Special Weather Report [PJ LEMON]

A cheesy 80s era news graphic flashes across the screen with accompanying music. It’s a Special Weather Report! The title card falls away from the camera and there stands a figure. PJ Lemon stands in front of a screen that is flickering between green and a dated map of Las Vegas. Call it technical difficulties. Dressed in a pink power suit with a white button down and a yellow tie, Lemon has the RAZOR Wrestling World Championship around her waist. In her hand is a telescoping pointer.

PJ LEMON: Welcome to the SOUR POWER WEATHER REPORT, Las Vegas! I’m your weather girl extraordinaire and World Champion, PJ Lemon.

Lemon flashes an obnoxious smile and the shot switches from A camera to B camera. Very high production value.

PJ LEMON: It’s hot. It’s the desert. That’s usually what I’ve gotta tell you cunts but today we have quite a variation on the usual shit.

The World Champion smacks the pointer against the green screen and puts a hole in it. She doesn’t flinch, she just carries on with this mockery.

PJ LEMON: A STORM is coming. Sounds scary right? Well don’t be worried because this storm isn’t all that terrible. In fact the winds that it will produce could be compared to the passing of gas after a particularly gluttonous trip to Tacos Impios. There will maybe be a little bit of thunder, a small batch of lightning, a thimble of rain – but not much to be worried about at all. Leave the dogs outside, let the kids play under the tallest tree you can find – everything is gonna be okay. That’s a PJ Promise.

She winks with the back of her hand supporting her chin.

PJ LEMON: Y’see cunts, this storm is coming. No doubt about that. The areas that it has passed over in the last few months have been beaten into submission but now as it has reached its final destination it isn’t really a concern. It has been downgraded from severe to downright garbage. That’s because this storm ain't shit.

Lemon tosses the pointer out of frame and we hear someone say “Ow”.

PJ LEMON: You ain't shit, Marky.

The champion walks closer to A Camera and the shot switches. She pats on the World Championship like a drum with both hands while staring menacingly into the camera lens.

PJ LEMON: You’ve been gunnin’ for me since your first day in this company. We’ve been on a collision course. I was on another one at the same time. I met that challenge head on and now she’s laid up in a hospital somewhere. But I don’t want that for you, Marky. I need a hero. I can only look as nasty as I am if there is someone who is equally as righteous. That’s you. You’re my soulmate, mate.

A graphic card slides in front of the lens showing a rather awful cartoon of PJ Lemon squeezing Mark Storm so hard that blood is shooting out of the top of his head like a volcano. It’s surrounded by yellow and pink hearts. Lemon tosses it aside and smiles.

PJ LEMON: Don’t get all gooey because I don’t mean it like that. I find you hideous, matter of fact. I’d rather go a few rounds in the sheets with your manager and his delightful comb over. What I mean, cunt, is that you are a worthy adversary! The Holmes to my Moriarty, the Optimus to my Megatron, the Seinfeld to my Newman. Hope Freya wanted to be that but she couldn’t cut the mustard. But you, you’re far sharper aren’t you mate?

She pivots on the spot and starts walking toward A Camera and the shot switches expeditiously.

PJ LEMON: You’re undefeated. Big fuckin’ deal. So am I. I won’t say you haven’t faced a real challenge yet, because you have. But not one that runs on Sour Power. I’ve been tearing through this company like Ex-lax and I am starting to get really fuckin’ bored. You aren’t gonna bore me, are you Marky? ‘Course you won’t. You saw me coming when I tried to introduce you to my title and you put me down. I hope you enjoyed that because you won’t be doing that to Top Titty ever again.

Another shitty cartoon card pops up in front of the camera lens and it shows cartoon PJ stomping on Storm’s shattered skull. She is raising the World Championship in one hand and Gregory Murphy’s severed head in the other.

PJ LEMON: It’s not your time, Marky. Not yet. RAZOR needs a big bad and I’m her. These fans need someone to hate. This roster needs someone to fear. I’m all of those things wrapped up in one adorable package. A hero conquering this company doesn’t make sense. Your manager has told you that you’re surrounded by a literal murderers row and even though he is trying to put the best face on it he knows that you’re doomed.

She puckers her lips and kisses the camera lens.

PJ LEMON: This place isn’t for you. It’s mine. RAZOR Wrestling is my island and I’m Top Titty. I won’t stop saying it because it’s never not gonna be true. Get me? I always find a way to win. Don’t much care how I do it, as long as it gets done. This federation has seen exactly 1% of what I am capable of. I’ll set people on fire. I’ll kidnap their families. I’ll open the door to a room that they are in and then leave without closing it. I’m fuckin’ despicable.

Lemon paces a way a few steps and then turns on the spot.

PJ LEMON: I can weather you, Storm. I own several high end umbrellas. But what are you going to do when you realize that this is no place for heroes? You’re gonna break, Marky. Gotta say.