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Stardom I hadn't seen Tom in over five years and when I did he was missing an arm. "It happened in Kansas," he said. "On a machine called a Hay Baler." I leaned forward on the kitchen table trying to see inside where he had knotted the sleeve. Where his elbow should have been. "Check this out," he said, and with his remaining hand began tapping a beat on the kitchen table. "Not bad," I said. "Yeah, I'm going to be a drummer," he said. "Like that guy from Def Leopard." He then proceeded to go into a drum solo, hitting imaginary cymbals around the kitchen light before going back to the snare drum somewhere near his left shoulder. "You're a star," I said. Tom smiled, now back in the verse. "You ever see a Hay Baler?" he asked. "You wouldn't believe what these fucking blades look like."
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