TMZ.com Exclusive
#AdamAllocco is trending after a photo went viral on social media this weekend. Though blurry and poor angle, the photograph is believed to be that of SCW Wrestler, Adam Allocco, getting saucy with a fellow passenger in the back of the Southwest Airlines flight to Honolulu. If anyone ever heard of this sexually depraved man, they would know he has no shame as evident in his appearances for the national television for the wrestling promotion, often showing up to events intoxicated and engaging in activities that makes even the most deviant of us blush. According to eyewitnesses, the man in the photo had lifted up the skirt of the woman before making his way down past the point of no return. Southwest never advertised that rimming would be on the inflight snack menu.
We’ve reached out to representatives of both SCW and Adam Allocco, but they have declined to comment. We’ll continue to try to confirm the identity of this brazen sex friend. Fellow passengers complained about an awful stench and odd noises, only for the flight attendants to discover this very public display of anal affection.
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Freedom never tasted any sweeter. Hell, Adam felt this innate desire to wave an American flag everywhere he went, to show people that he was freer than all the rest. But freedom came at an expense. His whole porngraphic empire had been seized from him. He needed to start over. The same could be said about his life partner, Bison. Despite Adam basically being institutionalized, Bison not once called Adam. The people at the rehab center told him he had to shred his old friends group and build up a newer, better support system. So that meant scouting and recruiting. Lucky for Adam, the dawn of the high speed internet had paved the way for a very robust camgirl industry. These modern day strippers were willing to do a lot more for the camera than your average working girl, mainly because of the false sense of security the internet provided them. They were his marks. He could convince them to join with the promises of recognition and with that, more money.
Adam stole a laptop during his escape from Happydale Ranch of St. Dymphna. He did what he needed to do to wipe the harddrive. Look kids, even grandpa Adam knows how to use Youtube to figure out his IT needs. There he pulled out Bison’s capital one credit card and made accounts on all the popular webcam sites. He narrowed his search down to Americans, because he could no longer trust foreign nationals. Armed with an energy drink and bottle of lube, he worked his way, grading each model according to a very fine tuned rubric. He avoided tipping when possible.
One pair of these digital femme fatales stood out to him above all the rest. A lesbian couple that broadcasted as a team, together, sharing not only the proceeds of the tips they earned throughout the night but also a big black double headed dildo. Both women displayed the type of strength you’d find in a triple crown-winning stud, thrusting into each other, making each move look devastatingly on one another, both giving enough to get the other off. They were perfect yin-yang. One busty, with an hourglass figure and red hair, a Jessica Rabbit in human form played the role of the domme. The other petite and graceful, seeming young for her actual age and a certain adorability that spoke tainted innocence filled the role of the sub. Convinced these two girls would be perfect for his new initiative, Adam private messaged them:
KingofHARDdick (07/15/21 00:43:12): Sup, bb
2Girls1Tip (07/15/21 00:43:24): Tip for pm plz
KingofHARDdick (07/15/21 00:43:59): No, I’m doing you a favor here.
2Girls1Tip (07/15/21 00:45:02): U think your special?
KingHARDdick(07/15/21 00:45:32): I come with an opportunity. I’m a producer of top porngraphy, award winning and highly successful. Both of you come to work for me. I promise that with my guidance, you two will be recognized by every male in existence.
Sorry, this user is currently offline.
“Blocked, huh? They were too young anyways. Naive little girls think they can make it in this cutthroat industry. They probably think they’d be rich forever at this rate, but the older they get, the harder they will be. They’re gonna look back at this moment and regret not accepting my offer,” Adam spoke aloud to an empty room. He continued his search but none of the ladies seemed interested because he wasn’t blowing precious tokes on them. Short-term mindsets plagued this potential talent pool. Maybe he should consider picking up some street walkers. No, escorts? Adam scratched furiously at his head. He couldn’t trust any of them. They were all hungry whores that were only useful for a short period of time and once you blew your load, you went onto the next one with STD panels performed in between.
