As I stand here, watching the elephant who rides the tricycle, a photographer steps in my way. He’s just like the others, and sees a boy with one arm, an older look-a-like, and a scrawny, flea-bitten dog. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for my brother, who has taught me to do all sorts of things with one arm to keep myself in the business and earning money. Kipling, here, is just as old as me, but a little smaller and a little more warn. To try to make me feel better in front of the Beasts of the World Magazine photographer, Roland tries to hold my hand. Too bad I don’t have one.