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About Utrecht

Oh, and the oil—smells like sex and flowers. Slippery as a Lannister lie. I ask her, “What’s in this?” She says, “Secret.” Secret my arse—I bet it’s just posh lard. Still, I’m floatin’, mate. Floatin’. “What does it mean?” I mumble, like some twat from the movie. She don’t answer—just keeps rubbin’. Good enough for me.

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I get to the station, and there’s Jeroen, looking all frazzled. He’s like, “Man, I thought I’d never see you again!” I’m like, “Chill, bro, it’s just Waalwijk.” But honestly, I was kinda glad to see him. We grab some fries from that little stand near the station. You know the one? Best fries in town, hands down.

Preview: Willem II vs. RKC Waalwijk - prediction, team news, lineups