The F Word: EP #4

The views expressed by Julius Fairweather do not reflect the opinions of Project: Honor, Rock Johnson, Callum Walker, Christian DeMarco, or any member of our staff or roster. However, if Caden Young is really in search of a star with mainstream crossover appeal, he should put down the Juul and call the Juulius. The F Word with Julius Fairweather was filmed in Paris, France in front of a snobby studio audience that enjoyed wine and midday naps.









As the graphics morph away to reveal a studio set and “Stuck in the Middle With You” by Stealers Wheel begins to fade out, we see Winston Winfield upon the stage with his microphone in hand. He is once again joined by Bambi and Candy, who dance seductively while wearing sexy French maid costumes. As the twins gyrate and jiggle on either side of Winston, the middle-aged emcee begins his introduction.


Winston Winfield: “Ladies and gentlemen, it is once again my pleasure to welcome you to The Final Word with Julius Fairweather! This week we come to you from Paris, France because Rock Johnson would not agree to pay for our travel to Amsterdam. So put aside your Royale with Cheese in favor of malt liquor and some green as we present a new Viewer’s Verse, reveal this week’s Fab Four, drop a Final F-Bomb, and compare some of the hottest matches and segments from Fallout and Proving Ground! Now, without further ado, please welcome France’s favorite illegitimate son...a man who is undefeated in main event appearances...He is the Weatherman...He is the Shepherd of Lost Souls...He is simply Furious...Juuuuulius Fairrrrrweatherrrr!”


Winston steps aside with a wave of his arm as Bambi and Candy part the golden curtains, allowing Julius Fairweather to make his grand entrance. Julius is dressed and groomed as you would normally expect, however he also sports a large bandage on his head and both of the middle fingers of his hands are in splints. Despite these lingering injuries from last week’s Fallout, Julius still sports a bright smile, as the crowd gives him a warm welcome. His regular fist bump routine with Winston begins as normal, but unfortunately they are unable to complete the complex series of gestures due to Julius’ injuries. Both men look disappointed in this outcome as the crowd gives them a sympathetic “awww”, before they ultimately shrug their shoulders and move on with the show as usual. Once Winston is seated on the couch, the twins have stepped up to their stripper pole, and Julius is seated comfortably behind his desk, the crowd begins to quiet their cheers so that the host can give them a proper welcome.


Julius: “What’s up, motherfuckers? Welcome to another exciting episode of The F Word! Last week saw some crazy events as Fallout and Proving Ground went down right here in France! Both shows saw new champions crowned as one of my former Fab Four selections, Eli Atlas, captured the Ascension Championship from Daniel Horror, and Mark Hunter took the Grand Championship from Dickie Watson like a motherfucking thief in the night! We’re gonna be talking about what went down on both shows along with all of the motherfucking segments you’ve come to expect! We’re also gonna have a return of The Storm Warning when we put Proving Ground and Fallout head-to-head to see which show came out on top!”


The crowd cheers in response to the announcement of tonight’s line-up, before a few of the more vocal fans begin to chant for The Verge, the segment Julius introduced on his last episode to lampoon James Edgebrook and The Edge. As the crowd chants for another edition of the new segment, Julius attempts to quiet them by waving his hands.


Julius: “Now hold up, motherfuckers. As much as I would love to present another edition of The Verge for all of you to enjoy, I’ve been served with a cease and desist order by James Edgebrook’s motherfucking attorney. It seems that Mr. Edgebrook took great offense upon seeing the presentation of my intellectual property, and that motherfucker is trying to shut us down. Not only does he want to get rid of The Verge, but he claims that my Fab Four is derivative of the Elite 7 and that some of my motherfucking sponsors are not legitimate!”


The crowd responds with a loud chorus of boos as some of them begin to chant “fuck Edgebrook”, and once again Julius does his best to quiet their interruption.


Julius: “I know, I know! Be cool, motherfuckers! I’ll handle James Edgebrook in due time, for both his legal motherfuckery and that cowardly shit that went down at the end of Fallout! Until then, let’s all relax and have a great motherfucking show!”


Winston: “Ha ha! Well said, sir! And may I just add, that I know several legal experts in Hollywood who would love to represent you!”


The host of the show snaps his head toward Winston to give him a bug-eyed glare, followed by a prolonged silence as the emcee quietly shifts in his seat and clears his throat.


Julius: “Motherfucker, I’ll defend my own ass in court like a lazy message board admin defends himself from internet trolls!”


