that if it was 10:29 he'd literally get into bed and hit the lights even if he hadn't had a chance to change out of his Sunday clothes. He also wouldn't laugh because "no loud laughter" promises he'd made (he explained it to me). He'd sometimes give you a small, quick smile just to let you know he was not a cyborg, but then get back to business.

He was a district leader and I was a zone leader. I did splits with him and I told him to chill and he gave me a glare that basically conveyed that I was going to hell. I was an absolute failure in his eyes.

Every missionary he worked with hated him to no end--like really hated him and wanted nothing to do with him. They called him the "Diamond Broker" because he was clenched so tight....think Ferris Beuler.

He finally came to blows with a companion and got jacked in the face and physically thrown out of their car onto the median. He called the mission president from a payphone, abandoned, in College Station, Texas.