Kia Ford Attending The English Premiere Festivities

Realizing the tricky trees were not going to loosen their grip, Kia Ford and the Peacock decided to achieve a goal, seek out the trucker boys for twiggy removal advice. When the pair reached Portman Road, they noticed the hard-working individuals looking blue and decided approaching the working-class representatives.

“What is wrong?” Kia Ford inquired.

“Our time here is almost over,” the trucker boys told them. “Returning to relegated security blanket reality, fantasy elite spotlight dimming.”

“Honestly,” Kia Ford’s promotional fowl interjected, “you will be climbing your mountain, winning instead of,”

“Walking the red carpet,” the trucker boys grimaced, “I have enough haulers to load those status symbol rolls.”

“What red roles?” Kia Ford questioned.

“You are right,” the trucker boys agreed, immediately inspired, standing strong from their sidewalk loitering stance, “we are much better than our record this year.”

“That is the goal getting attitude!” The Peacock cheered, accepting Kia Ford’s glare in stride.

“What can we do for you?” The invigorated trucker boys threw a sales pitch out, “I am running a special, today only, free transportation to the relegation side.”

“That is not going to happen,” the hammer girl assured.

“What we do need is,” the Peacock explained, “tricky trees cleared from our stoop.”

“But we are scheduled to meet here today, kick things around,” the trucker boys pointed out, “then after we have our event, we trucker boys will pack and leave for relegation.”

“Couldn’t you do this one small favor before departing?” Kia Ford pleaded, pulling a cell phone from her pocketbook.

“Who are you calling?” The trucker boys curiously wondered.

“My good friend, JWP,” Kia Ford answered, “JWP, I know you have a goal today, but can you help us clear out tricky trees occupying my property.”

Listening intently, everybody realized that JWP had a goal, which meant the irons were in the fire heating opportunities.

“It looks like he can help,” Kia Ford smiled.

“Miss, Ms., Kia,” the trucker boys paused, “Ford, we are quite busy at the moment.”

“Your being relegated!” Kia Ford raised her voice.

“That is what is keeping us busy,” the trucker boys eyes widen, responding to the request, “I am sorry, but we cannot service you at the moment.”

Infuriated Kia Ford expressed, “you do not have time to remove the tricky trees from my stoop.”

“No,” the trucker boys, released a one-word statement before getting more off their chest, “what is wrong with that broad head, we have a goal, and you know what we are equal, those two expect what? We to drop everything and clear rubbish so they can get into their English premiere flat!”

Hearing the outburst Kia Ford felt a magical Julie Bowen surge, “I have another goal.”

Now that Kia Ford and her Peacock had two goals the pair moved forward, “you know it is an honor to be a part of the elite table,” the star spangled carrying a tuneful poetic banner commentated watching the trucker boys head to more confident competitions where they may have positive results.

“I guess just being a part of this production is some kudos and that would be a third goal for us,” the Peacock concluded.

When they reached home there was no longer any arbor guards, blocking passage, “JWP must have stopped by,” Kia Ford observed.

“Nice goal, I am impressed,” the Peacock added.

Unlocking the door, the two proceeded inside, flipping the light switch, illuminating the bubble machine and Bowen Shrine.

“I think two things we need to do next year, have a refrigerator filled with energy drinks and a FA cup,” Kia Ford suggested.

“What about a better seat at the table?” The Peacock inquired.

“Why? You want quality mountain gear?”

“I can google the transfer portal and see if I could sign a deal,” the Peacock closed the door and chapter finishing another season where West Ham United survived.