Winston: “I...uh...yes, you are correct, sir…”


Julius holds his intimidating stare at Winston for a few more seconds before eventually turning his attention back to the camera with his wide grin and glistening teeth.


Julius: “As I was saying, Edgebrook may have to resort to lawyers and cheap physicality when faced with my smooth verbal jousting, but I ain’t about to fill up my show by giving him free press! That would drop my ratings quicker than having Aiden Reynolds and Daniel Horror reenact the presidential debates!”


Julius pauses for a moment, considering that very possibility.


Julius: “Actually, that doesn’t sound so bad, but that’s not the motherfucking point! Let’s get this show on the road with a very special Viewer’s Verse, as sent in to us by a rhythmic arsonist known as Carl!”


Julius focuses his attention on the blue cue card in his hand, clears his throat, and begins to recite this weeks poetic submission.






Upon finishing the rhyme, Julius looks up to the camera with his eyes bugging out and his mouth pressed into a tight grimace. He then tosses the card containing the extra long verse over his shoulder and continues to scowl.


Julius: “Damn it, Carl. Go to a motherfucking commercial.”


The scene opens upon the stereotypical kitchen of a middle class, white family as a pair of children sit down to enjoy breakfast and their mother works at the counter in the background. Mom then moves toward the table, placing a bowl of oatmeal in front of each child.


Kid #1: “Ugh, oatmeal again? That’s the third time this week!”


Kid #2: “Yeah, breakfast sucks!”


Mom has a sad look upon her face as the pair of children glare at their bowls of oatmeal. Just then, an animated figure in a black suit and with a glorious afro struts into the scene.


Animated Julius: “What’s up, motherfuckers?”


Both Kids: “Julius!”


Animated Julius: “That’s right! The most suave motherfucker in the cereal aisle has just shown up to give his littlest motherfuckers the cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast!”


Kid #1: “Burgers?”


Animated Julius: “Not today, motherfucker. Today you little shits are getting exactly what you deserve!”


Julius begins reaching into his suit jacket, which causes the mother to shriek and then pass out. Julius pauses for a moment to shake his head at the unconscious woman before continuing to reveal what’s inside his coat. Instead of the hand cannon mom was expecting, Julius produces a colorful box of cereal with his own face on the front.


Kid #2: “Wow! Sugar Coated F-Bombs!”


Kid #1: “You’re the best, Julius!”


Animated Julius: “You’re goddamn right I am, motherfucker. Next time mom tries to feed you that oatmeal shit, you just tell that bitch to be cool and ask for your favorite motherfucking cereal!”





When we return to The F-Word, Julius is still seated behind his desk and the smile has returned to his face.


Julius: “Mmmm! Now that was a tasty sponsor! Kudos to the fine motherfuckers at General Mills for all that cereal mascot money they’re sending my way! But enough about sponsors for now, cause it’s time for this week’s motherfucking Storm Warning! Two shows went to war last week, and now we’re gonna decide which of those motherfuckers came out on top! In order to do that, we’re gonna look at two matches and one segment from each show, and pit those motherfuckers against each other like thirsty virgins with Kasey Winterborn stuck in the middle! First on the agenda, let’s take a look at what both shows offered for the smart motherfuckers that arrived early!”



Julius: “Considering Fallout had three motherfucking dark matches while Proving Ground only had one, it would look like they’ve got the easy win in this first contest, but I am nothing if not a fair motherfucker. With that in mind, I’m gonna compare Kagome Akaibara’s squash of Pat the motherfucking Postman to Dex Griffin’s squash of Zack Tyler, seeing as how they were the first matches of the night. Now on one hand, you have Kagome getting a very impressive win over that motherfucking monster in the blue shorts in less time than it takes my ass to string together a colorful sentence. On the other hand, Dex used his time to make Zack’s face look like an overripe tomato. For the sheer fact that there was blood involved and that Lonely Fans’ top draw made Zack confuse his left hand with his right, I give the dark match category to Fallout!”




Julius: “Going into the second round, both motherfucking programs had their share of title matches, but I’m going to focus on the two that had everyone talking when gold changed hands. On Fallout, my boy Eli Atlas survived a shitload of distractions to capture The Ascension Title, but on Proving Ground we saw Mark Hunter pull off the unimaginable by dethroning Dickie motherfucking Watson. Both were surprising moments and a big deal in the scheme of things, but as impressive as Eli was in capturing his title despite the presence of Amber Payne, branding irons, and runaway cattle, it’s hard to top untouchable Dickie Watson losing the belt he’s had since August. Hell, even if me and Drago’s match had been for the title, I don’t think I could pick it over the motherfucking title reign of Dickie’s coming to an end. On top of that, it was one hell of a hard fought match! Proving Ground takes this category with motherfucking ease!”




