I am eating my soup right now and it is delicious. It is mushroom soup. I reminds me of a time....
"Soups on!" my sister calls from the tiny kitchen of her apartment.
She had decided to make me lunch one day while I was staying with her and working for the summer.
'What is that horrid stench?" I politely asked her as I walked into the kitchen.
"Lunch" She replied, and ladled me a bowl.
'Is it supposed to be smoking like that? " I said as I took the bowl from her, which was eroding before my eyes.
"Its hot! That is just some steam!" She insisted.
"Is it regular mushroom soup?' I queried.
"Why does it have that smokey taste?"
"What do you mean smokey taste?" She asked as the apartment filed with smoke.
"Kinda of like a burnt taste, I guess" As I took as sip and received what i believed to be second degree burns to the inside of my mouth.
"Oh. Well I think it's cajun mushroom soup"
"Really? Where is the can?"
"Well it is not actually cajun. The bottom got a little burnt. It adds flavour."
"It is a thousand degrees I can't taste anything but fire!"
"Add some cracker!"
"I did but they brunt up before they reached the surface."
"Fine," She said, "Let's go out and eat something."
And as we were leaving the firemen crashed through the door and extinguish the soup.