And now, what you’ve all been waiting for: the conclusion of
the three blog long epic adventure story tale,
The Pink
Ping Pong Ball Story
If you haven’t
caught on yet, this is a continuation of my two other blogs, so you should probably
read them before you go and find out the ending to the whole story I’ve got
going. Now, where did I leave off? Ah, yes.
Ahem.
So another
perfectly normal year rolled around, and the Mother and Father never heard
anything about any pink pong balls. They
still dreaded their son’s ninth birthday, though, as they were sure he’d ask
for more pink ping pong balls (a most odd request). But to the overjoy of the parents, when they
offered him anything he wanted again, he wished for a new red tricycle. The Father was a little concerned that his
son was still riding a tricycle at age nine, but it beat the heck out of buying
more pink pong balls and thinking your son was crazy.
Years and
years passed, and the kid grew into a teenager.
It had been nearly eight years since the boy had asked for pink ping
pong balls, and his parents had almost entirely forgotten the whole
incident. Pretty soon, the boy was
graduating from high school with an advanced diploma. The parents, brimming with pride for their
son, and not afraid to ask the following question anymore, said,
“Son, we are
so proud of you. We are willing to buy
you any car you want; a Lamborghini, a Porche, a beetle, whatever you
want! Money is not an issue.”
The son
replied, much to his parents’ shock, “No thanks. I just want fifty pink ping pong balls.”
The parents,
utterly bewildered, gave their son what he asked. They never saw the pink ping pong balls
again. I totally lied about this being
the end.
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