
‘Again?’ he said. ‘What do mean by that, Guano, old boy?’
‘Well, Albert,’ I said, looking at him knowingly. ‘I predict that we’ll have the World Cup in 1966 and that we’ll win it.’
‘By strewth!’ said Albert, who true to his nickname, fell to his knees in amazement. ‘We’ll win the world cup?’
‘We will indeed,’ I told him. ‘But not before we've fought another World War. I’ve been told as much by those in the know.’
And you know the rest.
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