Kia Ford Attending The English Premiere Festivities

After getting leveled with Lily White, the united west ham woke up in a tizzy, realizing the lowercase red devil summoned a goal report from the star-spangled banner.

“Why does the red devil want to know my goal score?” Kia Ford exclaimed.

“End of year reports,” the Peacock quietly lowered the newspaper and peered up as the British flat proprietor entered the kitchen.

“Looking at our bottom line, Peacock, things are heating up,” Kia Ford surmised.

“I know we are cutting things close, but the red devil is doing the same,” the Peacock added, “that is probably why we are being called to his table.”

“We are on the same side,” Kia Ford mentioned.

“The bottom half,” the Peacock honestly clarified.

Going over towards the mirror, Kia Ford fixed the uniform collar, purposely wearing a white ensemble, she hoped would send the red devil the message, goals were the main priority, right now.

“Shall we go,” Kia Ford announced.

Standing the Peacock followed the boss out the door, onto the stoop, “do we go south for the red devil.”

“No, Kia Ford Old Trafford, is north.”

“Santa Claus is not an old Trafford,” Kia Ford corrected, taking offense.

“But he is a red devil,” the Peacock locked the door, flipping keys, “tis the season of giving souls.”

“Let’s go, Peacock,”

With the command rendered both proceeded down the path where successful ruins are stored away, wanting study, if found intact,

“You know those red devils have many distractions these days,” Kia Ford acknowledged approaching the Old Trafford cemetery setting.

“Wow, this place looks dead,” the Peacock declared.

“We are concentrating on hardware,” a voice bellowed challenging the bright sunlight.

“Climbing the highest mountain,” the Peacock asserted.

“Not exactly the highest one,” the red devil expressed, “one we can reach the peak. Can you say that? Kia Ford hammer girl.”

Glancing over catching the Peacock, Kia Ford’s shoulders shrugged, “we are searching for tomorrow, getting goals today.”

“Staying above water?” The red devil inquired.

“Not going below any demotion depths,” Kia Ford confirmed, picking up a shovel lying near a gravestone.

“What are you going to do with that?”

“In case I need it,”

“She plans on getting goals today,” the Peacock warned.

“Souls?” The red devil asked.

“Goals!” Kia Ford and the Peacock returned a unison shout.

“Oh yes,” the red devil backed off agreeing.

Thinking no one was around, Kia Ford started pleading, “Tommy? Can you hear me?”

Suddenly, a goal magically appeared, “amazing on how that works,” the Peacock noted.

“So, Kia Ford got a goal, good for the red, white and you,” the red devil smirked, “what could be next?”

Time passed and during the visits second half another trusting event took place. Feeling the spiritual sensation flow, Kia Ford’s body sensed the Bowen shrine activate.

“Peacock,” Kia Ford whispered, “the Bowen Shrine, it came alive, and I have two goals, and the red devil has nothing.”

“Maybe it is time for Kia Ford to depart and let me strategize my championship opportunity,” the red devil suggested.

Making a pivot, pointing themselves in the other direction the pair high tailed it out of the eerie location, sprinting home.

Walking down the long winding road they saw the most frightful sign. “What is it Arbor Day?” Kia Ford thought, checking her datebook.

“No,” the Peacock inserted, “Arbor Day was last month, those are tricky trees.”

“Kia Ford, welcome home, you think you are going to get passed us and get goals,” one overzealous tricky tree barked.

Standing her guard, she affirmatively shook her head.