Post by Furious Julius Fairweather on Aug 3, 2021 12:35:56 GMT -5
DISCLAIMER
The views expressed by Julius Fairweather do not reflect the opinions of Rock Johnson, Christian DeMarco, Indy Darling, or any member of the Project: Honor staff or roster. Despite rumors to the contrary, Julius is not the Romeo to Caden Young’s Juuliet. However, when it comes to Larry KaChow trying to take Caden’s job, Julius is happy to have Mr. Young’s fully-clothed backside. The F Word was recorded in front of a live studio audience in Perth, Australia.
While it has become customary for Winston Winfield to provide an introduction to the show, the middle-aged emcee is nowhere to be seen as we begin. Instead, The Swallows Twins, Bambi and Candy, stand on either side of the stage microphone, prepared to give their own introduction.
BAMBI: It’s time for The F Word with Julius Fairweather! *tee hee*
CANDY: So without further ado, please welcome the host of the show; *giggle*
BAMBI: He’s The Weatherman…
CANDY: The Shepherd of Lost Souls…
BAMBI: The Gatekeeper of Fallout…
CANDY: And a Bad Motherfucker…
BAMBI AND CANDY: Julius Fairweather!!!
Julius throws the curtains aside to make his way onto the stage, a wide grin on his face as the audience welcomes him with a generous amount of applause. He prepares himself to give Winston their standard exchange of fist bumps out of habit, then changes his tactics to give both twins a kiss on the back of their hands. With a wink and a wave, he motions for the camera to follow him as he makes his way across the stage. In just a few moments, Julius is seated comfortably behind his desk as Bambi and Candy jiggle and gyrate in their skin-tight dresses at the rear of the set.
JULIUS: What’s up, motherfuckers!?
AUDIENCE: What’s up, Julius!?
JULIUS: I’ll tell you motherfuckers what’s up! My personal ring announcer and butler is missing! I’m about to put that motherfucker’s picture on a milk carton or maybe on some street lamps with a twenty dollar reward! Besides that, I’m cool as fuck and happy to be back in the saddle for another episode of the motherfucking F Word! We’ve got one hell of a show for you tonight, but first, let’s take care of a serious piece of business. Somebody put that motherfucking graphic on the screen!
JULIUS: That’s right. My good, personal friend Jason Long is no longer among the land of the living. I guess there’s been some debate about his fate, but according to Savannah Sunshine, that motherfucker’s dead and gone. If anyone would know the truth, it’s his bubbly booty-call. So with this sad turn of events, I humbly dedicate this episode to his memory. Can we all bow our heads in a moment of silence for The King?
The crowd grows still as Julius bows his head in quiet contemplation. After a couple of seconds, he raises his head back up to continue.
JULIUS: Now let’s get this motherfucking show back on track!
“Once upon a time there was a man named Redd,
Who covered up his face with a mask on his head,
He had a thing for the ladies, but not in his bed,
It’s because of him that Jason Long wound up dead.”
“The boys lined up hoping Sav’s lips would pucker,
She fell for a few of them like some kinda sucker,
So if I catch Redd I’ll jackknife him like a trucker,
And my boy Jason Long? Rest in peace mother fucker.”
Julius wipes a non-existent tear from his eye as he sorrowfully shakes his head. His smile then returns in surprisingly quick fashion.
JULIUS: Now enough of that sadness bullshit! Let’s take a commercial break to cheer ourselves up and I’ll be right back with this week’s Fab Four!
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*All proceeds go to The Jason Long Memorial Fund in care of…*
J. Fairweather
1469 Jackson Rd.
Detroit, Michigan 48201
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JULIUS: For this final spot, I considered motherfuckers like Elena, Pyro, and Leslie, but once again, they had an advantage in their matches. I even considered myself, seeing as how I was the only survivor to actually survive, but out of respect to my fallen teammate, I ain’t gonna glorify my achievement. Instead, I’m giving this spot to a motherfucker who was just as impressive as Mason Destruction! Syndicate almost managed to survive his trial, and with Elena trying to kill his ass, that ain’t no small thing. Not only that, but he’s been making it clear that Fallout’s champions are on his hit list, along with the Legacy Champion herself. This motherfucker is one to watch, and since I’m in a match with both him and Mason next week, you can bet your asses I’m watching him real close. So based on his recent performances and his future potential, Syndicate has made my Fab Four! Congratulations, motherfucker!
The graphics fade from the screen so that the camera may once again focus upon Julius’ face.
JULIUS: There you have it! Those are the motherfuckers who made my ass stand up and pay attention this week. Were they on your list? I don’t fucking care, cause it’s my show and my list is the only one that matters! Don’t like it? Do something about it at the next Fallout and Proving Ground! Now don’t you go anywhere, cause we’ll be right back with this week’s F Grade after a word from our sponsors!
