Porsche Man: The English Premiere West Ham

Sitting peacefully, flying solo an airline ticket with a priority German knockout assignment attached, waited patiently to be picked up. Making final touches West Ham United model talent Porsche Man ignored the headache plaguing her successful appearance preparation.

Another knockout presentation topped the agenda and she felt confident being able to compete with others during the well promoted eleven-company photo shoot.

Capturing the travel documents, putting them into her purse Porsche Man proceeded towards the airport fending off the painful annoying throbbing.

“What am I going to do with this headache?” She questioned herself when a flight attendant wearing a black and red uniform approached.

“Would you like some Bayer?” She smiled, “here are four.”

“Thank you,” Porsche Man responded accepting both the plastic water container and the kind gesture.

Like magic she felt much better and pleasantly journeyed to the hotel. After a nice sleep Porsche Man found her way and confronted the unbelievable scene displaying all the knockout opportunities knocking.

Discarding any intimidation, she flexed her strutting style but only one shot evolved despite all the potential credible visibility. “One,” she whispered a frustrating comment, “that is impossible!” Halfway through the ten plus one picture perfect chances no one seemed to have any goals. “Who came up with this idea?” The American theatrical tease heard the chorus’ herald their opinion.

Once again throughout the second half Porsche Man struggled to find a goal and with great desperation performed the Julie Bowen gimmick which always worked. But nothing scored, the feat fell flat, failing not getting a goal.

Staying in control not panicking, the hammer girl continued pounding away despite not being able to depart the activity with an advantage. Looking around she noticed no one was getting goals and accepted surviving as a positive outcome. But when the exposition started breaking down one goal was announced over the loudspeaker while another followed.

“Two goals this late,” Porsche Man started sweating, “I may not make it to the next round.”

Quitting time whistle sounded, ending all hysteria being kicked around and Porsche Man dropped her head, defeated, despite one more leg, “I am sure I will be able to level it back home”

Arriving safely at Heathrow, Porsche Man needed direction, going through baggage claim, the electronic doors opened revealing ground transportation and she was informed the competition who notched two goals were anointed champions.

“I thought something was up,” she concluded getting into the taxi.

“Home,” she told the driver.

As the bright illumination shined onto the porch where Porsche Man’s flat resided, the spotlight revealed a man’s silhouette, hoping the star-spangled banner’s worthwhile adventurous experience would generate business.

“Who could that be?” Porsche Man asked.

“It seems to be a gentlemen,” the driver answered, “he has a cell phone so I would say he is a gentlemen caller.”

Porsche Man took the observation in stride and handed him a couple successful dollars before stepping out, “Hush will you.”

Walking across the street Porsche Man exclaimed, “Who may I ask are you?”

“Oh, Porsche Man, it’s Craven owner of Craven Cottages,” the stranger identified, “and I have two goals, one to pitch my cottages and second hint to you, it’s almost over.”

“Why would I be interested in a Craven Cottage?”

“You are a knock out, Porsche Man, and you are returning ready to proceed into the next round,”

Peering down in shame Porsche Man confessed, “I did not get any goals in Germany, and they found two in the late stages,”

“But there is another leg? Right,” Craven positively clarified.

“Yes, but,” Porsche Man dialogue halted.

Grinning Craven replied, “you know longer have the Julie Bowen power to get goals? And that is why Craven Cottage is here for you,”

“How do you know that?’

“Well, Porsche Man, I come here prepared with two goals and know your goal reality, none,” Craven reported, “now one of my cottages could be a nice place to relax and conjure up the Julie Bowen goal scoring fantasy.”

Brushing by the visitor, “you made your point Mr. Craven, good day.”

Once home Porsche Man stared the bubble machine down, sending a message, “if we score twice and are defensive then anything can happen, I am saying that like Porsche Man, not Julie Bowen.”