One-all draw. England's overpaid, prissy superstars grind out an unattractive point against enthusiastic, Norwayesque Americans. They then despatch Slovenia and Algeria with prejudice like the flat-track bullies they are. After a squeak on penalties past Serbia/Ghana/Australia in the second round, the entire nation will start to hyperventilate. Frank Lampard will give an interview saying 'this is our time, we're the golden generation, destiny lies at the wings of our feet.'
Facing France in the quarters, Wayne Rooney will get sent off after a throat-high, ninja-style tackle on Andre-Pierre Gignac, Rio Ferdinand will be continually nutmegged and Peter Crouch will look like the third best player in the Rymans League. The sound of deflating expectations will be audible as far as the Canaries. Fabio will look faintly perplexed, like a man who's discovered his Chablis '02 doesn't perfectly complement his Terrine de Poulet. David Beckham will come on as substitute and bend a free kick perfectly into Thierry Henry's nadgers. After elimination, our distraught hooligans will take a heavy defeat at the hands of the local riot police.