Kia Ford Attending The English Premiere Festivities

Toolbelt secured, the Peacock possessed an intellectual stare, not being able to put a feather on the bubble machine’s plaguing problems.

“Festive time is almost over, and we do not have many goals!” Kia Ford emerged, “there are no goals on our sheet, only partying.”

“Boys in the band entertained us with five strong sets getting five goals,” the Peacock proclaimed, seeing Kia Ford’s blurry eyes.

“What great goals, they did score,” she respectfully stated finding a seat finally noticing something wrong, “what happened there?”

Turning around the Peacock honestly explained, “don’t you remember fracturing the foot of the Bowen Shrine alter? When you kicked it?”

Suddenly a throbbing pain jolted Kia Ford’s memory, “oh yeah, that is right.”

“No goals, Kia Ford, Boxing Day, everybody watching, only a Bowen Shrine podiatry issue,”

“But we got good ratings?”

“Boys in the band did, but you,”

“What should I do about that?” Kia Ford innocently asked.

“Get your name out with the citizens,” the Peacock suggested, “march down there and mingle.”

With the hour getting dark Kia Ford and the Peacock donned their white uniforms invading the late Saturday afternoon hot spots. Upon arriving, Kia Ford spotted an old professional colleague, “Hey there’s Jude,” the American mover and shaker acknowledged.

Letting Kia Ford confront the social situation, the Peacock watched and learned, “Kia Ford,” Jude waved, “your energy is such an inspiration!”

Taking a step back hearing the positive notation and being well-schooled about the citizens’ successes, Kia Ford carefully conversed with her colleague, “Rumor say you lost some Pep? Jude,”

“Yeah, that was so last year,” Jude retorted, “we already got a goal and happy hour just started.”

“This early, huh,” Kia Ford commentated, “I have not seen a goal in, I do not remember.”

“I do,” Jude smirked, “getting the best of her bestie.”

Continuing the meeting despite the negative sentiments, the first half seemed competitive until Jude had a little fun with the stars and stripes banner. Well, it seems like I have another goal, “Haa to your land,” the Royal subject grinned.

“Very funny,” Kia Ford unsettled, realized another forty-five minutes elapsed and still not a goal.

Returning Jude, still being humorous ordered one more jousting round, “you get it, haa to your land, how do you like our Pep now?”

Within a short attention span the United West Ham found herself, nothing to show while Jude had three glaring goals.

Issuing one more shot, Jude let the hammer girl have it, “are you planning to do any folden tonight?”

Accepting the British satirical jabs Kia Ford grabbed the Peacock, “you know, I do have a goal tonight,” she told her colorful marketing tease before storming a pub, quietly standing around, waiting for a scene.

“I want your biggest jar, filled with sudsy brew,” Kia Ford shouted.

“Yes, Ma’am,” the bartender politely responded.

“Here is to the citizens, glad to hear you have your Pep back,” Kia Ford toasted, “It’s all your doing,” a slurred voice referenced.

Strolling back to the flat, Kia Ford and the Peacock talked about the evening, “you see I gave the citizens their Pep back,”

“That you did, along with four goals,” the Peacock revealed the full story, “and you? Brought home? What?”

“An enjoyable night out and a full krug,” Kia Ford defended opening the flat door, “now what are we going to do about our bubble machine? Add the champagne formula?”

“Well, we do have some time before our next guest,”

“And who will that be?”

“Craven,” the Peacock checked the schedule, “he has a midweek break, decided to hunker down here, instead of the cottages.”

“Leaving his own cottages,” Kia Ford pondered, “he may want to bring along three points to drop.”