Kia Ford: The Hammer Girl's English Premiere Production

Kia Ford’s eyes opened wide, confronting serious relegation threats, staring down the invisible haunting thoughts, reminding the demotion commentary in a few hours from this moment she would lower her top tier status, interacting with the yellow and black army.

“That black and yellow army always has something brewing,” Kia Ford mumbled out loud, strategizing winning efforts could turn around a public relations nightmare.

“I hear General Burton Albion brews up nice concoctions,” the Peacock responded peeking inside, “perfect for the FA Cup souvenir glassware.”

“And Admiral Pirelli,” Kia Ford’s groggy voice dispensed, conjuring her star-spangled banner enthusiastic patriotism,

“So, the plan is, take them by land and sea?” Questioned the Peacock.

“They are a level below us,” Kia Ford referenced.

“Should we take the underground?”

Stepping out, enjoying a beautiful day, both welcomed, and not regretting any reason for missing this appointment. Venturing closer, they noticed the military outpost’s quiet surroundings, “are you sure something is brewing?” Kia Ford inquired.

“They are brewers,” the Peacock interjected, summoning a new character.

“General Burton Albion,” Kia Ford outstretched arm greeted, “usually something is brewing.”

“We are situated in the lower tiers these days and struggling to stay there,”

Hearing the excuse concerned the Peacock, “careful Kia Ford, he may see that red, white and blue attitude and want a replacement.”

“Only problem is, I have a goal and I am not going to be relegated,” Kia Ford defended.

“You Americans are always seeking out new waves,” Admiral Pirelli interrupted.

“And is this FA Cup headache a good wave?” Investigated the Peacock.

“Maybe that is the issue with your yellow, black army, too many distractions,” Kia Ford suggested, lowering her voice to a whisper, “yes I have a relegation situation, but honestly, I have a goal.”

“You have a goal?” Exclaimed the General and Admiral.

“Go to Summer Ville when all is resolved.”

“Better late than never,” the two leaders stated.

“What about you?”

“Well, if you take the FA cup obligations, then maybe we will get better seating at our tier table,” the diplomatic benefits discussed ended, letting Kia Ford move on to the next round.

Using a cell phone, the Peacock proceeded reserving a sweet sixteen sitting and a fifth-round engagement with Brent Ford.

“Brent Ford,” Kia Ford spoke, “that should get some buzz.”

One week later, severe clouds invaded, and Kia Ford, still disappointed that nothing brewed, featuring uniformed service men. Continuing, surveying the English Premiere Estates courtyard Kia Ford requested advice, “Peacock, have you ever wondered if our trees have cherries?”

“No,” the Peacock quickly sent an opinion.

“Call Mr. Bourne’s big mouth and request him to come over and inspect our shrubbery for cherries,”

“Are you looking to get an easy three points from him?” Pointed out the Peacock, “it's not that easy anymore.”

Dark inclement heavens listened, creating a mysterious knocking sound, signaling workday started, “Mr. Bourne what a large smile,” the Peacock enthusiastically opened the entry.

“Yes, Peacock, I heard to see if Kia Ford has any cherries needing to be picked,”

“But the weather outside is awful,” acknowledged the Peacock.

“Brought my trusty sidekick Boscombe,” Mr. Bourne’s big mouth stated, “he loves bush showering.”

“At your service,” Boscombe cordially bowed before running into the outdoor mist.

Removing his fashionable trench coat Mr. Bourne’s Big Mouth approached Kia Ford, “I heard you are looking at relegation plans and wanted to let you know ‘Cherry Orchids’ cemetery is not a bad location.”

“I am not dead yet,” Kia Ford snapped, seeing Boscombe hustle back, “did you find any cherry trees.”

“No,” Boscombe shouted.

“I guess, there goes my wine tasting goal,” Kia Ford announced, frustrated.

“Do not feel bad Kia Ford, on a night like this we do not have any goals either,” Mr. Bourne’s Big Mouth comforted.

Following their departure, Kia Ford recalled the boys in the band guest passes hiding inside her pocketbook, “you know I will have one more blow off weekend before,”

“Relegation moving day,” guessed the Peacock.

“No, vacationing in Summer Ville!” Kia Ford corrected.