Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or the World Cup!
They think it's all over ... it is now!
The tension mounts in 221B! Two men sitting side by side on the sofa lean forward, the TV screen showing twenty two men running around chasing a football.
'If Italy can just win their next two matches, and England can beat Costa Rica, then maybe, just maybe, we can progress to the knock-out stage.' John looked across at the man next to him and grinned sheepishly, 'Yeah, alright, I know! But miracles can, and do happen ... sometimes.'
Greg took a swig of beer and returning the grin, he replied cheekily 'Yeah mate, keep dreaming. I hope the weather's nice on whatever planet you're on.'
'Piss off!' answered John as he chugged his beer. Placing the empty can on to the coffee table, he stood up, and turning towards the kitchen, he asked 'It's nearly half time, do you want another beer mate?'
'Yeah, great, thanks mate.' answered Greg as he looked up at John.
Suddenly, as John walked back through the doorway from the kitchen, a huge cheer erupted from the television. Rushing forward, he asked, 'Was that Italy?'
'No mate. Costa Rica, Ruiz scored.' replied Greg dejectedly.
Putting the two cans onto the table, John said as he sat back down on the sofa 'Oh well, there's always Wimbledon, that starts next week, lets break out the tennis balls!'