WARNING: I am a dick for telling this.
There was once a man who had more money than all the other men in the world. If you would imagine an airplane hangar. If you would image seventeen airplane hangars. If you would imagine seventeen airplane hangars packed stuffed wall to wall with 1 dollar bills. Filthy lucre. That is what this man had. This man also had a pregnant wife. So on the day of his child's birth he rushes to the hospital where his wife is being taken care of. 17 hours of labor. Kid's born. Wife dies of complications. So, the man decides he has enough money and time to be a father and a mother to his kid. He's getting whatever he wants whenever he wants it. He deserves it for coming out alive. So.
Kid's two. Very educated. Tutored by the best tutors in the best tudors. Can speak English incredibly, learning German. So, his Father says to him, "Alright. It's your birthday and we going to get you whatever you want from where ever you want." Well, the kid wants to go to the local toy store. They get in the limo and ride down to the toy store, nice and personal-like. They look around for a while and finally the kids looks up at a box of Purple and Pink Polka-Dotted Ping-Pong Balls, and he says "I want all of the Purple and Pink Polka-Dotted Ping-Pong Balls." Didn't even stumble over the words. Clever kid. So, anyways the Father cleans out the place of the Purple and Pink Polka-Dotted Ping-Pong Balls and takes them home. For hours the kids just looks at them and smiles. Doesn't open them, barely goes so far as to touch the boxes they are kept in. He has them stored away in some room of the mansion. Never goes to look at them or anything. Just keeps them in a room to gather dust.
Kid's seven. Extraordinarily talented. Plays ball like Ruth, spits logic like Locke and sings like a Mockingbird. Dad's been very diligent and caring in raising the boy. Spends most of his time with the boy and delegates his executive powers like a demigod of the Fortune 500. Rockefeller as Zeus. J.P Morgan as Thor. The money fills at least one Sears Tower now. The kid has been going to the same toy store for five years and cleaning it out of the same Purple and Pink Polka-Dotted Ping-Pong Balls every year. Storing them in rooms until you open the door and all you see is neatly stacked boxes one on top of the other blocking any entry into that room forever. So his father is a little perplexed but figures, That's kids for you. Father says to the boy in a serene loving tone, "It's your birthday today, you know. Put away your books and we'll go to that toy store you like so much." The boy says to him "No, Dad. I don't think so." The father is taken by surprise, naturally. "Let's go to the department store that's just opened up in the Lower West Side." The father nods approval, and they both get in the Limo. They head to the department store and the kid makes a B-line for the Toy section of the massive establishment. He seeks out his target and finds it. The Purple and Pink Polka-Dotted Ping-Pong Balls. He says he wants them all. The Father cleans the monolith of bargains out of the Purple and Pink Polka-Dotted Ping-Pong Balls without a word of complaint. How could he? This is the only thing the child ever asks of him. He has no right to deny him.
Kid's Fifteen. Athletic, Intelligent, Talented, and has now started to woo the girls in his Boarding School with his considerable charms. In short, shaping up to be the only child a Father could ever ask for. He goes home for holiday. His Father is becoming a picture of Decline. His face wrinkled with the stress of running his company and all the troubles coming with that. His body becoming frail and slouched in contrast to the literally Upstanding man he once was. Yet the money kept flowing in. The onesies could easily fill any number of buildings. Could easily drown God. Could easily cover the hole in the ozone. Could easily fix all the problems in the world if not for the harmless, unassuming greed of the man sitting on it. His child says to him "Hello Father. I've missed you." Hugs him. Touching reunion. The Father and his son talk animatedly about the goings-on in both of their nowadays very separated lives. After a few hours of this the Father suddenly says, "I've missed your birthday, son! Come! We will go anywhere you desire. How old are you? Fifteen! My the years." The boy says to him calmly "Let's head to the old toy store I used to love." "Oh come now! Certainly there can be something more I can get you then those Purple and Pink Polka-Dotted Ping-Pong Balls." "No, there isn't Father." "Hurrumph. Let's be off then." They get there. They purchase the fabled spheres. The child has them stored in a storage facility owned by the Father. Years pass. And the next thing you know...
Eighteen! Graduated! A man by legal standards, though in the eyes of many he was much more than that by the time he was Fourteen. He gets a call from his Father. Pack your things and Come to Berlin. I have news for you. You will live here from now on, but not without good reason. You will not know how to contain yourself when you hear of this. Goodbye and I Love You. So. The boy/man/child/son gets on a flight, but decides that if he's to leave his home country he should take what is most personal to him with him so he does not have any reason to come back. So, he packs his clothing and all the little personal effects he had acquired throughout his life into a few bags, and loads up every single box of Purple and Pink Polka-Dotted Ping-Pong Balls on to a plane with him, and tells the pilot to start off for Berlin.
The Father is called to the ICU in a hospital in Paris. His son is in critical condition. Elderly Father in tears. He wanted to set him up as his company's new CEO. He was planning to retire. This boy had been his life, and now his life was about to end. He comes into the ICU and the doctor explains to him that the plane his boy had been riding in had crashed because of the strain the cargo had put on the plane's engines. Those damn Purple and Pink Polka-Dotted Ping-Pong Balls. They had been the death of him. The boy did not have long so it would be best if you say your goodbyes, say Monsieur Doctor. The Father enters and sees his boy in a horrible state. Blood stained, struggling to breathe. This kid had once been the pinnacle of health. Now he was on doom's doorstep.
"Dad?"
"Yes, my son?" Father choking back warm tears.
"I don't have long. If you have any Questions..."
The father thinks a while, and in a moment of selfish curiosity, he comes up with a question.
"I do. Why did you make me buy you all those blasted Purple and Pink Polka-Dotted Ping-Pong Balls?"
"Well, Dad."
The boy dies.
Tl;Dr: i am sorry for telling this joke.
