Officers Derrell and George get a "domestic" call at a familiar address. It’s the residence of Libby and Fester — a couple with "the worst marriage in recorded history," according to Officer Derrell.

When our guys arrive at the house, Libby is already locked in the bedroom and Fester is in the kitchen. He’s holding a 14-inch chef’s knife.

It’s an established police training fact that a man with a knife in his hand can cross an 18-foot room and plunge a knife into a cop’s chest before the cop can clear his holster. So, 20 feet is the absolute minimum distance a cop can allow.

Because of the knife, Derrell and George have already drawn their pistols and both officers dare not even blink while Fester is so close to them.

Derrell raises his pistol and orders: "Drop the knife, Fester, or I’ll shoot!" He gives this order three times but Fester doesn’t flinch.

"Now you made me mad," Derrell says as he assumes the three-point-stance just like at the firearms range. "I’m gonna count to three, and then I’m gonna blow your ugly head off! One—two—thr...."

KLINK! Fester drops the knife and puts both hands on top of his head. Derrell promptly handcuffs his prisoner and places him, forthwith, in the back of a patrol car.

Before they leave for the jail, Derrell turns back toward Fester and says, "I told you to drop the knife three times! Why did you wait so long? I might’ve shot you."

Fester, handcuffed in the back seat, shrugs his shoulders. "I didn’t think you was really gonna shoot me, but when you was counting to three I seen your partner, George there, squint his eyes and cover his ears. That’s when I just knowed it was the end o’ me!"

Derrell turns to George. "Did you really do that? Did you act like I was gettin’ ready to shoot this idiot?"

George laughs. "You always tell me you’re a man of your word—and you know how I hate loud noises."