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Purveyor of Fretted Instruments

You're walking in a downtown city area when it begins to rain heavily, so you duck under the awning of a music store you've never been to nor had interest in before. An old man, the owner of the store, invites you in and you call a friend of yours to pick you up. In the mean time, you bide your time by looking at the instruments there. There's rows of acoustic guitars, as to be expected, but you also see some instruments that look like their prototypical selves yet give off a strange pull. You go to feel them and investigate what is wrong with them; you feel you begin to understand the hidden purpose of the instrument from touch alone.
Guitar: If you bring this one home, people will be drawn to you. You will be more persuasive and have more charisma. However, whenever you are by yourself, you will find yourself constantly drowning in responsibilities. The moment anyone sees you, anything that you have ever done in the sight of another human being will be known.
Mandolin: You can split in two to do anything two people can. You can process thoughts across your two brains. Whenever you merge, you appear shimmery, which can intimidate or please depending on how you pull it off. Split or unsplit, you will have the calorie requirements of two people, and split you will have twice as much surface area to do injury to.
Bass: You pick it up and feel your muscles tighten. If you keep this, you will become stronger and more physically fit, and improving your body will be easier. However, you'll also find yourself being disregarded and ignored much of the time, and the people who do pay you mind if you don't go out of your way to get their attention will be obnoxious and, if you allow them to become your social bubble, rub off on you.
Banjo: You peek inside the resonator and find a title hidden inside; it comes with the banjo. The title is to a cottage home on a forty-acre plot in a secluded part of Arkansas, far from any of the troubles of modern life. You can never leave the plot or add on to it, but you will never lose the plot, and within it you can control and mutate all plant life within it. So long as you tend the land, you will not age. Guests on the plot, invited or not, will be inclined to be kind, and animals will generally obey you, except the mutant ones that will accrue the longer you live.
Ukulele: Picking it up, you feel a spring in your step. It's lightweight, and you feel the same. If you keep it, you'll turn into a hobbit, fast and dexterous. You'll find it easier to reach 95th percentile of any skill you attempt to learn. You'll also be as tall as a hobbit.
Viola Da Gamba: You blow the dust off of this relic. It seems to be here more as a novelty rather than for period music. If you keep it, you will be able to go to any point in history to watch but not influence what happens, and bring any number of guests with you. However, you will be destined to die in a historical battle where this time you actually can be touched, and trying to avoid this will lead to unlikely circumstances that will force you to go to one.
Your friend arrives. You're about to leave, but the old man insists that you buy something before you leave. You tell him you don't have the money for one. You put your phone back into your pocket and pull out a wad of cash that wasn't there before. The old man smiles. It's enough for any one of them. What do you take?
 

LAG

Troubadour
Tough choice between Mandolin, Banjo, and Viola Da Gamba. I give the old man a look, then let my eyes rove over the instruments once more, and finally hand him the wad cash and walk out of the store with my choice.

Got myself a banjo. Get set up on my plot, put webcams up on steel poles, and live out my immortal years by breeding ever more doomsdayish plants to battle the ever-increasing hordes of mutant animals. My own animal army is stationed around my home, beyond them is the first line of defense, a jungleish/swampish barrier of vampire vines, burrowing mine-melons and flying, brain-sucking orchid swarms. I dig out extensive, halogen-lit caverns beneath the plot so serve as laboratories/breeding-pens/nurseries/racetracks.

Soon enough, a circus town begins bordering my lands. I keep on breeding animals, expel the mutants to battle my plants, and all of it occurs on lovely pay-per-view, the profits of which I keep pumping into my portfolio of high-yield, long term investments. Soon enough, I buy Mongolia and hire droves of constructor bots to turn it into the galaxy's largest water park, netting me qzillions.

All the while, I twang my banjoooo.
 
throw money in face of old man and say "you can't unload your cursed instruments that easily!"

then grab mandolin and run while my other self distracts him.
 
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