The monks gathered in a circle in the hotel lobby, joining their wrinkled hands. Passersby stopped to watch as the leader, marked by his Elvis Presley wig, straightened to his full height to begin the ceremony. He hummed lowly in his chest, before beginning to speak in an ancient-sounding language. Slowly, the other monks joined in. Soon they separated into voice parts; the taller monks took up a lower, rhythmic chant while the others continued as they had before. It wasn’t long before another voice part joined the fray, an angelic soprano singing, "Ooh, ooooh! We’re no strangers to lo-o-ove; you know the rules, and so do I!"
Several monks’ chants broke off into confused hums, frowning at the soprano. "That’s not Elvis," said their leader. The offending monk frowned. "It’s not?" he asked, confused. Other monks continued chanting in the background.
A sudden bustle of activity turned the monks’ attention to the hotel concierge, who stomped angrily through the crowd. "Are you kidding me?" they yelled. "You have an audience! Nobody here knew it was supposed to be Elvis! If you all had just…chanted without the confused noises, nobody would know! The performance is ruined!"
The monks who had still been chanting began making confused noises, having been too focused on their task to hear the concierge. The others, however, were in outrage. This person dared turn their religious ceremony into a performance for tourists? However, she was still the one in charge. By the time they returned the next day, a sign had been erected: "Do not make confused noises when chanting." The monks resigned themselves to their fate.