Octavius was no ordinary octopus. He had a penchant for the peculiar, a love for the unusual, a hunger for the arcane. While his brethren were content with their squid ink and slippery symbolic language, Octavius dreamt of grander things. He yearned for the tactile, the solid.

Mulligan, on the other hand, was a taciturn mule of modest means. He lived a simple life, content with his hay and his work. Yet, beneath his stoic exterior, Mulligan harbored a secret passion for the intricate, the delicate. He longed to create, to shape something with his own hooves.

Naturally, their paths crossed one fateful day at the beach. Octavius, drawn to the peculiar shape of Mulligan's ears, ventured out of the ocean to introduce himself. Mulligan, surprised but intrigued, listened as Octavius spoke of his constructivist dreams.

"I've always wanted to create something with my tentacles," Octavius confessed. "Something useful, something beautiful." Mulligan, touched by Octavius' enthusiasm, shared his own secret. "I've often thought about making something with my hooves," he confided.

Together, they decided to embark on a daring adventure. They gathered materials from the land and sea, combining the cutting strength of Mulligan's hooves with the dexterity of Octavius' tentacles. They worked tirelessly, their days filled with the rhythmic taps and sways.

After weeks of labor, their creation was complete. The wooden frame, stamped by Mulligan's hooves, housed rows of delicate keys, each one carefully arranged by Octavius' tentacles. Atop the keys was a soft, glowing lamp, its light pouring down the form like satin. It was a testament to their unlikely friendship, a symbol of their shared passion for the extraordinary.