accepting a challenge from a street fighter pro not knowing he was a street fighter pro

A week or so ago Jack&I went comic book shopping in town. The bus we needed to return wouldn't get there for another 15 minutes so we decided to go play some street fightervsCapcom at the arcade. I destroyed Jack with my E.Honda/Ryu/Chun-Li combination+i was totally in the zone, throwing fire balls frither&fucking yon. Then this guy with a pierced ear who had been watching us play was all "you wanna challenge bro?"."sure thing" I said. I had never been challenged to street fighter before by a stranger at the arcade. This particular machine had always been kind to me, I could always beat jack because he can't do a hadouken and one time i went to play and this guy i really hate was leaving and he told me that he had just been playing street fighter and some bullshit about how it was his favourite game (idiot, it's not even the right one. Super street fighter 2 turbo is the one you want. This one has like 10000000 characters, no way is it balanced). He left and when i got to the machine i found twenty bucks which i knew was his&I didn't return it because he is a dick&I was running out of money. At this point i thought i was ok at street fighter and might have a chance against this old, ear piercing having fag.

"you're probably better than me, you've got one them special cards" he said pointing at my plastic timezone card and casually swiping his shitty assed cardboard one.

I knew i was fucked as soon as he started warming up. He flicked all the buttons perfectly with one freaky hand gesture and began selecting his characters, Ken/Ryu/Akuma. This motherfucker had been watching me play. He knew he could kick my ass and he did. It was brutal. He beat two of my characters with me barely touching his first.
"i've been playing this since before you born" he said like a fucking fuck, chewing gum like some over confident obese kid who listens to Limp bizkit 10 years ago and makes his own hair gel out vaseline &vicks because his parents won't buy him for the real stuff.

He beat me and i left feeling grateful that the internet was invented so that i could shout my insults through a microphone instead of having to walk away defeated like a father who lost custody of his kids turning round to take one last look at his old family and the psycho bitch who took his house, half his life savings and children.

As i was getting on the bus i realised i didn't have my comic books.
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU i ran back to the machine and asked if he had seen a brown paper bag on the machine to which he replied "has that gotcha' weed in it bruh?"
I just walked the fuck out of there.