Anne was walking nervously into the dark and dingy mineshaft, when suddenly, a piano playing Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata fell on her head. "A-flat minor!" cackled Daniel, from the other side of the room. He tiptoed over to the piano to salvage the sheet music, which he had borrowed from the ASU Music Library.  As he sauntered away, thumbing through the translucent pages, Daniel heard a muffled voice emerging from the remains of the fallen piano.
"C sharp minor.  What kind of classical music nerd are you?"  Anne stood up with some difficulty, brushing dust off of her clothes and picking a stray white key out of her hair.
This was the latest in a series of classical music practical jokes that Daniel had played on Anne. It had all started over the summer when Daniel had learned that the Anne had also listened to Classical Kids CDs, a series of dramatic stories about classical music, as a child. They reminisced about the Pieta School for the Orphans in Venice in "Vivaldi's Ring of Mystery" and Katarina's exploits with Thomas, a boy who sings but does not speak in "Hallelujah Handel!"  Daniel had sent Anne the former through the computer and lent her “Mozart’s Magic Fantasy,” because her copies had disappeared in her family’s move to Arizona.  Anne had listened to “Ring of Mystery” so many times that she had soon learned to whistle “Violin Concerto in A-Minor” at top speed and extremely accurately.  She had even figured out where to insert Don Antonio’s “Brava!” and “B-flat coming up!”—all in her best impersonation of his smooth, lovely speaking voice.
That was before things started to turn ugly. Having finally found someone else who loved classical music as much as he did, Daniel had begun to play practical jokes on Anne. One night, Daniel had replaced all of Anne's bedding with her choir music, claiming he was just changing her sheet music. Another day, he had dared her to steal an old, stringed instrument from the local music store. Later, he had had a good laugh, saying that she had run off with the lute. Anne soon grew tired of these jokes, and one Saturday night, after feasting on a bowl of chocolate ice cream, she had begun to plot her revenge.
Unfortunately, the plotting wasn’t going very well.  Anne was feeling a little bit stressed out because of anxiety over Oberlin Conservatory auditions and schoolwork, and finding herself suddenly in a musty, cold, dank mineshaft did not help matters.
Anne glared at Daniel.  “That was a fantastic idea, Daniel,” she spat out.  “Do you even know how to get out of here?”  
“Actually,” replied Daniel, cracking a grin.  “I was hoping you could help me with that.  Here—“ he walked over to her and handed her the object he had been holding in his hand.  
Anne looked down at it.  “A flute?”  She looked at Daniel.  “Oh, wait.  Don’t tell me, I can guess where this is going.”  She sighed resignedly.  “It’s a magic flute, right?”
"Sure. Just tap the piano or something." She did, and only a few tired notes came out of the broken piano. "Well, maybe it's not a magic flute. Try this, then." He handed her a tiny wooden instrument.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" she queried.
"It's a garklein! Use it!"
Anne banged on the piano with the garklein, and a horde of monkeys climbed out, to the surprise of both Anne and Daniel. "I'll try the wall, then," she shrugged. She knocked on the wall, and a door suddenly appeared out of the dust. They pushed open the exit and heard an extremely familiar voice.
"Children!  I could hear that banging all the way down the hall.  What is going on?"