Kia Ford Attending The English Premiere Festivities

Being a new tenant residing in a Premiere English flat Kia Ford seemed concerned after watching the Red Devil get shredded and sacked.

“Where did he go?” The intrepid American asked her Peacock companion.

“I do not know,” the colorful marketing tease responded.

“Let’s check things out,” Kia Ford suggested grabbing a number thirteen table seating card, “if we go in the woods, we want good luck.”

“Opposed to seven,” the Peacock debated.

“Keep it up, my fowl friend I should be sitting in the sixth table position,”

Hearing the fantasy proposition based on reservation power, they both grabbed flashlights, ready to combat, an opponent roaming the rural forests.

Arriving they saw modern signs advertising ‘The Tricky Tree Experience’ and both agreed exploration should be an immediate priority, hoping the path may lead them to goals anointing them top ten status.

Wind whistling creating a haunting atmosphere, the entertaining setting where the pair ventured still seem to have the three-point treasure payoff. Carefully travelling down the path rustling sounds came from the bushes and the disturbance did not go unnoticed.

“Could that be the Red Devil no longer the Red Devil?”

“I do not think so,” the Peacock answered carefully approaching the occupied plants.

Suddenly, a squirrel-like creature jumped out, “I am Knotting Ham, and I tie knots for a living.”

“You tie knots?”

“Yes, I do,” the nutty character confirmed.

“Well, I am Kia Ford, and I am a star-spangled mover and shaker,”

“And I am the Peacock, her animated banner,” the Peacock flashed his feathers, “we are hams too, United States West Hams, that is.”

“Maybe we are related,” Knotting Ham hinted.

“I doubt that.” Kia Ford stood her ground.

“What are you doing sneaking around the tricky trees?”

“Searching for goals,” Kia Ford clarified.

“I got one already today, check out that knot, securely fastened on the piece of wood,”

“That is very nice,” Kia Ford remarked.

“Should get a profitable sales pitch.”

As the host peacefully conversed diplomatically, he continued tying knots using rope purchased at the London Boat Teek.

“You know I was once relegated,” Knotting Ham confessed, “quite warm down there but made some successful winning knots and got back into the top tier.”

“Good for you,” the Peacock pointed out, “but if she gets relegated, I am sorry to say Kia Ford would have a paramount mountain to climb, these days,”

“I suggest tying the knot, Kia Ford,”

Kia Ford politely acknowledged the advice, staring Knotting Ham down, “I was in the wedding business, photographs, bride and groom attire strategically placed throughout top fashion magazines across the pond.”

“That’s nice to know,” Knotting Ham commented handing them gift knots, “one for you and another one, for your Peacock.”

“Well thank you,” Kia Ford graciously accepted.

“Yes, thank you,” the Peacock agreed.

Since the hour was getting late, Kia Ford and the Peacock returned home. Off in the distance they could hear Knotting Ham count, “one, two, three, that makes three goals for me today, maybe I will end up in the champions league, climbing that paramount mountain.”

Then Kia Ford’s stomach rumbled, “I have no goals.”

Arriving back at the darken flat Kia Ford flipped the switch as the Peacock followed behind, peering around she saw both the Bowen Shrine and bubble machine dormant, not making a sound.

“It is true I do not have any goals,”

“Well, maybe you need some eye candy,” the Peacock suggested, fluent in how to tie a knot.

“I do have a meeting next week with Mr. Toffee,” Kia Ford remarked.

“He always has been a good match,” the Peacock bit his tongue.