Who has the tigers and who the sheep br br never seems to make any difference. br br The result is always the same: br br She wins, br br I lose. br br But sometimes when her tigers br br are on the rampage, br br and I've lost half my herd of sheep, br br help comes from unexpected quarters: br br Above. br br The Rusty Shield Bearer, br br neutral till then, br br para-drops a winning flower — br br yellow br br and irrelevant — br br on the checkerboard br br drawn on the pavement in charcoal, br br cutting off the retreat br br of one tiger, br br and giving a check to the other; br br and quickly follows it up br br with another flower — br br just as yellow br br and just as irrelevant — except br br that it comes down even more slowly; br br a flower without a search warrant br br that brushes past her earlobe, br br grazes her cheek, br br and disappears down the front br br of her low-cut blouse — br br where she usually keeps br br her stash of hash — br br to confuse her even further, with its mildly br br narcotic br br but very distracting fragrance.