I'd been practicing my clarinet in the bathroom for what felt like hours, trying to perfect that one tricky note, when suddenly the landlord burst in to tell me about the leaky pipe. In the chaos, my clarinet slipped out of my fingers and landed on the edge of the tub, where it started playing an unsettlingly perfect rendition of "La Cumparsita." I frantically grabbed it back, feeling a mix of relief and terror as he shook his head, clearly thinking I'd deliberately used the instrument to distract him.
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