Angel's Reality

Leaving only a magical second, good turf broke the Goonie fall, landing in a safe place, despite an awkward rebellious appearance, challenging the gift, the higher Woodbine authority granted across the street. Suddenly, a maiden with special weight appeared, wearing a shiny winning golden ring.

“Where did you get that?” Goonie presented a skeptical glare.

“I found a bunch of diamonds in the sand,” the maiden with special weight replied, “showed them to an appraiser and wha lah,”

“I thought you bet on Beth,” Goonie sarcastically remarked referencing a previous case.

“If I bet on Beth,” the angelic maiden with special weight retaliated, “I would be out of the money.”

“Why is that?” Goonie investigated, “she’s a Bernardini and we view that family as winners.”

“Beth Bernardini was never a winner,” the maiden with special weight commentated, spreading tattered wings, “I do not care what fast track she was claiming to be on.”

“Her last glory was a show called, 'The Archer or the Prey’,” Goonie referenced, “and the box office numbers skyrocketed, and she bought a nice place.”

“Your kitty pretty, Goonie, was out of the money,” the maiden with special weight yelled.

Continuing a good turf designation, the maiden with special weight returned to the golden beach where she was already a winner. “That sugar Princess Beth Bernardini was out of the money,” the featherily innocence started turning charcoal.

“I should just show my Miami style and,” the maiden with special weight paused, “wait a second, I will call the bullpen.”

Dialing up, a local aerialist show, the maiden with special weight defended her firm professional turf, flying around, helping the masses.

“What do you mean Wildcat Fire is out of the money?” The maiden with special weight issued a panic voice.

“The pass failed and in a second the theatrical move,” a heavenly talker explained, “went splat.”

“What?”

“Apparently, the naive maiden, started claiming, amazingly discovering the Bonita diamond, proclaiming her a winner,”

“Really,” the maiden with special weight responded.

Already known as a favorite, after saving the Azteca Warrior carcass, the maiden claiming living on the fast track, headed to the shore.

“Ending up vacationing at the Victor’s dream resort? Right,” the maiden with special weight concluded about the maiden claiming, “and found herself, out of the money.”

“Unless you show attention to detail, they say,” Jace the phone bank teller suggested.

“This place, Victor’s Dream Resort, Jace, is no joke,” the maiden with special weight focused on the golden ring, she bought.

Later, firm turf, grounding the maiden with special weight, wanting a winning photo, she hid amongst seductive gins and tins scattered throughout life less garbage.

“I like what I see in this place,” a familiar invisible voice declared.

“I have a point Liam,” the maiden with special weight stated claiming a valid reason, “remember, Al Ameeq, who ended up, out of the money?”

“Yeah, but I do find this winning moment being souper amusing, more entertaining than the kitchen’s routine comedian customer,” Liam told the maiden with special weight, standing her firm turf, “when I was a clash city rocker performer for only a second and we had a tiz complex situation, after one show.”

“Let me guess, your Motown honey was out of the money,”

“Yup, that is what that maiden was claiming.”

“Liam, she came to the show as a profit hunter,” the maiden with special weight classified, “and what the lady collected put her out of the money.”

“Wait a second she was my honeybunch,” Liam began claiming.

“And you heard the powerful giants audible calling, ‘you are a winner and belong on the fast track’,”

“Such a curious soul you are, and it shows,” Liam noted.

“Maybe that is why I will always be a maiden with special weight floating through the empire sky,” the distressed damsel honestly confessed, “out of the money.”

“Claiming defending one’s firm turf.” Liam surmised.

“Yes, Liam, all I want is a winning final drama, peaceful resting, enjoying Richard Ave,”

“And who is Richard?” Liam folded his arms.

“Some guy I met fluffing pillows, cleaning Cloud Nine rooms,” the maiden with special weight grinned, confirming everything revolves around a big ball of flames.