Kia Ford: The Hammer Girl's English Premiere Production

Waking up, Kia Ford dispensed any relegation threats, collecting her thoughts, thinking through the sensitive situation, conjuring excuses. “Sometimes you need a little drama,” the hammer girl, worked internal defense mechanism skills, “honestly, unknown result fears could provide, exciting product and energy.”

“Like Carabao finest pick me up,” the Peacock, refrigerator inspecting, interjected.

“I know, Peacock, I let that one ‘go to the wolves’,” Kia Ford confessed, “but where are the wolves today?”

“Below you,” the Peacock answered.

“Exactly,” Kia Ford confirmed, “I am not, rock bottom.”

“Look, success will come if you have goals,” the Peacock consoled.

“And the bubble machine,”

“Only if you get a goal,” the Peacock sternly glared, “now this FA souvenir cup thing.”

“Peacock, it's not a thing, it's a goal, I got goals, bubble machine went off and the day was filled with healthy drama, then I moved onto the next round.”

“You needed extra time, Kia Ford,” the Peacock strategically planted vital information.

“More time, riding the rollercoaster should be interpreted as fun,” defended Kia Ford.

Taking a deep breath the Peacock continued recounting, “don’t we have something to do today?”

“Yes,” Kia Ford checked her datebook, “visiting Lily White.”

Things have not been the same, since Lily White demolished her residency, relocating and occupying a beautiful modern cathedral facility. Always impressed with the surroundings and international interest the American united west ham accompanied her promotional associate, prepared to perform, a well fair check opportunity presenting a positive attitude.

“Hello, Lily White,” Kia Ford greeted, “I am here with the Peacock, ready for our engagement.”

“Certainly, Kia Ford, come on in,” smirked the innocent image, escorting the guest passed all the memories decorating the walls, “so Kia Ford, are you planning to stay at the English Premiere Estates, during relegation?”

Startled, Kia Ford quickly retaliated, “my goal, right now is to spend some time in Summer Ville,” the star-spangled banners’ gritted teeth explained.

“Summer Ville, really,” Lily White paused, “is that a sound investment goal?”

“For today,” Kia Ford hesitated, “yes.”

Enjoying how the meeting’s first half played out Kia Ford returned, “it has come to my attention you are now entertaining, designing dramatic fashion conclusions.”

“And who told you that?” Kia Ford investigated.

“Your confidant,” Lily White smiled.

“Peacock!”

“It’s going to come out in the papers tomorrow,” the Peacock figured, carefully displaying a feather presentation.

“I always wondered how you got those audition opportunities,” Kia Ford snarled.

“Anyway,” Lily White brought the match back into focus, “for me I like romance when getting three points.”

“Not taking holiday in Summer Ville?”

“No, Kia Ford, not escaping my obligations,” Lily White admitted, “just staying at home letting Romero get the goals.”

“Romero?”

“He cooks and cleans, you know,”

“And gets you a goal,”

“Making us, level, Kia Ford.”

Realizing departure time arrived, Kia Ford signaled the Peacock interrupting a very important conversation.

“Who are you call um?” Kia Ford asked.

“Will’s son,”

“What for?”

“You mean you can get that goal deposited,” the Peacock clarified, “immediately? Great.”

Flipping the communication device closed, the Peacock addressed, “Will’s son got us a goal, and we now have three points.”

“It’s about time,” Kia Ford monitored her watch going out the door.

“You want things to be dramatic,” the Peacock proclaimed.

“That is true,” Kia Ford admitted, “what about next week? Anything theatrical stimulating?”

“Rokerite, the black cat pays a visit to the English Premiere Estates unleashing haunting relegation realities.”

“Where did you find that out?” Kia Ford curiously pursued.

“Skimming the television listings,” the Peacock answered, teasing the next chapter.