Kia Ford Attending The English Premiere Festivities

After stealing three golden points, displaying two goals, and showing the Red Devils were nothing the Peacock alongside Kia Ford strolled down the lane, heading home as winners, until they reached their British flat front stoop.

Peacefully arriving, the two noticed a gripping development; the tricky trees had a community stranglehold, blocking the entrance. Intimidated at first, the pair finally and courageously approached the gothic site yearning for honorable hardware.

“What is it Arbor Day?” Kia Ford satirically declared, checking datebook commitments allowing the Peacock an information insertion opportunity by reading internet references, “Arbor Day was last month, those are tricky trees.”

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

Standing guard, she affirmatively shook her head.

“We should check how old those tricky trees are, count their rings and grey leaves,” the Peacock suggested creeping closer, keeping Kia Ford near, while ordering next minute delivered garden pruners.

Using a keen eye, Kia Ford spotted a white birch and broke off the twig before calculating the interior round markings, creating a true time frame sketch, estimating the woodsy invader, spent planted on earth.

“I am the Son of Gilbert,” the white birch explained, “and feel morally obligated to report early on in life, I had a goal.”

“You did,” responded Kia Ford.

“Yes, went into the forest, joined the tricky trees, acted as shade protecting, assisting them out of relegation,” Son of Gilbert paused, “now I am climbing the highest mountain.”

“That is very interesting,” Kia Ford noted, seeing the Peacock work the second half of the gardening exhibit.

“Sharp device warning,” the well-embedded wildlife menace exclaimed, bellowing, “I am Son of Milenko! How dare you try ending my existence performing a single snip,”

Stunned hearing the plea, the Peacock quickly came to a halt, “I really do not want to hurt anything, especially a relic from the famous Nottingham Forest.”

“That is not the true reason, you may want to hold back, harming my forceful tactic residency here,” the sapling shrub mentioned, “you see I have a goal. That mere result means upward table mobility.”

“You have a goal,” the Peacock repeated.

“Yes, I am the son of Milenko.”

Taking a step back, the Peacock united with west ham Kia Ford and discussed the situation. “It seems we have privileged children, who have nothing better to do then block our entry.”

“That seems like an accurate observation,” the Peacock confirmed.

“But who are we to judge?” Kia Ford continued, “they both came here two goals in their pocket and dreaming about European trophies.”

“Son of a,” the Peacock replied.

Suddenly, a festive sound interrupted, the tranquil setting, encouraging Kia Ford, ‘peer towards the window’, “it is coming from inside,” the Peacock pointed out.

“It’s the Bowen Shrine,” Kia Ford identified, “it’s making some noise. We just got a goal and won’t be clean sheeted.”

“You mean we might leave with a point,” the Peacock positively noted.

“Not on your life,” the Tricky Trees exploded, “the three points are all for me. Mine.”

“Okay, jeez,” Kia Ford backed off.

“Where are you going?” The Tricky Trees inquired.

“Yeah,” the Peacock whispered, “where are we going with this?”

“We,” Kia Ford asserted, “are going to see the trucker boys and when we return, we will haul away this mess dumping it in a land fill fit for relegation.”

“Do not hold your breath, I am not going back down, anytime soon,” the Tricky Trees announced.

“What are we going to do?” A concerned Peacock inquired.

“My plan, go visit the Trucker Boys and when we come back, those tricky trees will be already on their mountain climbing adventure.

“Lucky them,”

“Peacock.” Kia Ford sternly glared.