Q5: The Pink Ping Pong Ball Story, Part Five

Okay, I’m going to rush this one because I need to sleep.  Sorry if this enormous ending I’ve been leading up to is a complete disappointment.

After the kid asks for the pink ping balls for the third time in a row, the parents never really let down their guard.  They would try to approach their son casually about what exactly he was doing with all the pink pong balls, but he refused to tell every time.  A very long time passed, and the boy blossomed into a young man.  Soon, he found a girl and popped the question.  She said yes.  Yay.

Anyway, on the night the parents found out their beloved yet slightly misunderstood son was getting married, they embraced him, congratulated him, and tentatively told him,

“Son, we are so proud of you.  You’re very successful, and we love Ping” (the boy’s fiancée was oriental).

 

“Son, we are willing to buy you any house you want, be it a mansion or a box.  Money is not an issue.”

Their son replied, “I have thought long and hard about what I want for myself, and I have come to a decision.”  The parents held their breath.  “All I want is two thousand pink ping pong balls.”

The parents were dumbstruck.  Why?  Why did their son want these and what was he doing with them?  They knew it was useless to ask him though, and they just wanted their son to be happy, so they bought all two thousand pink ping pong balls for him.  They never saw them again after that day.

Years and years went by.  The Child was now happily married, and had four children of his own.  One day, while taking a stroll down the street at night, the Son was hit by a pink van and then abandoned on the side of the road.  Luckily, someone found him, and was hospitalized in critical condition.

The doctors did their tests, and came up with the results that the Son was not going to make it; he had internal bleeding and only hours to live.  The doctors let in the boy’s parents to say a final goodbye. 

“We love you, Son,” they said.  What their son said next made the Mother gasp.

“I have something to tell you,” he wheezed.  “What I’ve been doing with all the pink ping pong balls.”

“What is it, son?  Tell us,” was the Father’s reply.  The son opened his mouth to talk…

And then he died.