My older brother told me this joke when I was six years old:
The King’s Dying Wish
Long ago, when ping pong balls were rare and precious, a dying king summoned his three sons.
The King was a table tennis fanatic. He said " My dying wish is for you to bring me ping pong balls."
The eldest returned a week later with a treasure chest full of them. The king was pleased.
The second returned a month later with a whole boxcar of them. The king was overjoyed.
Two years passed before the youngest staggered in, battered and worn, carrying only a bulging handkerchief.
The king opened it, recoiled, and shouted, “What are these bloody hairy things?!”
The prince bowed. “Just as you commanded, Father… King Kong’s balls.”
Post a Comment