Julius: “Now there are a lot of other things I could take into consideration, but I like to measure segments that can be compared fairly. I could have looked at Indy versus Blair and Kayla versus Jason Long, but one was for a title and the other wasn't. Hell, I could have compared the 8 Person Tag against Contessa versus Pyro, but they ain’t even in the same fucking ballpark. So instead, I decided to take a look at a pair of promos that celebrated a couple of The Crowning’s signature motherfucking moments. On one hand, you’ve got new Legacy Champion, Elana DeDraca with her championship proclamation, and on the other, you’ve got Shawn Warstein being knighted or some shit.”



Julius: “So on Fallout, Elena came to the ring and laid everything out so clearly that even a blind toddler could read the motherfucker. She told us what that title means to her, how she’s gonna defend it, and even addressed her haters along the way. Meanwhile, over on Proving Ground, Shawn Warstein unveiled his new jewelry, did a whole lot of bragging, and eventually ran away when that big motherfucker, Ozymandias, stole his motherfucking spotlight. Now, as entertaining as it was to watch Ozy plant a referee after making Warstein wet himself, we’re not judging that big motherfucker’s promo, are we? Still, I’m having a tough time trying to decide a winner. It’s a good thing I have a solution for things like this. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome The F Word’s official tie-breaking lemur...Lemmy!”


Motorhead’s “Ace of Spades” begins to play as the camera turns to focus on the entrance stage. After a few moments, the curtains part to reveal Lemmy the Lemur as he makes his official F Word entrance.



Lemmy scampers across the stage and joins the rest of the F Word cast on the adjacent set. He leaps onto the desk with an ease and grace that is a credit to his species before exchanging a quick series of fist bumps with Julius.


Julius: “It seems we’ve got a motherfucking problem here, Lemmy. Fallout and Proving Ground are tied at one point each, and it all comes down to a battle of the promos between Elena DeDraca and Shawn Warstein. I just can’t decide how this motherfucker should turn out, so I’m afraid it’s all on your shoulders now, my little motherfucker.”


Winston has a pair of blown up pictures of Elena DeDraca and Shawn Warstein set up a few feet from the desk, which Lemmy seems to be considering carefully. After a few moments, the lemur reaches a paw behind himself, carefully filling it with his own feces. He then hurls the poo toward one of the pictures, ultimately making his tie-breaking decision.



With his decision having been made, Julius offers Lemmy a shot glass of Hennessy for his hard work. The lemur gulps down his prize before leaping off Julius’ desk and scampering backstage from where he emerged.


Julius: “And there we have it! Lemmy has shown us exactly what he thought of Shawn Warstein’s promo, giving Elena the win with the kind of poise and grace we’ve come to expect from our motherfucking champions! That means Fallout has taken this week’s Storm Warning with a score of 2 to 1!”



Julius: “In the last Storm Warning, Proving Ground earned itself the bragging rights, but this week Fallout fires back to earn my motherfucking stamp of approval. Maybe you don’t agree? Maybe you don’t like my astute evaluations or my motherfucking criteria? Well maybe someday I’ll give a shit about your motherfucking feelings. Now let’s hear from another of our fantastic sponsors and then we’ll be back with this week’s Fab Four and the F Grade!”



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Julius: “Welcome back to The F-Word, motherfuckers! Coming up next is Fairweather’s Fab Four, where I choose two stand-out competitors from both Fallout and Proving Ground! With everything that went down on the last pair of shows, I had my motherfucking work cut out for me, but I have managed to narrow it down to four motherfuckers who made an impact and are the ones to keep you eyes on in the coming weeks! So let’s get to my motherfucking list!



Julius: “After missing The Crowning due to an injury, this flamboyant motherfucker made his return on Proving Ground in a one-on-one match with Seth Blackheart! Now while Seth may not be top of the line talent just yet, it’s a big deal anytime a motherfucker returns from an injury and gets a win. Myo is as tough as he is pretty, and while I might be as straight as a motherfucking yardstick, I have no problems admitting that he is a pretty man! With this win, Myo should be back on everyone’s radar cause he’s been a consistent contender to championship gold since his first motherfucking match! Not only did he get the win in his return, but he made a motherfucker tap the fuck out. Indy Darling and Mark Hunter better be watching their backs, cause Myojin is as dangerous as ever! So because of his triumphant return to the ring, he’s made my Fab Four! Congrats, motherfucker!”