An idea popped in his head. If the prospect’s autonomy was an issue, why not get around it? No, not by drugging women and then filming them while they’re unconscious, because only scumbags do that. No, in today’s modern world, technology had advanced enough that he no longer needed breathing participants. And no, he was talking about necrophilia, because only the most desperate freaks go down that route. No, he was talking about robots, sexbots if you will. He bet that Japan had a bunch of operational, fully functional androids and that was why they had negative population growth. Why bother with the overbearing emotional rollercoaster that was women when you could get the same pleasure from a device that only purpose is to get you off. Sure, there were fleshlights, but he was pulling out the big guns. Unfortunately, he didn’t know a lick of Japanese. He had to go to an expert.
“Hiro, buddy. Long time no talk.”
“Who is this?”
“Come on, don’t tell me you don’t remember the sound of my voice.”
“Seriously, who is this?”
“Adam Allocco. The man you owe big time for getting you popular in the wrestling world,” Adam reintroduced himself to one of his pupils after years of neglect and radio silence. Hiro Tanaka had been denser than stone so it was actually a Christmas miracle he had some success. What he lacked in critical thinking and language skills, Hiro always made up with due diligence.
“You backstabbed me. You turned Celeste against me.”
“That’s all water underneath the bridge, bud. If you want to get down to the nitty gritty; yes, I suppose I did you some wrong but I was trying to toughen you up, prepare you for a career after Adam Allocco. This is a ruthless sport and you can’t count on anyone for help. So anyways, I need your help,” Adam said. He didn’t know why people lingered on the past so much. Grudges just weighed you down. When business opportunities arise, you push beside your egos and focus on the potential profit. He didn’t understand how people could be so blind by their emotions. Sure, Adam screwed Hiro, but it was all business. Plus, it was Celeste’s fault for being so easily manipulated. Hiro should have thanked Adam for saving him from that trainwreck. More importantly, everyone knows that what doesn’t kill you makes you strong. Adam made him stronger.
“Do you think I’ll help you?”
“Good, you get it. You’re going to help me. I need you to go on the internet— let me see how I can word this way the right way so you easily understand what I need. Locate me a mecha, but one built for sex. Need to be fairly hassle free in setting up and fully functional. Money’s not an object so let me give you my credit card and address,” Adam said. Of course, Adam gave Bison’s credit card number over the phone and the address was the compound. He hoped that the Russians had cleared out and went back to their home country. He didn’t want to be an asshole and evict them, but after that stunt they pulled on the Fourth, he debated having to go to such extremes.
Hiro hung up without uttering another word. Adam smiled. He knew Hiro wanted to get to work on this special project. Adam might have to reward Hiro if he pulls through. He didn’t know how, but perhaps Adam could work out a tryout with SCW. He heard the bum was unemployed.
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A large crate appeared in Adam’s driveway. Stickers covered the outside of the crate with Asian characters dictating various warnings and information. Adam arrived shortly after the delivery to the compound. He yanked a crowbar from his back shed and popped open the huge crate. The sides fell down, greeting Adam was a seven-foot tall robot with a magnificent rhinoceros horn arching out from the groin. Adam’s jaw dropped. That rat bastard ordered a male sexbot. What was Adam supposed to do? He guessed that in some ways this was a suitable replacement for Bison Jones. Adam lifted up the user manual tapped onto the thigh of the mecha. What use was the manual if Adam couldn’t understand Japanese? Adam tossed the booklet down and unboxed the remote control. He started pushing buttons but nothing happened! He kicked the useless iron giant and immediately regretted it. He hopped up and down, holding his foot, wailing in pain. He didn’t notice Petya had walked up to him.
“Adam, tell your friend Petya why you ran away from rehab?”
“Jesus, dude, don’t sneak up on me!”
“I do what I must.”
“Now listen here. I went to rehab and I was cured. I aced rehab so that they let me go early. Don’t underestimate me next time.”
“That’s not what the nice lady on the phone says. She says you ran away.”
“Must have confused me for someone else. There were so many of those drunkards and crackheads running amok in there and so few of them. People with real issues, Petya. I even met your American counterpart there. They took one look at me and were like ‘this is a normal chap and he doesn’t belong here’ and then let me go,” Adam explained. He thought the fabrication was believable enough to convince meatball.
