Kia Ford: The Hammer Girl's English Premiere Production

Evening arrived; darkness shrouded the English Premiere Estates where United West Ham mover shaker star Kia Ford resided declaring patriotic glory. Fearing relegation, she retired towards her sleeping quarters, figuring no points could be lost if she spent midweek nights inside the bedroom.

Still wondering how the wolves could stay positive, despite a bleak future, Kia Ford shut her eyes, hoping nocturnal dreamworld messages would be a pleasant diversion instead of nightmares challenging thrill seekers.

“Kia Ford, Kia Ford,” the Hammer girl could hear Boyle Sports voice, “are you home?”

“Yeah, I am here,” Kia Ford acknowledged.

“Got a visit from your cousin,”

“I have a cousin?” Kia Ford pondered silently.

“Nottingham,” Boyle Sports informed, “when you go to relegation, he would like to buy you out and landscape a gigantic new Nottingham Forest.”

“A new Nottingham Forest?” Kia Ford started panicking. “What happened? What is wrong with the Old Nottingham Forest?”

“Nothing,” Boyle Sports paused, “Since, your relegation reservation is almost confirmed, why do you care if the English Premiere Estates are turned into a mirror arbor community reflecting upon century old history?”

Desperately confused Kia Ford whispered, head twisting back and forth, “why how did I get into a relegation battle?”

“You need goals, Kia Ford. Goals will save you from relegation,” Boyle Sports preached.

Continuing her fantasy trip Kia Ford searched, far and wide, wanting concrete strategic certainty, “Tommy, can you hear me?” Screamed the star spangled hiding behind a banner, “I need a goal.”

Magically appearing a royal figure, I am Prince Murillo, and I built this small wall, stepping over the cavetti would seat you in a fortified place where you can show you have a goal.”

“Is this a goal? For me?” Kia Ford’s imagination requested clarification.

“Yes, and maybe if you are lucky three points will come soon.”

Deciding break time, Kia Ford rested until another motion picture presentation unspooled, already confidently pocketing a goal Kia Ford watched herself enter a travel agency, “I want to go where its warm?” She demanded, opening a pocketbook.

“You can go to Summerville,” the agent replied.

Then the skies turned black and Boyle Sports bellowed, “that is offsides and not a goal.”

“But I thought Summerville was a goal?”

“No goal!” Boyle Sports put his foot down, “in fact Saint Dominican wants to see you.”

“Saint Dominican?”

“Yes,” a player wearing a white uniform emerged, “and I have a goal.”

Being level brought Kia Ford internal thoughts back, reminding her facing a demotion dilemma still holds serious priorities. Suddenly, another character entered, asserting himself on the slumber vision stage.

“Shining Bright Noble Gibbs-White pledging his service, Madame,” the too good to be real hero introduced.

“Noble Gibbs-White, pleasure to meet you,” Kia Ford exclaimed, “but I thought your name was Morgan?”

“It is,” Noble Gibbs-White claimed, “I have a surprise for you.”

“You're going to rescue me from relegation?”

“No, better,” Noble Gibbs-White grinned, “I am going to take you hostage and keep you in relegation with my winning goal.”

“You tricked me! Tricky Trees!”

Sweating perversely, Kia Ford quickly sprung up in bed, “I am still in relegation,” she pleaded hearing a theatrical rehearsal performance.

“Peacock,” Kia Ford yelled, “what are you doing?”

Needing an escape route, the Peacock, who if offered would entertain climbing paramount mountains but right now devoted paid relaxing time to developing a character for the next “Peacocks Versus Tricky Trees” audition round.

“Are you leaving me?” Kia Ford inquired from the hallway.

“No,” the Peacock sternly responded, swigging carabao energy from a stolen FA Cup prop container.