But things don’t always go smoothly for Otto. One day he was playing to a street crowd with a puppet on his arm when a drugged person came up to him and started talking roughly to the puppet.

“Otto was just unable to resist the opportunity. ‘Come on! Come on! You got a problem, tough guy? Come on!’

“‘Oh, yeah? How do you like this?’ The guy pulls a knife.

“Otto thinks he’s playing along. ‘Oh, yeah? What are you going to do with that? Oh, a pussy with a knife! You don’t have the balls to use it!’

I get a call. There was a problem at his house. He was inside, wouldn’t come out, had been drinking, and obviously has multiple firearms. I know this guy has a high potential for violence. I call in the response team, but I want him to trust me. They agree that the bulk of the tactical team will be in a parking lot a couple blocks away.

So I have the flak vest on and am walking up to his door, thinking to myself, He’s going to shoot me. I was thinking about the time I was married, about my family, my parents, my friends. I was thinking, I can’t believe that I just can’t turn around and go back. I’m going to get shot.

I get up to the door, swallow, turn around and wave to these guys. I knock on the door.

He opens. My heart is pounding. He opens the door and looks totally normal.

“Scott, I’m glad to see you. You’ve got to help me. Come on in.”

Ha. Meanwhile I’ve got my vest on.

He immediately see that and goes, “God, you know, I’m really sorry that you thought I was going to hurt you.”

“Well, you know George, with your temper.” I’m laughing, probably manic, silly at this point.

He’s huge with two sons bigger than he is, college football linemen, who would get in brawls in the front yard.