever you have to say to me, you can say to him."

Boss Hogg continued. "I just have a small favor to ask you."

Grant sighed and shook himself. "I ain't even supposed to be talking to you right now. What?"

Boss Hogg grinned. "As you might've heard, there's an exclusive Defect race happenin' this weekend."

Grant nodded. "General told me. Get to the point."

Boss Hogg's countenance shifted and he folded his hands. "Y'know… it must be a shame bein' in his shadow all the time."

"I don't follow."

"You know… General Lee gets all the glory, he wins every race, gets all the girls…."

Grant's engine rumbled and he exchanged a subtle glance with Tank. "Neither of those things I care about."

"But don't you wish-"

"I have everything I want. Just tell me what you want."

Boss Hogg replied with a valiant growl in his voice. "I want you to beat the General Lee in that race. By any means necessary. You're really gonna tell me that bein' in his shadow doesn't even bother you in the slightest bit?"

Grant rumbled, low and warningly. "You know I can't go against General, it just wouldn't be right. I left all that behind me. Nothing you say is going to convince me."

Boss Hogg hesitated a moment, worried he might've hit a dead-end. There was no bribing the car with money, that much he knew, money meant near to nothing to Defects. This time gave Grant a moment to think as well, which, miraculously, seemed to alter things.

Boss Hogg folded his hands behind his back, talking very earnestly. "Well, now I'm afraid I have to resort to some more drastic measures."

Grant revved his engine, shifting on his suspension. He had a mischievous air about him. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

"Y'know, I can't just forgive any of your traffic violations, or some of the other things you've been caught doin'. Unless…"

Grant made a noise which Boss Hogg was able to decipher as a laugh. "What? You're going to impound me again?"

Boss Hogg shrugged. "Oh, I was thinkin' somethin' a little more permanent."

Grant was taken aback by this and his candid demeanor shifted. "Alright, what do you want?"

Boss Hogg let loose a valiant growl in his voice. "I want you to beat that dang fool General Lee in the race on Saturday. After that, you can go on breakin' laws to your stupid little Defect heart's desire."

"So let me get this straight. I win Saturday and you don't put me in a chop-shop, is that right?"

Boss Hogg shrugged again. "Well when you put it like that-"

Grant gave an exasperated sigh. "Fine, I'll do it." The Charger growled. "You are not a nice man, Hogg."

From Grant there came a click and Boss Hogg heard the voice of Freddie Mercury begin to sing Bohemian Rhapsody as the car began to back away.

"You just worry about winnin' that race on Saturday," Boss Hogg chided.

Grant growled again and backed away out into the street. He and Tank shared another glance.

"Yeah, yeah. Smell you later, Hogg!"

The two of them were gone in a moment with a squeal of Grant's tires.

Once they were gone, Boss Hogg grinned, lighting up another cigar. Rosco moved to stand behind him again, hugging Flash tightly.

Boss Hogg blew out a cloud of smoke and laughed his sinister, high-pitched laugh. "The fix is in, Rosco. The fix is in."