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NARRATOR: Introducing the next generation of Ginsu Knives! Redd’s special edition of blades are sharper, shinier, and stabbier than every other knife on the market! They can cut through a tin can with just one Long stroke, and then still pierce the ripe, fleshy skin of...a tomato! Use them to carve or filet...they’ll even work on your boyfriend...when you’re making him dinner! If you pass up this offer you’ll be burning Redd with rage, so order today! Our cheerful sales representative, Savannah, is standing by to take your order!
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When we return from break, Julius is staring at the camera with a dumbfounded expression.
JULIUS: Who the fuck is selling ad time for my show? That shit was just disrespectful! Do yourself a favor and don’t buy those knives! The DNA left on them may incriminate you in some sinister shit! Now then, speaking of sinister, it’s time for...
JULIUS: This is the regular time of the show where I tell you who’s pissed me off this week. To no one’s surprise, there were a lot of motherfuckers in contention this time around. You’ve got Redd for stabbing my South American bar fight brother, you’ve got people taking their toys and going home, and you’ve got motherfuckers in management who can’t seem to control all the shit going on around them. Well, one member of management stood out above the rest, and this one may come as a bit of a shock to the Motherfucking Friends of Fairweather…
JULIUS: Until then, we’ve got some half-sized pervert on the Proving Ground brand lobbying to take Caden’s motherfucking job. When that first started, I expected Caden to come charging in on a majestic white horse to defend his position and put that little motherfucker six feet under. Instead, we got nothing. Now Rock Johnson’s even agreed to let little Larry start a petition to have Caden removed from office. I can’t imagine the little motherfucker getting very many signatures, but the longer Caden shacks up with Joe Spicerack, the better his chances get. If this thing continues to play out, Lucky Larry KaChow will be one step closer to running the Proving Ground brand. I may be a proud, card-carrying member of Fallout, but I’d hate to see the original Project: Honor show sink like the motherfucking Titanic. I know I’ve got Caden Young’s back, but at this point, how do we know if he even cares?
JULIUS: Sure, I could have given Larry the F Grade, or maybe even bestowed it to Rock Johnson. Instead, I’m giving this one to Caden like the captain of a ship sending out an S.O.S. Hopefully he’s out there somewhere, standing on some rooftop, seeing this F Grade up in the sky like the motherfucking Bat Signal. Then, and only then, will Proving Ground City be safe from the evil machinations of the devious KaChow. Save us Caden Wan Kenobi, you’re our only hope.
The graphics fade so that we can see the serious expression on Julius’ face.
JULIUS: Don’t go anywhere motherfuckers. We’ll be right back after this final commercial break for this week’s F Bomb.
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fatality
[fāˈtalədē, fəˈtalədē]
NOUN
an occurrence of death by accident, in war, or from disease.
"shooting was heard and there were fatalities"
JULIUS: Son of a bitch...this show just keeps getting more and more bleak! That’s ok, because this week’s F Bomb is exclusively reserved for Jason Long. In fact, it could apply to any one of us at any time. This ain’t no theater or scripted show we’re putting on for Project: Honor! This shit is serious business! We’ve got motherfuckers being set on fire, dropped on their heads, and yes, prodded with sharp objects! So while one of our number may have succumbed to the damage he sustained at the hands of a faceless stalker, the rest of us should be holding our heads up high!
JULIUS: How many times have we faced that Grim Reaper down and told him, “not today, motherfucker”? While we may mourn the loss of Jason Long, we should also be celebrating our own survival! I know my ass is grateful to get out of bed every morning after nearly being run down by some crazy motherfucker who can’t drive! Pandalike may have suffered permanent cognitive damage at the hands of Pyro, but at least he’s still breathing! Motherfuckers like MYOJIN should take a moment to be thankful that they haven’t slipped off the top rope and landed on the other side of this mortal coil! How a guy like TJ Thompson can be kidnapped on a weekly basis and still be strutting around the land of the living is beyond me, but celebrate it, motherfucker!”
JULIUS: Yeah, we had a fatality last week, and it probably won’t be the last with the way DeMarco and Darling are booking things. So bow your heads, say goodbye to Jason Long, and then pour yourselves a glass of your favorite adult beverage and give a toast to life! Most of all, don’t fear that reaper, cause you’ve all got a bad motherfucker named Julius Fairweather watching your backs. On that note, we need more cowbell. Until next time, be cool or be gone.
If you would like to be a member of the studio audience for The F Word with Julius Fairweather, contribute to segments such as Viewer’s Verse, or advertise your product during the show, send your hand written correspondence along with your social security number and primary banking information to:
J. Fairweather
1469 Jackson Rd.
Detroit, Michigan 48201
And if you have any complaints, feel free to forward them up your ass, cause Julius don’t give a fuck.
