Kia Ford Attending The English Premiere Festivities

Awaiting a paramount role, the Peacock’s Mountain climbing attire, promoted, the wildlife side, wanting dangerous physical challenges. “Peacock!” Kia Ford commanded walking down the London Street, “we are clear from relegation. What are you doing wearing that outfit?”

“This ensemble shows off my marketable athletic physique,” the colorful fowl replied.

“Okay,” Kia Ford, adjusted her innocent white uniform, realizing the two-piece outfit, should be respected in a place called Goodison Park

Arriving at the venue, the two spotted a blue-eyed young lady, packing up, ready to move, challenged, unfolding next chapter in life’s pages.

“Are you? Toffee?” The Peacock quickly asserted.

“Why, yes I am,” the entry level go getter stopped what she was doing, “may I ask? Who are you?”

“I am Kia Ford, the west ham united and this is my sidekick, Peacock,”

“Pleasure to meet you, I am trying to get on with things, no longer concerned about relegation demotion threats, focused more on the future,”

“New digs, huh,” the Peacock seemed intrigued.

“Yup,” Toffee confirmed.

“Well,” the Peacock kept the conversation going, “truthfully we are interested in collecting an assortment eye candy sample.”

“Eye candy?” Toffee tried clarifying, “I haven’t seen anyone, named eye candy.”

“That is very sweet of you,” Kia Ford interjected, “our eye candy, can bring in the nice paydays, flaunting advertised products throughout the mall.”

“Oh, yes,” Toffee reflected a moment, “I remember when I thought I would be forever twenty-one.”

“Rich and famous?” Peacock wanted clarification.

“No,” the twenty-six-year-old Toffee corrected, “naive and bankrupt.”

“Putting it bluntly, you need a good front,” Kia Ford honestly advised.

“And a good,” Peacock paused, “back up in the rear.”

Toffee stared them down, “to make sure the facade doesn’t fall,” Peacock captured the misunderstood comment.

“I apologize; do you want entrance into Goodison Park?” Toffee smiled, “since you are not Goodie Sons, refrain from touching,”

Kia Ford pondered, about the Goodie Daughters factor, until she saw the hallway wall pictorials presenting Daddy’s little girls.

“These must be an example of the eye candies,” Kia Ford noted.

“Everton,” the Peacock approached the hostess.

“Well, if it isn’t the united west ham and her streaming service,”

“Peacock to you,” Kia Ford grinned, as the feathers opened, exhibiting a rainbow declaring hope and dreams, filled with tempting teases.

“As you can see, Kia Ford, we both have similar issues, and our table placement is only separated by difference in goals.”

Over an hour passed, nothing newsworthy developed, until a faint voice flowed. “Tommy,” Kia Ford’s Everton engagement, seemed interrupted, “Tommy,” she paused, “Tommy, can you hear me.”

“Yes, I can,” the off-stage sound effect announced.

“I want to say, you have a goal.”

“No shucks,” Kia Ford acted astounded, “a goal, here inside Goodison Park, home of Toffee, and Everton.”

“Not for long,” Everton interjected.

Kia Ford entertained taking home a three-point snack pack fruity Tootie goodie opportunity, but Toffee entered the scene bursting all fantasies.

“Check out my new guy,” Toffee announced, “an Irishman named Jake, and he works on a Celtic farm back in the states. Isn’t that where you are from Kia Ford?”

Conceding the victory celebration, realizing she only was getting one point today Kia Ford accepted the result they both had a goal, then quickly departed towards the exit.

Returning, entering a quiet dark apartment flat, the Peacock and Kia Ford discussed strategy. “We are not getting sent below,” Kia Ford insisted as the Peacock took a seat on the couch.

“My suggestion, follow the scheduled agenda and see the wolves, get things straight, and”

“Prepare for tomorrow,” Kia Ford added, “where are you going?”

“I want to clean up my theatrical mountain climbing props,” the Peacock responded, “I do not know when I am going to use the equipment next.”