Match 9: Wolverhampton Wanderers

*The lads gather in the dressing room to discuss tactics for Wolves*

MON: OK lads, it's Wolves away. This is a massive club, steeped in history.

*The Dressing Room erupts with laughter*

MON: Joking aside, don't underestimate them, even if they are rubbish.

*a shaking Delph raises his hand*

MON: Fabian?

Delph: Boss ... are they wolfmen? Stilyan said they're wolfmen and that if they bite me...

MON: No Fabian, they may bite you, they don't know any better but they're not wolfmen, there's no such thing.

Delph: What about Martin Keown and that man that was on Big Brother?

MON: they're not wolfmen .... Well Keown ... No, there's no such thing. Stilyan will you stop frightening young Delph.

Petrov: OK, sorry boss.

MON: Hang on a minute, are you dressed as a vampire!?

*Petrov unclips his cape and removes his plastic fangs and black wig*

Petrov: No boss, it's traditional bulgarian dress.

MON: Oh OK then, anyway... what was I saying?

Collins: You were going to select the team boss.

MON: Ah yes...

*MON selects the team based on form and position leaving only the right back position*

MON: and the right back is .....

*MON produces a silk bag and roots around in it pulling out a screwed up piece of paper and unravelling it*

MON: John Carew.

*MON points at Carew, Carew removes his headphones*

Carew: I won, I won! What's my prize?

*The lads queue waiting to hug MON in "the cuddle chair" before emerging on to the pitch*

Carew: Lads? Lads!? What did I win? ... In the draw?