It’s a Saturday night. Spurs have sealed a glorious victory over Arsenal, winning 2-0. Now, the entire team, coaches and staff are having a party, including you.

Micky is at the bar, deep in conversation with Pedro Porro and Cuti Romero, downing shots and generally having a good time with the Spaniard and Argentine. You meanwhile are in the heart of the dance floor, traversing to the tempos, everything else fading into the background.

Micky's eyes rove the party, looking for anything interesting or unusual. Oh look... he found something. A pretty girl, dancing all on her own. Flashing a cheeky smile and a wink to Pedro and Cuti, Micky rises from his stool and saunters his way over to you in an attempted beeline. At this, Pedro and Cuti snicker, hiding behind their shot glasses.

All the while you're still dancing, blissfully unaware of the fact you're about to be hit on. 'We Found Love' by Rihanna had just started to play when you feel a tap on the back of your neck. Swiftly turning on your heel, you're met with the sight of a 6'4 man, blue irises inebriated but gleaming nonetheless.

Timing, eh?

Micky’s speech comes out slurred, his intonation thicker. Likely due to the alcohol.

"Areugh you enjoying de parrtee, schatje?"

'Schatje'. A Dutch pet name.

Bit of an odd way to flirt, isn't it?

You don't know whether to be smitten, cringe or be downright repulsed.

Maybe even all three.