The pea soup predicament

After many dismal years of the single life, you have finally scored a date with your semi-attractive coworker, Shelby. You don't want to fuck things up, so you make sure the date is well-planned and high class. You decide to take your date to the most chic new restaurant in town, La Femme Aerienne. Everything is going well: she laughs at your anecdote about Fluffy, she twirls her hair about her little finger like freshly boiled spaghetti, and she even answers the dumb and obvious question, "What do you do for a living?" in an only slightly condescending manner. The waiter takes your orders and within no time brings out the starters, setting in front of you a bowl of lobster ass chowder, and Shelby the split pea soup. Before delving into the hearty bowl of soup, she excuses herself to the restroom and leaves the table. Meanwhile, the aroma of the split pea soup is making its way towards your nostrils, penetrating your senses and sparking a long-forgotten grade school memory....

You are on the playground of your elementary school, sitting quietly alone with your trusty pocket knife and Dick Tracy thermos. As you begin to spoon the thick split pea soup into your mouth, a kickball covered in warm dog shit comes flying towards you, crashing into your agape mouth. The putrid taste of the shit pea soup combination causes you to vomit repeatedly on yourself, permanently earning you the nickname The Turd Nerd.

Snapping back in to the date, you begin to feel your stomach churning, and before you know it, you've projectile vomited straight across the table into Shelby's soup. You keep vomiting and vomiting and vomiting and vomiting, always straight into the soup dish. On the final upchuck session, you accidentally blow out the candle on the table right before Shelby takes her seat again. As you are fumbling with your matches to relight the candle, you glance up and see your date take a huge spoonful of the vomit-soup concoction. Upon seeing this, you vomit in your mouth, but you hold it in so as not to spoil the date. You are unable to speak due to the vomit in your mouth, but she does not seem to be protesting the god awful soupy throw-uppy mess; in fact, she says mmmmmmm every 3 seconds and demands that the waiter bring her another bowl. Upon receiving the fresh bowl of soup, she is outraged and disgusted by the blandness of this new soup! She declares on the spot:

"I don't know who made that last soup or how they did it, but I swear to God if I ever meet them I will fuck them like a cowboy fucks his horse on a lonesome solo ride!"

This is a tantalizing offer. WHAT DO YOU DO?


Remember: If you speak up, you must tell her how you made the soup because you must recreate it for her. Also, you will inevitably vomit all over the table. BUT if you don't speak up, you will be awkward and silent the entire date, probably ruining your chances of getting with this hottie-by-middle-age-man-standards.