Kia Ford: The Hammer Girl's English Premiere Production

Locking the gates, Crystal Royal Glazier, CRG for short, left the Palace confines boarding his golden eagle luxurious transportation to fly through the city. An agenda scheduled meeting slated with the west ham who was united instigated CRG’s valet treatment, whisking the affluent aristocrat away, destination English Premiere Estates.

Safely landing, the money enriched monarch relished hearing championship rhetoric being spoken through radio kingdom and the credible words situated CRG on a special dream inspired throne. Strutting down the street, the flat in sight, CRG forgot his past, only a few years ago, when suddenly noticing, sitting patiently head between her knees, Kia Ford weeping.

“What is wrong?” CRG’s pleasant sunny day turned grey.

“I am going to be relegated,” the All-American star-spangled flaunting banner teared.

“We are not even close to that point,” CRG mentioned.

“Critics say I am a hammer girl,”

“And that is what happens to Hammer girls they are sent to a bad place,” CRG stiff lip tightened, “tell me truthfully, what is the reason for the demotion fear?”

“I cannot get any goals,” Kia Ford, woefully expressed, monitoring CRG, ascend the staircase.

“Where is your Peacock friend?” CRG inquired.

“Fixing the bloody bubble machine,” Kia Ford replied, “again.”

“Again?”

“Yeah, the GP part is just not working out.”

“Really,” CRG showed disbelief, “do you think getting rid of GP technology would help?”

Shrugging shoulders, Kia Ford started standing, “I Dunno, but there have been strangers during the last couple days standing outside commentating GP needs to go.”

Opening the door for CRG, Kia Ford escorted the guest, carrying the filthy dirty ‘welcome’ greeting rug. Emerging from behind the bubble machine, the Peacock digested the conversation and decided, donate two cents.

“The GP part is still under warranty and Amazon has free returns,”

“Yeah, maybe the marketplace has a competitive solution,” CRG suggested.

“They also have next day delivery,” the Peacock added.

“Must state, ‘this mat should get a clean slate,”

“Oh,” CRG remembered, “I have a mat that gets goals, spotless.”

“This mat is mine and defends my flat from grimy footies as a goalie.”

“And this goal from my mat is an actual goal.”

Not having the fighting spirit strength left Kia Ford peacefully back down, "So, Peacock, are you almost done?”

“I reached my half time allotment,” the Peacock announced, “you do pay me for a full ninety minutes.”

“And?”

“Still no goals,”

Quietly walking over engaging the Bowen shrine, Kia Ford folded her arms, “you know J Bowen is usually very dependable on getting goals,” she made sure CRG understood the truth.

“Not these days?”

“Nah,” Kia Ford clarified when the monument started to shake, rattle and roll, “look at that a goal.”

“Check out,” the Peacock shouted, “the bubbles.”

“Great it works,” Kia Ford agreed, “that point puts us temporary relegation free. Bowen fantastic job.”

Feeling confident, Kia Ford continued entertaining CRG, and the majestic figure impressed seemed abruptly distracted, due to a ringing watch, “Mitchell got a goal!”

“Whose Mitchell?” Kia Ford projected a concerned gesture.

“He is the one with the goal.”

“Dang,” Kia Ford exclaimed, frustrated, unleashing steam heat emotion, “does that mean I need another goal?”

“Yup,” the Peacock confirmed.

“Wonderful to see you both today, but with Mitchell getting a goal,” CRG proclaimed, “I got to leave,”

“Where is he going?” Kia Ford pleaded, watching CRG disappear, noticing the visitor pocket the three points, “I guess it's back to relegation.”

“What do you think we should do now?” Investigated the Peacock.

“Get some sweets,” Kia Ford slumped over a chair, requesting a reprieve.

“Yeah, I could go for some Toffees, myself,” the Peacock started packing.

“Is the mountain climbing equipment necessary?”

Swiftly thinking, the Peacock responded rapidly, “want higher ground, distance ourselves from the bottom rungs.”

“And the Toffees can do that?”

“History says,” the Peacock retorted loading the rental car, confidently prepared, after designing Monday night’s three-point escape strategy.