The Finwioni Of Hazzard

Disclaimer: Like many 1980s kids, I grew up watching The Dukes Of Hazzard. Sometimes my brain regurgitates bits of nostalgia when I sleep and a few years ago, I had a cracked-out dream I was watching a show called The Finwioni Of Hazzard involving our favorite brothers. I am a progressive and do not support flying the Confederate flag, which is not on their car (nor is the car called the General Lee).

"Fëanor, you better turn around, I don't think we can make it over this ditch -"

It was too late. Fëanor was already speeding up, slamming down on the pedal, and instead of sinking down into the ditch the car flew over the ditch. From the backseat, Finarfin raised his arms, and Fëanor let out a cry of "YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE HAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" while Fingolfin peeled his fingers away from where he'd been shielding his eyes... and pinched the bridge of his nose with an exaggerated sigh.

A few minutes later Fëanor pulled over and he and Finarfin got out to run victory laps around the car, then do a little dance. Fingolfin finally got out and shook his head.

"I think the General Fin deserves a new paint job for his good work," Fëanor said, slapping the hood of the bright orange 1969 Dodge Charger with the eight-pointed star of the House of Fëanor on the roof.

"First, you owe me for that scare," Fingolfin said, folding his arms. "I almost had a damn heart attack."

"Shit, yeah OK." Fëanor didn't want Fingolfin to be angry and get into another wrasslin' match. Those always had a happy ending, but Fëanor was still sore from yesterday. So he slapped Fingolfin on the back and affectionately tousled Fingolfin's hair, the only one of the three brothers to not be wearing a cowboy hat. "I'll buy you dinner, whaddya say?" Fëanor made a "come here" gesture to Finarfin, even though he was already following. "Come on, let's go to Applebee's! I wanna try some of them thar new Cheeto wings."

"You better step on it," Finarfin said. "I want some lava cake."

"I'll git you some lava cake, all right," Fëanor said, giving Finarfin a mischievous wink just before he got in.

Fëanor had a reputation in town as being "that crazy guy with the cars". He was obsessed with buying old, broken-down cars from the 1940s, 1950s and 1960s and restoring them - he had several projects at once up on cinder blocks around the yard of Tirion, the big old house three generations of Finwioni lived in.

The "General Fin", named in honor of his father - who had not been a general in the service but still barked orders - was Fëanor's pride and joy, and the one finished project he kept, selling the others at car shows. He loved driving the General Fin around town, and he tended to drive a little too fast if there was nobody else on the road and no pedestrians around.

He had, over the years, gotten on the wrong side of Sheriff Manwë, who had written him several speeding tickets. Manwë was convinced those Finwioni were ne'er-do-wells, even though speeding was the only criminal activity they were engaged in. He hated Fëanor's pride in that old car, and he especially hated the way Fëanor made thousands of dollars selling the cars he'd fixed up and donated it all to charities like some communist.

The town of Hazzard was quiet enough that its own sheriff had little better to do with his time than go to Dunkin' Donuts and sit on the side of the road with his radar speed gun. In his side mirror he saw that orange car with the star on the roof, and waited with the gun.

They were going five miles over the speed limit today - restrained because this was one street over from what passed for a "business district" in Hazzard. Manwë drove up behind them and flashed the lights and the sirens, indicating they should pull over. He opened up his can of dip, popped some dip in his mouth, and then sauntered over to the car, grinning so hard it hurt as he chewed his dip. He did love putting that Fëanor in his place with speeding tickets.

Just as he whipped out his ticket pad, a red pickup truck came barreling down the road, with the music so loud Manwë felt the bass thumping.

BAWITDABA DA BANG DA BANG DIGGY DIGGY DIGGY
SHAKE THE BOOGIE SAID UP JUMP THE BOOGIE
BAWITDABA DA BANG DA BANG DIGGY DIGGY DIGGY
SHAKE THE BOOGIE SAID UP JUMP THE BOOGIE

"YEE HAW!" came two male voices - long black hair was blowing around through the driver's window, long red hair streaming through the passenger window, and Manwë glanced over just as the truck passed, with the redhaired man looking at him, sticking out his tongue and raising two middle fingers.

That was Fëanor's goddamned son and nephew, Maedhros and Fingon, and they were most definitely speeding. Of course, Manwë hadn't been pointing the velocity gun at them so he had no way of registering their speed and thus couldn't prove they were speeding so he could write them a ticket.

"DAMN YOU!" Manwë yelled after the truck, shaking his fist.

"ATTA BOY!" Fëanor yelled, waving at the truck.

Manwë glared at Fëanor, and Fëanor glared back.

"You know y'all were goin' five miles over the speed limit, boy?" Manwë snarled, popping his dip.

"Wow, you're gonna write me a ticket for a measly five miles?" Fëanor took off his cowboy hat and scratched his head.

"Hey, what if we buy you a box of donuts and you agree not to write us up this time?" Finarfin asked. "We're on our way to Applebee's and we could stop at Dunkin'."

"And it's illegal to bribe an officer," Manwë said. "But I sure could use some donuts and coffee right about now, so you have yourself a deal. Y'all better git back here in an hour, hear?"

The Finwion brothers had enough run-ins with Manwë to know his preferred donuts were the chocolate-frosted variety. After they ordered a box of a dozen donuts, they took a detour to visit home, where Celegorm was playing fetch with his dog Huan in the backyard. Celegorm was diligent about picking up the dog doo - unlike their neighbors - and it was in little baggies in a special wastebasket, since Celegorm didn't want raccoons or other critters to have to deal with poo when they were raiding the garbage for food.

Finarfin made a beeline for that wastebasket, taking out a few bags of dog doo, and when Fëanor realized what he was doing he threw his head back and laughed. The brothers then spent the next fifteen minutes applying old brown dog shit to the chocolate on the donuts; Fëanor wondered if Manwe would be able to tell, with Manwë using dip.

After Manwë's coffee and box of donuts was delivered at the radar spot, the brothers finally pulled in at Applebee's, where Maedhros and Fingon were on a date. Maedhros and Fingon still called them over - they didn't mind being on a double date with their fathers and uncles - and Fëanor couldn't help telling them about the box of donuts prank.

"Good one," Maedhros said. Then he looked at Fingon with a little smirk, like he was plotting something equally bad, and he turned back to his father and uncles. "Maybe Finno and I could bring him a 'lava cake', to say sorry for speeding." His fingers made air quotes.

Fingolfin facepalmed and made noises, but shook with silent laughter.

"That's a great idea, son," Fëanor said. "Hey, maybe if he doesn't catch on, we can bring him 'cake' and 'chocolate-frosted' donuts every time he wants to write us up for speeding."

"YEE HAW!" Finarfin and Fingon yelled in unison.

_

The idea of Feanor and his family as rednecks sat in my head for years after a dream but I didn't know if I'd ever actually write it, despite SemperViridis finding it hilarious and trying to feed the bunny for a couple years. Then in late 2021 I stumbled upon this (no I'm not on Twitter):

(Text for screen readers: a Tweet that says "Kid Rock makes music for people who have definitely slept with a first cousin.")

And that was it, I had to write the thing, with Maedhros and Fingon listening to Kid Rock.

(Note: just like I don't support the Confederate flag, I don't like Kid Rock's Republican politics, but he had a couple good songs in the late 90s.)