Y'know, for years, astromoners on Earth puzzled at the strange little moon that orbits geosynchronously around the vastly distant, icy planet of Solon. Dubbed "Minim A437", it exhibited classic characteristics of a pulsar; yet pulsars were thought previously to be collapsed stars and not mere dead planetary satellites. But for lack of any other explanation as to why the faint glowing pulses emanating from the moon occured as a series of three equally spaced bursts of reddish light that ever-so-barely pierced the darkeness, they maintained its classification as a pulsar and laid the matter to rest.
What these terrestrial astronomers would never realize by peering into even the most powerful of their telescopes - and from such a vast distance away - was that Minim was a favored cosmic destination for the souls of composers, orchestrators, arrangers and copyists who had left this mortal coil for eternity and a pint. Yes, a pint. For the bursts of light that so perplexed the scientists were but the flashings of a neon sign which advertised this astral watering hole...
"Quaver"
"And"
"Quill"
"Quaver"
"And"
"Quill"
I've visited there on occasion myself during a few of my self-induced out of body journies, but only during a few dark times in my life when I baffled hopelessly over the complexities of notation and could not find the answers within myself (or the manual). They are very accomomodating to serve (a pint) to the troubled souls of the still-living, and the patrons are more than sympathetic to the perplexing difficulties we face as those who make their living dashing bits of black against the white page.
They have but three house rules for transient visitors such as myself: you must tip your bartender, pay careful attention to those offering advice, and, most importantly, show them a bit of gratitude. Violate any of these rules and you may only return upon your demise! So I have always been careful to abide by these axioms. There are those, however, who do not share such civilities even with their compatriots on terra firma, and thus would not be welcome at the Q&Q. I pity their poor souls, for they know not better...