Here we go, the much anticipated draw for the quarter final. As I took my much feared stroll to the bottom of the garden for my daily report to the chickens, I instantly felt there was some tension in the air. The Machiavellian leader Chickzilla gave me a sideways glance, clucked (or was it a tut?), turned her back and just did that scratching thing. I tried to explain that the reason for the thirty day quarantine was for their own good and entire flocks across Europe had been culled, but no, nothing. Even the nameless ones who are a lot more forgiving gave me the cold shoulder, well I say shoulder it’s more of a wing but you get my drift. It was clear, similar to last year they had created this competition and now we were getting down to the nitty gritty, they wanted nothing more to do with it. So I now had to come up with an inventive way of doing the quarter final draw. I sat and pondered, I poured myself a single malt and reached for the last box of Christmas chocolates. Bloody After Eights they don’t go with a fine 12 year old Isley……Bingo! I pushed eight After Eights greedily into the gaping hole in the front of my face. I scribbled the numbers 1-8 on pieces of paper and put them carefully back into the envelopes that once contained those minty treats. My family maybe avoiding me after I forced them to play this crazy version of chocolate Russian Roulette, but I care not, I have the draw for the next round.