Homeless in Las Vegas (Greg Adkins RP)
Nov 13, 2020 0:52:48 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer and Cross Recoba like this
Post by vastrix on Nov 13, 2020 0:52:48 GMT -5
Las Vegas, Nevada, outside of a local Wal-Mart,
“Guttertrash” Greg Adkins sits by the turn to get into the Wal-Mart parking lot near the gas station. He has a sign written in marker.
“Homeless. Will give HJ for food and money”
Greg holds the sign out as a car drives by in the dim hope that the driver will take pity on him and give him some money or hire him and give him money.
He’s been here for days and thus far had collected enough money to hire lawyers to sue Alpha Grappling World for their hiring him and then firing him before he even stepped foot into the ring.
Greg sighs in defeat as several cars go by while trying their very best to not look in his direction as they continue driving on. He takes a swig of Fireball whiskey from a paper bag to try to keep himself warm. It might be Vegas, but it’s still in the fifty degree range. Cold to someone in ragged clothing and no jacket.
Greg sets the bottle down and reaches into the duffle bag that has his clothes, his booze, and...other things. Greg takes a vape pen out of the bag, setting the bag down. There is an etching on the side of the vape pen that says “Eternal”. It’s contents is a drug crafted by Troy Adkins that would keep a person up twenty-four hours a day and keep them alert. Like caffeine pills, cocaine, speed, and several other things all in one. It would almost certainly be illegal if the government knew about it, or wanted by the government…
Greg has the formula, the only thing passed down to him from his father’s death. He runs his fingers over the etching of the vape pen. He never spent much time with his father, never really knew him, but he missed him all the same. He was a chip off the old block in that he could easily take the formula and create more of the drug, Eternal.
But what to do with it? Should he sell it? Become an Eternal dealer? No side effects are listed, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t any. Could people die from doing Eternal? Could he? Would his conscience be able to handle selling a product that kills people? There was one way to find out what the side effects are even before going through the various ingredients to see if they did. And, it was in his hands.
Greg cautiously brings the vape pen to inspect it again. He presses a small button on the side of it to turn it on and places it to his lips. He breathes in deeply of the drug, holding his breath for a time, and then releasing the smoke with a sigh.
The first thing that he feels is his brain feeling like it were on fire. This spreads to his extremities until everything feels like it were on fire. As this passes, he feels energetic and alert as if he had drank one of them vitamin filled energy drinks. He puts the vape pent away and takes another shot of the Fireball whiskey to warm him up.
Another few cars come by the turn to go into the Walmart. Greg holds up his sign, making his face look particularly pitiful. A car stops on the way to the Walmart parking lot. He rolls down the window of what seems to be an quite expensive car. He rolls down the window and gives Greg a once over.
Guy: Fifty bucks for a handy-jay?
Adkins: You know it. Lemme get my stuff.
Greg puts his bottle and sign away into his bag. He picks up the bag and carries it where he gets into the passenger side of the car. A car that heads to the outer forty of the parking lot where the car remains running.
We don’t see from far off what exactly Greg Adkins is doing with the man, but we know. We know.
“Guttertrash” Greg Adkins sits by the turn to get into the Wal-Mart parking lot near the gas station. He has a sign written in marker.
“Homeless. Will give HJ for food and money”
Greg holds the sign out as a car drives by in the dim hope that the driver will take pity on him and give him some money or hire him and give him money.
He’s been here for days and thus far had collected enough money to hire lawyers to sue Alpha Grappling World for their hiring him and then firing him before he even stepped foot into the ring.
Greg sighs in defeat as several cars go by while trying their very best to not look in his direction as they continue driving on. He takes a swig of Fireball whiskey from a paper bag to try to keep himself warm. It might be Vegas, but it’s still in the fifty degree range. Cold to someone in ragged clothing and no jacket.
Greg sets the bottle down and reaches into the duffle bag that has his clothes, his booze, and...other things. Greg takes a vape pen out of the bag, setting the bag down. There is an etching on the side of the vape pen that says “Eternal”. It’s contents is a drug crafted by Troy Adkins that would keep a person up twenty-four hours a day and keep them alert. Like caffeine pills, cocaine, speed, and several other things all in one. It would almost certainly be illegal if the government knew about it, or wanted by the government…
Greg has the formula, the only thing passed down to him from his father’s death. He runs his fingers over the etching of the vape pen. He never spent much time with his father, never really knew him, but he missed him all the same. He was a chip off the old block in that he could easily take the formula and create more of the drug, Eternal.
But what to do with it? Should he sell it? Become an Eternal dealer? No side effects are listed, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t any. Could people die from doing Eternal? Could he? Would his conscience be able to handle selling a product that kills people? There was one way to find out what the side effects are even before going through the various ingredients to see if they did. And, it was in his hands.
Greg cautiously brings the vape pen to inspect it again. He presses a small button on the side of it to turn it on and places it to his lips. He breathes in deeply of the drug, holding his breath for a time, and then releasing the smoke with a sigh.
The first thing that he feels is his brain feeling like it were on fire. This spreads to his extremities until everything feels like it were on fire. As this passes, he feels energetic and alert as if he had drank one of them vitamin filled energy drinks. He puts the vape pent away and takes another shot of the Fireball whiskey to warm him up.
Another few cars come by the turn to go into the Walmart. Greg holds up his sign, making his face look particularly pitiful. A car stops on the way to the Walmart parking lot. He rolls down the window of what seems to be an quite expensive car. He rolls down the window and gives Greg a once over.
Guy: Fifty bucks for a handy-jay?
Adkins: You know it. Lemme get my stuff.
Greg puts his bottle and sign away into his bag. He picks up the bag and carries it where he gets into the passenger side of the car. A car that heads to the outer forty of the parking lot where the car remains running.
We don’t see from far off what exactly Greg Adkins is doing with the man, but we know. We know.
