It's my soup damn it!

I felt I needed to come clean about my love for soup and how I won’t give Joel a single sip.
It goes back to the days of Super Nintendo and Sega Genisis. The good ol’ days where a pop costed a dollar and you didn’t have to go to a website to win a prize.
It was a hot summer day. The air was muggy and all the cool kids in Rocky were gathered in Joel’s townhouse.
Joel, Orlin, Court, Mike and I were playing videogames. It was Street Fighter II and Joel was winning non-stop.
It wasn’t because he was the skilled video guru he thought he was. It was because he found the cheapest guy and did the same moves over and over.
He was Blanka, the green guy from South America. Joel would sit in the corner and put up his electric force field. When he wasn’t doing that, he was zipping across the screen in a ball.
It was a totally impenetrable attack. He won 27 straight matches. It was a record among the town of Rocky. It probably still stands today.
At one point I tried to pry the controller out of his steely hands before his time had come. It didn’t work. My little girly arms just weren’t strong enough. Joel’s hands had countless hours of exercise compressing the a,b,x,y buttons. I never had a chance, but I knew I’d one day get my revenge.
It wasn’t until Orlin did the exact same thing were we able to knock Joel off the top of the podium. The rest of us erupted into cheers for the victorious Orlin.
Joel, on the other hand, sat in disbelief, then went red with fury. He stood straight up and ran to his room. Only sobs could be heard from the other side of the brown, wooden door.
I’ll never forget that day.
To get my revenge, I vowed never to let Joel have any of my soup. It doesn’t matter what kind. Even if Joel was dying of some weird condition and a bowl of my tomato soup would cure him, I wouldn’t give him any.