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Greg Adkins v Anaquin Adams; Final Round
Topic Started: Mar 28 2018, 05:11:41 PM (215 Views)
SCW Admin
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Greg Adkins v Universal Superstar Anaquin Adams (OWA)

The final round. Three Million Dollars on the line as these two face on a Transatlantic cargo ship. Unfortunately, because of a timing misunderstanding, these two superstars will not be able to board the ship as it leaves port. Instead, they will need to be flown in...but the chopper can't land, so they will need to rappel from the helicopter, to the deck. The entire ship will be available to use as well as any weapons. So long as the referee doesn't see or care.

Promo Deadline: 4/14/2018
Promo Limits: None
Voting Deadline: 4/17/2018
Promo to be posted here as a reply.
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Curtain Jerker
[ * ]
"The vision of Hyperion, the ultimate of betrayals must have caused the masses from fleeing in record numbers. It's as if they fell into the dark chasm of the abyss, or perhaps flew into the ultimate of black holes never to be seen again. All except for one. Greg Adkins. Welcome to the finals. Welcome to the end."

The starry sky is shown as the camera pans down to the form of Anaquin Adams, sitting on a pier that overlooks a very quiet lake. The light of the well-lit moon shines down upon her, covering her cloaked head and body as she has been meditating up to the point the camera crew from Hyperion showed.

"So as quietly they fell into the great unknown, leaving only you and I to do battled for the crown, the glory, the greatest of prizes. And so we will."

She rises and as she steps from the pier, the clop of her boots as they hit each wooden plank along the way, until they finally silence when she reaches the grass.

"You see, Greg Adkins, you show the world how you live a debaucherous lifestyle, drugs and sex and a non-stop party environment. You act like you play against all rules, while deep down you know it's untrue. Perhaps not entirely untrue, but an exaggeration of sorts. Or perhaps, this is the real you and in that case, I most certainly have nothing to worry about during the finale of this tournament."

Her cloak drops as she begins to stretch, one by one, pulling at each muscle, preparing them for her upcoming workout. "That lifestyle most certainly doesn't lead to championship, and will most certainly not lead you to the crowning of this tournament. I most certainly will not be taken lightly. Brush me off, if you desire, but understand I will show you no mercy once your ineptness comes to light. That moment when you realize you should have studied for this test, rather than binge on the moral decay of your generation."

She kneels down on the grass and begins to remove one boot and then the other, socks coming off after. "Greg Adkins, when the bell rings and our bodies collide for the final time in this tournament, you will know that a true athlete has bested you in combat. That a true athlete has taken you as serious as any athlete can. That a true athlete will be standing over your fallen body with her hand raised and announced as the winner of the Hyperion tournament."

She stands back up, moving back towards the pier. She reaches up and pulls her hair back into a ponytail, tying it back with a band. She digs her toes into the grass as she prepares herself for what is to come. "Greg Adkins, I suggest you prepare yourself. If you come at Anaquin Adams, Universal Superstar with anything less than one hundred percent, then do not bother to even show. So, Greg Adkins, what will it? Will you be the battle I deserve and come as Agon or will you allow your self-indulgant alter-ego allow you to come as Aergia, and hand me an easy win? Only you can decide."

And with that, she turns towards the water and begins to run. The thump of her feet begin again as she reaches the pier and at the end, she dives into the lake and begins to swim, leaving the camera crew with the distinct impression that this interview is now over.
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GREG ADKINS: Shall I go in as Agon or Aergia? Is that really the question Anaquin Adams?

Greg Adkins sits in the darkened alley between two tall buildings in an unknown city that has skyscrapers. Heís wet, heís dirty, and one leg lays in a puddle of what could be water, but might be piss. Greg has a bottle of cheap wine sitting next to him as he smokes from a crack pipe.

GREG ADKINS: You want to know if Iím going to come straight at you in a fight or if Iím going to laze about in the ring. Did you know see me defeat my last opponent while finger banging a couple of high schools students, that I swear were eighteen, at the same time? I donít know if you know what Iím going to come at you as and it both scares and gets you river wet. Talking about your lower lips have more drool coming from them than Niagra Falls cause you donít know if Iím going to kick your ass or lick it.

Greg takes another hit from his crack pipe, holding it in for a bit, and then releasing the smoke. Itís a crystallized form of the chemicals extracted from weed for a more potent high.

GREG ADKINS: I am already a championship material wrestler. I held a title in a company. They may have fired me for drug usage and for trying to sell drugs to my fellow wrestlers, but that is wholly beside the point. So how do you think that Iím going to come at you? Like Dionysis? Maybe Iíll come at you like Zeus and come at you with a combination of wrath and seduction? In the middle of the match, in the middle of the cargo ship, I could plow the fuck out of you like there was no fucking tomorrow. Fuck, after that you could pin me. I get in the V, you get the V. Shit, that kind of a fucking bargain is a no brainer. Check this shit outÖ

Greg sets the crack pipe to the ground to take a long pull from the cheap wine with a satisfactory burp afterwards. He rips away the sleeve from his right arm and flexes to show that he has a mild bulging muscle. A sure sign that he works out...likely from having all of the sex that he can with both men and women.