Julius: “Now this motherfucker gets a lot of heat for his Twitter antics and his unquenchable thirst for the opposite sex, but that don’t mean the motherfucker can’t throw down when the bell rings! He earned himself a win over the newly crowned Noble Champion, Kayla Richards, and that kind of victory has to put the motherfucker in contention. While the fans get to vote on Kayla’s next opponent, Jason Long is one of the choices and he has to be considered a favorite to take home the votes after beating Kayla in a non-title match! Even if he doesn’t get the votes he needs, you don’t have to be a motherfucking brain surgeon to know that title opportunities are coming up in this motherfucker’s future. So for getting attention in the ring and not on social media, you’ve made my Fab Four! Congratulations, motherfucker!”



Julius: “Now I have a simple rule I like to follow when I choose my Fab Four, and that’s to bring attention to the motherfuckers that James Edgebrook tends to ignore. Considering he lost his championship to Mark Hunter, one can assume that Dickie’s gonna find himself sliding down a bit on that Elite 7 list, and that weasel Edgebrook is probably chompin’ at the bit to make it happen! Still, it’s not his record as the former champ that convinced me to put the motherfucker in my Fab Four. I’m putting him here because all the motherfuckers are talking about Dickie losing instead of Mark Hunter winning. Think about that shit for a second. Sure, Mark won the title in controversial fashion, but once it was over, everyone was turning on Twitter to see what Dickie would say about his loss, not what the new champion would say about his win. On top of that, he’s also got himself a shot at Elena DeDraca and the Legacy Title. So for being a controversial motherfucker that people keep watching with or without a title, Dickie makes my Fab Four! Congrats, motherfucker!”



Julius: “Now that is a good looking motherfucker! Come on now, you didn’t think I’d choose a Fab Four week after week and not put myself on that list at some point! As unbiased and fair as I may be, I know that slimy Edgebrook ain’t gonna put me in the Elite 7, even if I did beat the Prime Champion in a non-title match. So once again, I’m doing Edgebrook’s job for him and giving a hard-working motherfucker a little bit of praise! Of course I’ll give credit where credit is due, cause Drago Santiago proved that he is a bad motherfucker, which only validates putting my ass in my own Fab Four! So because he’s a suave motherfucker who got his first win in his first main event, I’m proud to put Julius motherfucking Fairweather in my Fab Four! Congratulations to me, motherfucker!”



The graphics fade from the screen, as we are greeted with a close-up of Julius behind his desk. His expression has turned serious as he contemplates his next order of business.


Julius: “Now that I’ve congratulated the motherfuckers who made a positive impact on last week’s shows, it’s time to single out that one motherfucker that managed to get on my nerves and the nerves of everyone watching at home. No, it’s not James Edgebrook, because I’m fixin’ to take care of that motherfucker personally. Instead I have decided to give this week’s F Grade to a truly deserving motherfucker…”



Julius: “That’s right, this week’s F Grade goes to the owner of Project: Honor, Rock motherfucking Johnson. Now I realize this is a dangerous play on my part, considering the motherfucker signs my paychecks and allows me to appear on your television screens, but sometimes even the most powerful motherfuckers need to be put in their place. So while I hope this decision doesn’t affect my future employment, I’ve got to call it like I see it. It seems to me like Rock Johnson is letting all of his newfound power go to his head, because the motherfucker didn’t just show up to play dictator on one show, but both of the motherfuckers.”


Julius takes a moment to shake his head in frustration and disbelief.


Julius: “First off, he showed up at the beginning of Fallout to impose his will over Fallout General Manager, Christian DeMarco. Now I’m not about to stick up for “Mommy Issues” DeMarco, and I know I put motherfucking Dickie Watson in my Fab Four, but what in the blue hell is Rock Johnson smoking? Fallout’s first solo Pay Per View is coming up and the owner decides that a Proving Ground competitor is gonna get the first shot at the Legacy Championship? Seems a little motherfucking fishy to me, and you might even say it reeks of favoritism toward the original brand over the new show on the block.”


Julius pauses as he leans back in his chair, giving the camera a suspicious stare.