“Nice story, you should be a novelist. You think your friend Petya is stupid, but I must let you know that I won my grammar school spelling bee, three years in a row! Now let’s return you back to where you belong before Dmitri gets mad at both of us.” Petya cracked his knuckles. Adam backpedaled. He didn’t see the gun. He should run, he could definitely outrun this man. Adam continued to step away until he bumped the back of his head on a cast iron dick. Even if it was the last thing he’d do, Adam planned on murdering Hiro.
“What is this! Darling… this statue is so BEAUTIFUL,” Anastasia screamed, stepping out from the house. She immediately ran towards it and hugged it. “Very masculine, this work of art shouts manhood!”
“It was supposed to be a surprise. This is Bison’s replacement. It is supposed to be moved but the remote isn’t working. I think it’s defective.” Adam ignored Petya now and focused on Anastasia. Maybe he could cause some dissension in the ranks. Divide and conquer, baby, that’s how you play the game.
Anastasia snatched the remote control. “Look, darling, no batteries!”
God damn it, batteries should always be included. Adam debated calling Hiro up and forcing him to leave a bad review on whatever site he ordered this from. Petya prevented him from doing so, yanking Adam from behind and locking him into the most devastating hammerlock ever.
Back to rehab he went.
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Before I dump my load on another aspiring starlet, another starry-eyed blonde suffering from arrested development, let me address the elephant in the room. I hate to be a buzzkill and ruin all your fun on social media! But honestly, HONESTLY, I am not the man in that photograph. Don’t get confused. I am a proud card-carrying member of the Mile High Club with enough punches to earn myself a free quickie in the cockpit. Unfortunately, for the past few months, I’ve been a prisoner of rehab. I have been deprived of the liberty that every true blooded American like myself is entitled to. I’m not saying that tossing a woman’s salad is beneath me, because if you subscribe to my OnlyFans, you will clearly see that I’m a man of many talents. On top of that, I’m also very protective of my air miles because a man of my importance needs to fly first class all the way, none of this rubbing elbows with commoners. And that woman? Come on! She seemed definitely past her expiration, just like my opponent this week!
Speaking of which, talk about false advertisement! SEXY… FLAWLESS… DIVA? Sexy Flawless Diva, say that six times. What a mouthful to say, doesn’t even roll off the tongue like a good marketable moniker. A proper nickname sounds smooth like a baby’s behind. And that, my friends, is just the tip of the shitberg I’m heading towards this week.
Let me put on my gloves, I’m going to be driving fist first into this crap. Stop lying to us. You’re no longer sexy. You’re definitely not flawless. The only thing you get right is calling yourself a diva. You’re the chick who couldn’t find a date to the big dance so you became a third wheel. There’s reasons why we don’t want to play, Keenie, and none of them are flattering to you. Shocker? Maybe to you, babe, but this is what the rest of us are thinking. I call it like it is. And since I’ve been told to take my job more seriously from the top, I should start caring about the quality of wrestlers we have on our roster. And babe, you’re not it. Maybe five years ago, back when you could argue that you were a hot commodity with a huge upside. Young, perky, and refreshing, but that’s obvious in the past. Now? You’re stale. Probably got mold growing in some of those folds.
That’s one flaw, but I got a whole list of your imperfections. John Legend would never sing about yours tho, they’re nasty.
So many flaws but only so little time. The average attention span of the average SCW fan is 1.4 minutes.
Yeah, no one wants to hear a 25 minute sermon from a woman who acts like she belongs on Disney+. You’re in your 30s, trying so hard to be adorable with ‘Keenie’ this and Keenie’ that, but it’s just creepy now. Stop. Ain’t no one is finding that shit sexy. No one finds such an act charming. It’s just disturbing, a supposed woman of status is acting the same as some 14 year old thot on tik tok. Your skin aged into leather. Photoshop brushes can’t cover up your crowd feet and sagging… eyes anymore. You look like a mom of five, from three different fathers, trying to make ends meet working every night at some pitstop strip club. Put your long face on a poster, call you Mr. Ed, and maybe, then maybe we get some entertainment out of you.
