Looks like these two plowboys need better quality moonshine.

Now y’all settle yourselves down for a listen. This here yarn begins with a couple of not-so-good ol’ boys named Virgil and Frank. They thought they would stage a sugar heist – sugar being a crucial ingredient in the manufacturing of moonshine. It’s worth noting, however, that the manufacture of shine is one thing. The imbibing of it during the commission of banditry is another altogether.

However, enough about Virgil and Frank. This ain’t their show, and it’s high time we met our heroes. We’ll say hello to Starsky first. He’s the one hanging onto the open door of that flashy red car of his, wiggling his rear end to beat all. Looks like the boy’s suffering an attack of palsy. Either that, or he’s discovered a fine field of clover and wants to tell all the other bees about it. Hutch is the other one, the yellow-haired fellow coming up behind with that puzzled look on his face. Turns out Starsky’s practicing for a local dance competition. He’s teaching himself from a paperback book – The Anglo’s Guide to Latin Dance. We couldn't find the exact book for your perusal, but this looks mighty close.

Pay attention, now, because the story speeds up from here. A call comes in over the radio, and before you can say, “Fast as a bullfrog with tennis shoes on,” Starsky and Hutch are tearing all over Bay City in pursuit of Virgil and Frank. It’s a mighty fine chase, too. Ends with a real purty crash into a stack o’barrels, boxes and crates. Unfortunately for Virgil and Frank, this is the end of their part in our little tale. It turns out wood alcohol ain’t so healthy to imbibe. Downright fatal, one might say.

But y’all knew that already.

Uncle Jesse's lost twin demonstrates quality control, Southern Style.

The real Daisy mocks Dolly's yellow truck. Country gals drive Cameros.

Looks like Brokeback Mountain didn't break any new ground...

I like Bluegrass better than music!

Our boys get to play dress up. Hutch is CW Jackson, “the Hottest Country Picker this side of Bell County,” and Starsky’s his manager, Big Johnny Snowball. I think we all know who lost that coin toss!

Now this is the point in the yarn where you get to sit back in your easy chair and let your feet tap along to the music. Everyone’s here, and its amateur night at The Old Backwoods Inn. Hutch is playing his guitar, Starsky is sweet-talking Dolly, and Paw’s having himself a fine ol’ time in his Sunday best. You can tell Willy’s the bad guy. He’s the only one who doesn’t like Bluegrass.

After the musical part of the evening’s entertainment ends, “CW” and “Snowball” agree to deliver a load of contraband sugar to Willy, in “Snowball’s” big red pickup, the one with the pistons the size of manhole covers. He’s got to be careful with that truck. It’s borrowed. The sugar ain’t, though. It’s been purchased all nice and legal. Our boys have what seems like a foolproof plan. Deliver the sugar, arrest the moonshiners.

What they don’t count on is Willy hightailing off with both the truck and the sugar. Now, this ain’t any old truck. It’s a special, undercover truck. By which I mean it has a radio that changes from a good ol’ CB rig to a cop radio in just a flick of a switch. It don’t take even our Willy long to figger out that he’s been had, and it takes him even less time than that to notice that he’s picked up a passenger.

Yep, Starsky has stowed away in the back of the truck, along with the sugar. Back at the barn, Starsky tries to bluff. It ain’t no use. He’s been, as they say in these here crime dramas, made.

It’s a good thing Hutch is coming to the rescue, ain’t it? It’d be even better if he wasn’t riding a kid’s dirt bike with a two-stroke lawnmower engine. It’s going to take him a coon’s age to get up that there mountain.

See? I told ya, Melvin, that bit part in Deliverance would pay off.

Hutch ensures he'll be sleeping on the couch for the next while.

Real Book Title: Release the Amazing Powers of Your Hypno-Butt!

If wood alcohol don't get em, them shag carpeted walls surely will.

There’s little pockets of the South all over this town.

Now put down them milk and cookies, there’s some other folks I want you to meet. First up is Federal Agent Kendall. A pleasant enough fellow, as feds go, and very informative. That’s his quote up there, servin' as the title of this section.

Next we have Sam Cumberland. He’s the kindly old gent with the white beard, known as “Paw”. Him and his family been brewing quality corn for friends and neighbors since Washington DC was a swamp. Sounds a bit like ol’ Santa Claus, don’t he?

‘Cept Santa never had a daughter as purty as Dolly. And his hired hands, Willy and Melvin, would make two plumb ugly elves. These two brothers are the low-down skunks what’ve been adulterating old Paw’s shine. Willy’s the smarter one, which ain’t saying much. He’s got himself a plan to make a heap of money off of old Paw’s business by churning out gallons of rotgut. To be specific, it’s ten thousand dollars if he can deliver a thousand gallons by Saturday. Now, as soon as the news gets back that Virgil and Frank have gone belly up, Dolly sets out in her yellow pickup to collect all of the jugs of bad shine. See, what Willy and Melvin lack in morals, Dolly and Paw make up in commitment to their craft.

Over at the Smokey Mountain Inn, Starsky is undercover as a “thirsty man with an urge for a drink,” and unwisely announces to the local talent that, “If it’s flammable, I’ll drink it!” Out comes the shine and before long Starsky is commode-huggin’ drunk. Though he hugs the jug a bit first, while Hutch interrogates the barkeep, who gives them a description of Dolly and her shiny yellow pickup. And, come to think of it, Starsky never does make it to a commode.

The boys chase Dolly all over town to some mighty fine banjo pickin’ music. She leaves them in her dust, and Starsky’s stomach falls out all over the side of the road. Which is, I might point out, a good sight better than in the car – or on his Latin dancing shoes. While Starsky is indisposed, Hutch is on the radio learning that Federal Agent Kendall’s body has been found up on Old Ranch Road. Remember him? Well, no need to worry your purty little head, he doesn’t come into this story again.

Hutch's cookie duster doubles as a security blanket. Stage fright - gone!

Problem is, Starsky never warned Hutch it was THAT kind of bar.

The Little Moped That Could. "I'm comin' Starsk! Just hang in there!"

We never should have left Kentucky.

Never mind, the delay gives Starsky time to fill Dolly and Paw in on the story so far. Which y’all know already, so I won’t bore you with repeatin’ it. Suffice to say, Willy makes a whole lot of threats and behaves in a most ungentlemanly fashion towards our Dolly. Melvin jest stands around with his gun lookin’ worried. Ain’t neither of them mangy, squirrel-brained polecats got the sense God gave a billy goat. Their master plan is to load up all the moonshine in the truck, kill Paw and Starsky, and sneak out of town with Dolly.

Now here’s Hutch, pulling up to the barn on his tricked-out lawnmower. Melvin gives him a cock-and-bull story, which he would have bought if Starsky hadn’t tackled Willy, making him fire his pistol into the roof of the barn. Hutch, hearing that shot, turns right around and drives through the barn door. The upshot of all this tomfoolery being a right purty little dust-up as Hutch mows down the bad guys, just before crashing into the still.

And that’s the legend of Bay City Hazzard County, and it ended purty happy. Willy and Melvin went to prison. Dolly and Paw, thanks to some well-intentioned prevaricating on Starsky’s part, were pardoned and sent back to Kentucky. And Hutch found a date for Saturday night.

Yep, everyone’s happy as kittens in a cream jar, except Starsky, who got his leg trapped under the barrel Hutch sat down on after the big brawl with the bad guys. He ended up missing his dance contest. And Hutch’s date? She used to be Starsky’s. Our Curly’s none too pleased with his partner these days.