The camera opens on an antique radio. A well-manicured feminine hand reaches out and turns the dial. Static fills most of the airwaves, until a familiar howling voice breaks through the white noise.
UL: “OOOOOH HAAAAVE MERCY! It’s the Lover’s block for Lover’s rock right here at station 99.7:The Cock!”
The soundbite of a crowing rooster, followed by a gnarly Wyld Stallyns esq. riff blasts through the radio.
UL: “Lover’s got a second job on the levers! And like Venus Flytrap and Doctor Johnny Fever, he’s got a powerful lust to make you all true believers! (that, and get a rent check so he can afford to eat bea-)
A loud buzz cuts Lover off. The harsh click of an inner com follows.
Station Rep: You can’t say that on air.
UL: Sorry, the Lover didn’t mean to be lewd. He wasn’t aware that our listeners were prudes.
Station Rep: I’m also going to need you to stop referencing 70’s sitcoms. Nobody in our demographic knows about “WKRP in Cincinnati”.
UL: Oh c’mon man! I was going to go for the cheap pop when Thanksgiving came around and I could bring up the turkey drop.
Station Rep: Nope. Not our wheelhouse.
UL: Well the Lover can be hip and up to date, if indeed that is the market you wish to satiate. How’s ’bout we play Loverboy, Poison, or Stryper? We’re a rock station afterall. That’s gotta be our demo type or-
Station Rep: Nope! Too old.
UL: Alright I get it you squirt. So what? Imagine Dragons? or Lil Uzi Vert?
Station Rep: Nope, neither fit our demo. Besides, we’re a radio station in 2022. We can’t afford to play those artists.
UL: Well forgive Lover for sticking out his neck, because I need this second job because I’m not booked; which means no CW check. I feel like I’m jumping through hoops here trying to find out our demographic, so why don’tcha tell me who we’re appealing to before things get graphic?
Station Rep: According to the analysis of our key market demo…we’re playing to an audience of single white females in their mid-30’s with a background in HR.
UL: That sounds very familiar…and oddly specific.
Station Rep: That’s because it’s just one woman.
UL: Wow! I gotta say my man, that’s just plain horrific.
Station Rep: Hey, it’s 2022. No one listens to the radio anymore. I’m not even 100% positive that the signal isn’t coming from our station. We might not even be on the air. Hold on, let me tune into the show.
UL: Well, this series of events gives the Lover a tinge of urgency. So let the Lover shout out that former angel from S&P. After all, at this rate The Lover might end up joining you in the bread line if he can’t get more listeners to tune in on this audio grapevine.
Station Rep: Good news! Our listeners just increased by 100%!
UL: Boss man, allow the Lover to clear up this miscommunication. I do believe that you yourself are still tuned in to this station.
Station Rep: Oh…right….well. It’s just down to the one again.
UL: Yeah, the Lover figured. But no biggie, he’ll get his platform soon. All Lover has to do is beat a hillbilly to get the public to stay tuned.
Station Rep: You think that’ll help the station numbers?
UL: Maaan, Lover don’t pretend to know or even care. Lover’ll be above this dump once he rips the gold away from that gnarly mass of hair.
Station Rep: Am I to take that as a tendered resignation?
UL: Dude only Angie listens to this godforsaken radio station! I hear the bulldozers approaching outside. This place will be free parking in a week. So don’t get on Lover’s bad side or show him any cheek. I’m ‘boutta win Premier gold and be a real American! Then Lover’s livin’ large after he beats redneck Captain Caveman.
Station: Well that’s a ways off and right now we’ve got hours to fill. You won’t be getting a day’s wage if you leave five minutes into the broadcast.
There’s a long silence as the Lover weighs his options.
UL: OH HAVE MERCY! THE LOVER’S BACK ON THE AI-!
The well-manicured hand reaches out and turns the radio knob all the way to ‘off’ as Angie formerly from S&P lets out an agitated sigh off-camera and the shot fades to black.