GREG ADKINS: Maybe I come at you like Ares? A warrior born who flies into battle without a thought for tactics and the like. Or like the Ares who slips into the bed of Aphrodite while her husband is working at the forge. Maybe I come at you like Cronos and eat you all up. You might like that too much, me lapping at the bearded clam like I was dying of thirst at the desert. Or maybe I could come at you like Hades. My claws pulling you down to the underworld to be imprisoned in my grasp forever. Like pulling down those panties on the cargo ship so I can go two knuckles deep!

The camera focuses on Greg, going closer to where only his upper body is in the picture. His right arm seems to be shaking as he looks into the camera.

GREG ADKINS: Hmmm. What other gods and titans could I come at you as? Uranus would just be too obvious as I come wreck your anus. Poseidon would be alright. I mean it would be a wave of juices flowing from that tight pussy of yours.

You want to come at me like some superior fucking athlete when I bet you are really a secret whore like any other fucking woman athlete. All you want to do is get near the ďDĒ in a match so you can at least catch a whiff of the awesomeness. You know what youíll be looking for at the end of the night. Aaaaaahhhh!

The camera view pulls back a little as Greg raises his hand for the camera to reveal a hand coated in spunk from just whacking himself off.

GREG ADKINS: This is going to be you at the end of the night, Anaquin Adams. Defeated and covered in spunk.

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Curtain Jerker
[ * ]
A montage of scenes appear during this particular promo. First, Anaquin is climbing the rocky edge of a cliff, slowly making her way up the enclave. She gets as high as she possible can with the occasional slip, though she manages to hold on with her hands. She completes the climb by using just her hands until she feels the lip of the cliff edge and pulls herself to the top.

The next scene shows her swimming across a lake. There are no waves, per say just the gentle sway of the current as it bobs to and fro. She ducks her head down, swims several strokes before pulling her head back to get some breath and continues forward. As she nears the small island, she can finally feel the lake floor at her feet and she stands and walks to shore.

The scene cuts away to later in the day, she using her hands to climb a tree, grabbing a branch, making sure that itís sturdy for her weight and then pulling herself up. Climb after climb, she continues upwards and she finally makes it to the peak of the tree.

Sheís training in her hidden lair, four large punching bags in a circular formation around her as she kicks and punches each one. Thereís a fire inside of her as she connects with each of the bag, the force of the blow pushing each back away from the center of the circle. Each connect earns a loud grunt from the warrior as she hammers the leather bags. She lets out a final grunt as she hits one of the bags one last time and then finally turns to the camera. ďGreg Adkins. Iím supposed to address you and your words. Well, let me give you the response you deserve.Ē

With that she turns and walks away from the camera as the image fades.
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We open to a montage of different video scenes, because who doesnít like that?

ďGuttertrashĒ Greg Adkins is in a trashy trailer at a trailer park, having converted the entire place into a meth lab. He stands over a number of cooking sheets of meth crystal as he taps it with a hammer to break it up.

We flash to a street basketball court where a bunch of players sit around in a circle with the basketball itself forgotten in the corner of the court. Greg Adkins sits with the bunch of them while passing several pipes around loaded down with meth.

GREG ADKINS: This is premium shit now. This is the kind of shit that you would smoke if you were Anaquin Adams and trying to gather up the courage to face me in the mother fucking wrestling ring. Do you believe that the bitch refused to respond to my words? Sheíll respond to my dick in the ring. Right?

The guys in the circle high five one another and give whatís essentially agreeable noise to what Greg has to say. Not that any of them really know what Greg is talking about or who Anaquin Adams actually is. They hear something that sounds a lot like sex and cheer for it.

We switch to a darkened back alley thatís underneath an elevated train. Itís raining out so the water is coming down in streams here and there. Greg Adkins sits against a support beam while drinking from a fifth of gin. A naked woman is on the ground by him with his dick in her mouth. Greg laughs, pouring a little gin on his junk to give her a little taste.

GREG ADKINS: You like what you see, Anaquin? Your response to me was to walk away. You think that I give a flying fuck that you have no response to me? You were giving me the response that I deserved. Let me give you the response that you deserve.

Greg moans as the girl continues to suck on his dick like a champion. He glides his hand down her back, reaching as far as he can until he glides a finger into her asshole. He plunges the finger in and out a few times before withdrawing it and wiggling the finger under his own nose.

GREG ADKINS: A regular bouquet of wonderful scents. The natural musk of a woman is quite intoxicating. Is it not? Why I think that-

Greg stops speaking for a moment as he fills the womanís mouth full of man gravy.

GREG ADKINS: This is the kind of response that you deserve, Anaquin. One that sees you naked and defeated. You think that showing me scenes of you being all athletic will make someone give a fuck?

The woman pulls her head away from Gregís shrinking penis. Greg just laughs before she kisses him passionately and well...look up snowballÖ

Greg looks to the camera with a baby gravy grin.

