There was a three-year-old boy who had a tricycle, and he was riding around the block and crashed into a monastery. A monk picked him up and put him in a bed. The boy woke up and heard some praying noises and asked, “What's that noise?”

The monk said, “Can't tell you, you're not a monk.”

So when the boy was seven he got a mountain bike, and he rode around the block and crashed into the monastery. The monk picked him up and put him in a bed. The boy woke up and heard some praying noises and said, “What is that noise?”

The monk said, “Can't tell you, you're not a monk.”

So when the boy was fifteen, he got a motorbike and rode around the block and crashed into the monastery. The monk picked him up and put him into a bed. The boy woke up and said, “What is that noise?”

The monk said, “Can't tell you, you're not a monk.”

So when the boy was twenty-three, he said, “I have to know what that noise is,” and he went to monk college for three years and got his monk license. When he was twenty-eight, he got a car and drove around the block and crashed into the monastery. The monk picked him up and put him into a bed. The boy woke up and heard that praying noise and said, “What is that noise?”

The monk said, “Can't tell you, you're not a monk.”

Then the boy pulled out his monk license and showed it to the monk. The monk said, “Come this way.” So the boy followed him, and he went threw a wooden door, then a silver door, then a golden door and can you guess what he heard?

Can't tell you, you're not a monk!

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