Sorry, for someone who is supposed to be perfect, you really do make a lot of dumb life choices. You married Jon Knots for fuck’s sake. The only reason I gave that man a shot in this industry was because his girlfriend at the time gave me a blowie underneath the desk. We will never know the answer to who was more desperate, you or Jon? Either way, doesn’t matter, because no one will find HIS sloppy seconds to be enticing. Maybe we’ll stare at the car wreck between your legs with some horror. Now, speaking of car wrecks, your acting needs a lot of work, honey. Even my girls have more acting acumen than you. And your choice in movies, you’re further dumbing down our society with that trash you parade around as cinema. You can pretend you’re now part of the Hollywood elite all you want, but we all know you’re back in SCW because it’s not smooth sailing as you proclaim.
But your biggest mistake is just on the horizon!
You’re going to write me off as some drunk. Someone who doesn’t belong in the ring with you. You’ll push me aside, lecture us about how you deserve to be in the main event and this is just a warm up. Don’t underestimate me. I’m going to be the one to take you out. And not to a nice seafood dinner, but I’ll ship you to the back of the line where you belong. You can keep meddling where you’re not welcome but it’s only a matter of time you’re going to be punched in the face. You shouldn’t have been dropped at the top of the card, regardless of how successful your career once was or how you still got some gas left in that tank. I find it highly insulting that you got to start up where you left off, but I have had to crawl up from the very bottom to work myself to where I am today. You didn’t see me getting a United States title shot right off the bat, despite the fact that I never lost the belt in competition. Seeing you walk back in the door from Hollywood with your tail between your legs and get given the red carpet treatment is batshit insane. We all know Mr. D is a simp, but he’s outdoing himself. Maybe Jon gave him a blowie underneath his desk, am I right?
Maybe he should take his position more seriously. But fuck it. If he wants a more serious Adam, he gets it. I can’t promise he’s going to be happy with the consequences of his little pep talk. The disrespect he showed to talk to me in such a fashion. I’m just sick of it. I’m sick of being the joke. I’m sick of people messing with me. I’m sick of being pissed on. And you know what, yeah… I cheat! I admit it! But I only cheated because I am a charitable man and I wanted to provide a reason for my fallen foes to cling onto. Consider it a mercy. I didn’t want them to realize that their pursuit of happiness was doomed from the beginning because they aren’t able to hold a candle to my wrestling prowess. That’s right, this over the hill piece of crap can run circles around you on that mat! But that Adam is no more. I’m going full metal now, baby. This is my time to shine. I’m done elevating my peers. I’m through training wrestling champions. I’m through being the fun, lovable father figure. Why do I have to wait for an opportunity when hussies like you can get a headline match?! But Adam, you just got pinned in that shitshow of a match, ha ha ha. You were the weakest link, GOOD BYE!
Keep daydreaming, people.
I’m here and I adhere.
Sooner or later, Keenie, you’re going to figure out that you’ve been reduced to some bit player, a supporting actor, part of the ensemble of The Adam Show. Doesn’t matter how good you are, now or then. By putting you in your place, everyone will see now that I’m the main attraction. I’m the star of this show. The King of HARDStyle has decided that he’s going to take things a bit more seriously and that my friends, is going to make your lives all harder. Boohoo, you goddamn whiny millennials.
If I can’t be happy, no one can be.
If I’m not allowed any longer to have fun, no one else can either!
Not on my watch. So Mr. D, the historic living embodiment of buzzkill that you are, I hope you will end up regretting reigning me in like this! The last thing you should have wanted is for me to become the face of your company. Trust me, you’re going to feel real stupid kicking my ass into gear like this. So KEENIE, I hope your homecoming was all that you wanted it to be, becaus it’s downhill from here. No one’s going to suck up to you. No one’s going to beat around the bush about how unwanted you really are here. You’re not what this company needs right now, in fact, you’re just weighing us down.
Welcome to The Adam Show! Now get off my set!
King of HARDstyle 
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