GREG ADKINS: Just think of what I could do with three million dollars, Anaquin. Well, youíll know cause youíll be on this dick quicker than...well quicker than quick!

Greg kisses the woman again and reaches into a small bag by the side of them.

GREG ADKINS: Lemme pop a pill right quick to supercharge the comeback trail. That is...cumback trail.

Greg Adkins tosses back his head and laughs like a maniac as the camera fades to black.

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Curtain Jerker
[ * ]
"So you weren't a fan of my last vignette? Boo-hoo, my feelings are hurt."

Anaquin Adams is sitting in her typical meditation posture, covered in her cloak, the hood over her eyes. She doesn't move from her position as she speaks.

"You, Greg Adkins, are nothing more than a typical, crude, poor example of a male in your species. However, I'm still trying to determine what species that might be. You see, you stand and spout your lowly rhetoric in some effort to lift your lowly stature, or perhaps appeal to the lowest common denominator."

She reaches up and pulls the hood back and just smirks, "But that's okay. You appeal to who you appeal to. I suppose you can't help it. You place yourself down in the lowlands with the muck and the mire and actually relish doing so, while I work myself each and every day in order to become the best there is in the profession of my choosing Ė professional wrestling."

"You just continue what you're doing and when the day comes that we square off in the ring, understand that my first priority is to win the tournament of Hyperion as is my destiny. But now, I feel that I might need to instruct you on to properly prepare oneself for a professional wrestling match of this magnitude and send you back to the lowlands from which you came with an embarrassing defeat."

"Wish upon yourself whatever your feeble imagination can conjure up. It doesn't make it true and the only time in which we will come into contact of any nature is when I am placing my hands upon you in order to inflict as much punishment as I can possibly create."

"And once my hand is raised in victory, I'll allow you to crawl your way back to the nature of your depravity and to go back to your petty little life, with your petty little drugs and your companions of the lowest possible caliber. You can regale them with tall tales on how you were in the ring with greatness and perhaps you'll even lie to them about the outcome to make yourself look superior, but deep down you will know that you've been defeated by the best this sport has to offer. You'll know that only by sheer luck and apathy, did you even climb the ladder to the finals, only to be vanquished by a woman. Because what you fail to realize is that I'm not just a woman. I am a warrior. A gladiator. And as I inflict every bit of punishment I can upon you..."

She smiles, "I will enjoy every moment of it."
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We open to a throne room. A throne of dark wood and silver that a naked Greg Adkins sits upon with two naked women and two naked men at his feet. All of them bear collars that chain them to the throne.

GREG ADKINS: Oh baby. Warrior. Gladiator. Woman. Youíll inflict every bit of punishment that you can upon me? Do you fucking promise? You think I fail to realize who you are? Youíre a harlot that desires nothing more than for all of the attention of the world to be lauded upon her. Just because youíre going to want to protest and say otherwise doesnít mean a fucking thing. Attention is fucking attention, be it a three million dollar prize or a hard dick stuck in your cooter. One just means that you can get more of the other. Which will get which should be self explanatory.

Greg places his hand by his face as if revealing a secret to a trusted friend.

GREG ADKINS: In your case, youíll need to milk a whole fuckload of engorged dicks to get that three million dollars cause you ainít going to get it by defeating me.

Greg sighs and claps his hands together.

GREG ADKINS: I am ready to be bathed.

The men and women begin the process of bathing Greg Adkins by lathering him in scented oils and scraping the oils away with straight razors. Yes, this does mean that you wonít find a bit of body hair upon the slender, pock marked body of Greg Adkins. One of the girls begins to spend a little extra time at the genitals, coaxing Greg into an impressive stiffness.

GREG ADKINS: Oh Anaquin Adams. You say that you are the best of your field and Iím something of low class. Sex sells to everyone, even you. Thereís no denying the fact that Iím going to defeat you in the middle of the ring, strip you naked, and fuck you in front of millions of fans. Iím sure somewhere in the crowd your parents will be horrified as you scream my name in the middle of the ring and I plow you after plowing you like taking care of snowy roads in Winter.

Greg sits back down as the woman continues to work his cock in her hands and mouth, the others having finished bathing Greg, and have begun to work on one another.

GREG ADKINS: You know what the funniest thing that you said was? That you work yourself every day to become the best there is at the profession of your choosing. Donít lie to yourself in stating that your chosen profession is professional wrestling. You have only chosen that because for some reason you canít manage to get paid for sex like any other good woman.

Letís get honest here. All women are hookers. The man has to put out cash for dinner and gifts in order to get a little loving? Prostitution at its finest! Yeouch!

Greg looks down at the woman who had bitten him for calling all women hookers. Greg just shrugs apologetically.

GREG ADKINS: I may have misspoke a little bit...okay! okay! A lot of bit. My point here is this, bitch. You think yourself so far above me, because your advanced training in wrestling in a wrestling competition makes you somehow better than me. Like that logic ever works in the sport known as professional wrestling.

Iím going to kick your ass. Iím going to get you naked in the middle of the ring. Iím going to pump you so full of baby gravy that shit is going to come out of your ears. What do you think the FCC is going to think about that?

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