Kia Ford Attending The English Premiere Festivities

Despite having reservations at the bottom of the table, Kia Ford still felt safe and secure. “I do not care if I dine outside,” the star-spangled banner commentated about the early morning breakfast activity, “actually it is nice today.”

Out of nowhere, a large vehicle driving through the community interacted with a puddle, giving Kia Ford the revolutionary war water pistol treatment, “trucker boys, now you know why you are relegated!”

Putting down the teacup she watched the Peacock emerge from the Cafe interior, “what happened? Did you go for a swim? Without me?” The colorful marketable figure curiously inquired.

“No, a trucker boy speeding towards relegation doused me with pavement fluid,” Kia Ford clarified.

Adjusting the neck towel the Peacock hinted, beach time had arrived along with feeding the seagulls. “Did you bring disposable goal difference?” The Peacock checked.

“I am going to win the three points,” Kia Ford paused, “at the chance booths, of course.”

A short, few minutes later, the pair left the concrete sidewalks, immediately experiencing the postcard setting. “This is the good life,”

“Not having any commitments like FA Cups or Championship conferences,” the Peacock snarled, “just watch the seagulls sweep down and gather any spare goals they can.”

After the picturesque outdoor presentation, turned boring the two returned to the boardwalk, exploring tempting teases lining the resort towns crown jewel scenery. Kia Ford attention, suddenly, seemed captured when a sweet-smelling vagabond scoundrel character, working the crooked fragrance CEO water balloon game lured them into playing a competitive activity.

“Look, Peacock if you are the first to pop the CEO’s inflated head, you win a prize,” Kia Ford explained.

“And if someone else does?”

“Do not worry Peacock, I will spot you the pound.”

Seconds elapsed and both assumed their positions, handling the innocent plastic toy weapons properly, while the sweet-smelling vagabond scoundrel performed his entertaining duties, by saying “And go,” then declared the disappointing reality, “I win.”

“That wasn’t even thirteen seconds,” Kia Ford complained.

“It felt like thirteen minutes,” the sweet-smelling vagabond scoundrel noted.

“Did you get the goal you wanted?”

“You mean by looking like a sweet-smelling vagabond scoundrel? And getting a job inflating the head of a CEO fragrance guy?” The side show barker prophesized asking questions, “yes”.

Finding herself a goal down Kia Ford stepped away wondering what the Bowen shrine would advise during this hour.

“Everything is all right,” a voice beckoned projecting a salty air accent, “Kudos to your productive daily work, that is a goal.”

Straightening up Kia Ford felt leveled with the seagulls invading the ocean, goal fishing. Without any more guidance Kia Ford continued her journey, noticing a pinball machine sitting all alone, silent. Deciding electricity will ignite tickets and she would be able to buy a goal, the entertaining minute could prove worthy.

Keeping the ball alive, swatting the enclosed circular object, using levers, earning points. “Tommy really heard me,” she prayed until words ‘Game Over” hinted take the tickets and run.

Ripping off the small rectangular squares, Kia Ford announced, “I should have enough to get a prize.”

“Is it enough to bring three points home?” The Peacock investigated.

“No, Peacock this is a goal of mine and now I am on the way to getting the three points.”

Staying silent the Peacock observed Kia Ford, obtain a key from the attendant, ‘go through the three doors and take a whiff’, the employee suggested.

Once Kia Ford disappeared into the funhouse, the Peacock approached the arcade representative, “did she win a prize?”

“Yeah,” the worker explained, “a privileged chance to smell the new Japanese cologne product, Mitoma.”

“Does that get her the three points?” The Peacock followed up.

“No, it works like cotton candy,” the Peacock heard, distracted, seeing the cash register open and close.

Coming out Kia Ford enjoyed the aroma fetish, “this place is level with you, we no longer have the three points, have you lost your marbles?” Pleaded the Peacock.

“No, just the match,” Kia Ford replied going home with nothing, except a good time.