By Oliver Sparrow and Ulysse Pasquier, writing from London and Montreal

Join Oli & Ulysse as they foretell of a Wellington versus Napoleon-esque encounter between the two old foes of England & France at Wembley tomorrow evening (8pm GMT)

“Friends, football fans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Blanc.

I address you at a time of great peril for our nation, for our Gallic foes from across the Channel have signalled an attack on our fine fortress of Wembley, and their arrival is imminent. This is a call to arms, a plea to the great and strong of these lands to make your way to northwest London and help repel these foul assailants.

For those who fear not our French foes after their ill-fated and audacious attempt to plunder the galleon of Rimet on the shores of the South African Cape, take heed. At their helm now is a man whose subjects dare not defy. Rather, they admire and respect him. He is a leader of men, one who was once befit to grace Laird Ferguson’s red army of Manchester.

Amongst his ranks are some of the finest soldiers in all Europe. They say Valbuena’s
presence is equal to forty thousand men in the balance.  He is the heart of their army, a man to whom all others aspire. His rapier-like speed and fleet of foot bring destruction wherever he dances. In a young man named LLoris they have one of the finest defenders of the line known to man. With hands like the paws of a bear he has thwarted the attacks of many an enemy. These are not Domenech’s disparate few, they are Blanc’s brutish many.

But the Gauls shall not breach our castle walls, for we are made of sterner stuff. We are made from solid oak and British brawn. We have our own heroes. Sir Hart of the Eastlands is the size of two men, and has the power of three. He could part the tide of the Thames with his oar-like arms. Fie, he could part the oceans!

In Theo Walcott of Highbury we have our very own scything rapier. He will slice through the French lines like a knife through fondant, but he will strike them at the heart with the power of an English broadsword. The Gauls will retreat at the very sight of him, like the skulking weasels that they are.

The French will cower in the shadow of the mighty Carroll of Tyneside. He is a man who shoulders such a heavy burden of anger that he has no time to tend to his own needs. He has to be kept under the strict eye of Nolan of Tyneside, fed and restrained by a tight leash like a rabid bulldog, lest he should escape and wreak havoc upon the streets of Gateshead.

And by God, I have yet to mention the magnificent Sir Ferdinand of Old Trafford! Such majesty and grace have rarely been seen on the battlefields of men. Wingers to the right of him, wing-backs to the right of him, strikers to the front of him – never fear, for he shall merk them all!

And then there is the trusty General Barry of Eastlands. He has the heart of a Lion and the power of an Ox. He will be our lynchpin in the centre of the battlefield, commanding all those around him. His piercing glare and menacing bite will have the French running for the cliffs of Dover. He will vanquish the enemy in a matter of minutes, fear not.

I don’t know what effect these men will have on the enemy, but by God, they terrify me. 

So my people, come join the battle of Wembley. Stand side-by-side with your noble brothers and roar us on to victory. The French will be deafened, blinded, battered and bruised, and flee back to their garlic-infested hovels with their tails between their legs.”

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“Soldiers, I come to you as zis is a grave day in ze history of our great nation.

We stand on ze précipice of a defining battle against our greatest rival. England,
led by zeir foreign general, are foolishly attempting to disrupt our rise into ze major
football power we once were. Mes amis, we have come too far to let zem stop us in our
ascension.

I am asking you, my soldiers, as we stand here, training on ze very grounds of London’s Arsenal, to remember how far we have come.

Just zis summer, following the South African debacle, our country’s football laid in ruins. Ze English do not fear us and are blinded by ze failures and shame ze Traitor, Raymond Domenech, brought upon us. We shall make zem remember why zey should fear us!

Our restructured ranks, now composed of spirited and brave men, have already resurrected France’s campaign for European glory with victories in ze East.

Ze Three Lions are mighty and ze task our young soldiers face is not an easy one,
but remember zat ze word impossible is not French. Ze English have indeed suffered injuries to key actors, Ashley Cole and John Terry, in ze heart of zeir defense, which will help France’s cause.

Reinforcements have also come to support ze Blue Army as Eric Abidal has travelled
from Spain to fight once again among us for ze first time since General Blanc has
taken control of ze French forces. Do not despair from ze absence of Abou Diaby as
Capitaine Alou Diarra, alzough sanctioned for 6 months domestically for his ill-discipline, has been chosen once again to carry our nation’s flag.

Expect to see our bravest soldiers, Karim Benzema, Loïc Remy and Mathieu Valbuena
strike where ze English are at zeir weakest while our young M’Vila breaks zeir futile
hope of counterattacks. Our midfield battalions may be young, zey have shown zey were capable of brilliance and ze Gunner Samir Nasri will lead our offensive maneuvers.

We may be untested, my soldiers, but we are on ze road to greatness. Ze English did not have ze courage to make the bold renovations zat we have undergone zese past months. Zey will pay off and we shall break zeir walls and bring glory to our people!”

So there you have it folks! Who do you see coming out on top in this clash of empires?