Julius: “But the motherfucker wasn’t done there. Next he decides to close out Proving Ground with his own little backstage segment as he consoles Dickie about his title loss. He freely admits Hunter had to cheat to win, but instead of doing something about it, he sips on his tequila like a 13 year old that just found the key to his daddy’s liquor cabinet. I know we’re all getting paid well and he’s given us this platform to perform on, but something tells me that Rock’s gonna keep swinging his Johnson however he sees fit. While there ain’t a whole lot we can do about it, at least we can let the motherfucker know that we’re onto him. So enjoy your F Grade, motherfucker, and please don’t cancel my motherfucking show.”


Julius turns from the camera after finishing his presentation of the F Grade, giving a bright smile to the secondary camera on the opposite side, his serious demeanor having faded.


Julius: “If you were hoping to see your ass in the Fab Four or maybe even earn yourself an F-Grade like Rocky Moana, rest assured that I’ll be keeping my eyes on all you motherfuckers until the next installment. I’ll be right back after this commercial break with The Final F-Bomb! Stay tuned, motherfuckers!”


Narrator: “In a day and age where “fake news” has become a common phrase, we must remain vigilant in safeguarding our thoughts from the sensationalism created by those who have been given the power to spread their opinions. While this is true regarding all forms of media, we must also be aware that our own beloved sport is not immune. That’s why a group of unbiased third-party citizens have stepped forward to Prevent Edgebrook’s Negligence and Irresponsible Sensationalism.”



Narrator: “Our non-profit group is not affiliated with Project: Honor, its staff, or any members of its roster, including suave motherfuckers that might benefit from our actions. We are simple citizens of this great country and fans of professional wrestling who demand fair and unbiased accounts regarding our favorite programs and superstars. Unfortunately, fair and unbiased seem to be terms that James Edgebrook is unfamiliar with. If you would like to help us fight against his irresponsible actions and dangerous statements, you can send your donations to:



Narrator: “Please, do what you can to aid in our cause. Not only is James Edgebrook an irresponsible journalist, but he also abuses homeless animals to satiate his own deviant sexual impulses. If you won’t do it for us, do it for them.”




Following the final commercial break, we return to Julius as he shakes his head and displays a deeply saddened expression.


Julius: “Now that was some eye-opening shit right there. The more you learn about people, the more things start to make sense. Never let it be said that Julius Fairweather isn’t a charitable motherfucker, cause I’ve already sent my donation. I hope you’ll do the same.”



Julius: “And that just about does it for this episode of The F Word, but as always, The Shepherd is gonna leave you with some parting wisdom. For this week’s F Bomb, I thought I might make the letter F stand for France to honor the fine motherfucking country that hosted my show this week, but then something happened on Fallout that changed my motherfucking mind. Drago Santiago decided to show me that he meant business by breaking my two favorite fingers.”


Julius holds up both his heavily casted middle fingers to the camera.


Julius: “So with that in mind, this week the letter F stands for Fingers. A motherfucker doesn’t realize how important a couple of digits can be until he can’t use them anymore. So take it to heart when I tell you how much it fucking sucks. Without your precious middle fingers, the ways in which you can tell the establishment to fuck off become limited. You can’t fist bump your favorite motherfuckers to let them know they’re cool. You can’t even hold a motherfucking pen the right way when some hot lady wants you to sign her cleavage. Even Bambi and Candy have been affected by my temporary disability in ways that are better left to your motherfucking imaginations.”


Julius takes a moment to stare longingly at his broken fingers before continuing to share his epiphany.


Julius: “Just imagine the members of Big Drip trying to recover their music from the cloud without their middle fingers. Imagine Jason Long trying to earn another Twitter ban with only his thumbs. Would Betsy Granger look as sexy with her lady fingers all casted up? Could Pat deliver the mail properly? Could Terry Marshall and Space Lord inject Human Growth Hormone into each other without full use of all their digits? Think about it, motherfuckers. Think about all those things in life that you would have to give up without those beautiful motherfucking fingers. Then maybe, just maybe, you’ll all feel a little bit of my motherfucking pain.”


Julius looks back to the camera, fighting back his emotions to give one final smile to his viewing audience.


Julius: “Just remember, with or without the use of my favorite motherfucking fingers, you’ve got a friend in me. Until next time Motherfucking Friends of Fairweather...be cool.”


The camera pans out to show Bambi and Candy dancing seductively on their strippers’ pole as Julius and Winston nod at each other with satisfaction. The crowd applauds as another edition of The F Word reaches its conclusion, accompanied this week by MISSIO’s “Middle Fingers”.



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