Kia Ford: The Hammer Girl's English Premiere Production

While walking the property, Boyle Sports noticed Nuno the Spirited Saint meeting with citizens, signing documents, hearing the statement issued, ‘I will do my best, helping you win the championship’.

“Kia Ford needs goals to stay at this level,” Boyle Sports concluded, absorbing the whole picture.

Mirror staring, seeing the interpretation, Kia Ford reflected, “I need goals,” she contemplated, when a disturbance sounded. Opening the bathroom blinds the All American watched the Gunners Arsenal pass in review, marching forcefully, controlling the street.

“They are wearing innocent white,” Kia Ford monitored, “they think.”

“Like Champions,” the Peacock guarded the doorway.

“Champions?” Kia Ford turned around, “certainly if I am being relegated, I have no business challenging Arsenal for three points, obtaining twenty-five-hour safe zone relaxing privileges.”

“When Arsenal arrives, you can play defensive, show them the truth,” the Peacock suggested, “you have no goals.”

“Play dead, you mean,” the hammer girl retorted, taking an iron pill from its package.

Reaching the hallway, the digested vitamin prepared the united west ham for battle. “Just remember chest boasting gunner; our score says we are even, starting with zero goals,” the patriotic colonist character declared.

“Did it take you two hundred and fifty years to summarize those facts?” The invading army inquired.

“How many years did it take you to figure it out?” Kia Ford retaliated.

“Only a couple centuries,” the gunners proclaimed.

Calmly dealing with the situation, Kia Ford spent forty-five minutes using protective skills, not allowing the gunners a goal opportunity. “Getting a goal isn’t that easy,” Kia Ford commented.

“May I remind you, Kia Ford, we sit at the top of the table, the peak of the English Premiere mountain,” the gunners referenced.

“Champions,” the Peacock diplomatically addressed.

Retreating towards the kitchen, Kia Ford huddled and the Peacock listened, comforting the results, “if no one gets a goal then I get a point,”

“Yeah,” the Peacock interjected.

“Then we will be closer to the secure area,” Kia Ford surmised, “surviving the gunner Arsenal visit.”

“Sounds like a plan,” the Peacock agreed.

Running clock reached over eighty minutes, and Kia Ford continued coping, until she crumbled, realizing uniformed gunners, featured ‘the nice package when in a clutch, a goal is needed scripted direction sequence’, “I hope you like the flowers,” the gunners gleefully expressed.

“Is that your goal? Displaying your whole package in a clutch?” Kia Ford questioned.

“You are correct,” replied the gunners.

Minutes passed, encouraging the star-spangled with a banner to let everything out, emptying her home base, placing the big goal difference bet. During the final grace period, aggressive behavior paid off when cowboy action crossed over the line.

“Call um Wilson, Peacock,” Kia Ford requested

“Why?” Observing the whole scene, the Peacock wondered.

“You fouled,” the gunners complained, telling everyone, look at it again.

After further review, the goal disappeared, handing over three points mentioned inside the classified file.

“Did you get what you wanted?” Kia Ford angrily investigated.

“Actually, I did,” the gunners honestly expressed, “can we keep this hush hush?”

“Why? Is there something in that folder you do not want out?”

“No, it's just your relegation papers.”

Silence arrived and Kia Ford deep breathed, “Peacock,”

Strolling onto the patio, the Peacock acknowledged, “what?”

“Where are your cousins? The Peacocks,” Kia Ford insisted.

“You have a meeting with them in two weeks,” the Peacock clarified.

“Where are the Peacocks?”

“Um, this week?”

“Yes, this week,”

Up against the wall the Peacock honestly explained, “they have a prime-time engagement with Lily White.”