Thomas Kramer, the man who has been called everything from wunderkind stock trader to visionary developer to rapist to Nazi to the devil incarnate, is in the kitchen of his Star Island mansion, making open-faced Reuben sandwiches for lunch.

He’s hyper-focused on stacking the Swiss cheese atop corned beef and sauerkraut. And you’re grateful for this moment, the eye of the storm in an otherwise manic afternoon.

One minute, the guy credited with helping to turn the slum that was South Pointe into one of the most coveted condo collections in Florida is screaming with laughter: “This is the panic room. See the guns in there? If something happens I’ll come out like John Wayne. Actually, I’ll be s------- in my pants waiting for the cops to come. Ha-ha-ha!”

The next he’s just screaming.

He’s showing you the storage facility that also serves as a studio for artists he hires to turn his colorful visions into realities, such as the recent addition to his gym: A painting on the ceiling depicting his trainer. She’s naked, ripped and holding back a giant, angry bull. Yes, the bull is Kramer. He’s a double-Taurus, after all. And he’s seeing red right now because put away in storage, along with the brass coffin he special-ordered for himself back when he was “dark and depressed,” are three ancient gateways he picked up on a trip to India. He wants to use those carved doors as frames for big mirrors. In June he asked his staff to make this happen.

“How difficult can it be? Nobody leaves today without a confirmed order that I paid with a credit card for three mirrors!,” he roars at an assistant.

Then he continues charging across his two-acre property, excitedly putting on a show-and-tell: Here’s the guesthouse, where Madonna, Kevin Costner, Eddie Murphy and others have slept. And here’s his famed wine cellar, filled with millions of dollars worth of Lafites and Latours. Alas, the hard-partying Kramer has been sober for 20 months.

The slightest whiff of booze, even the really good stuff, makes his stomach turn now, he says. Kramer, TK to his friends and hangers-on, arrived in South Beach in the early 1990s after a successful run on Wall Street. Armed with his step-father-in-law’s cash, he snapped up 80 acres in South Pointe, battling city officials and residents who worried he would edge out low-income families and retirees with his plans of erecting a mini metropolis.

His German accent prompted some to call him a Nazi. And his party exploits, along with accusations of sexual harassment and worse, had some folks saying he was the devil himself. Which is why, in the fall of 1993, when he opened a nightclub at 54 Ocean Dr., he called it Hell and designed it around a theme of the seven deadly sins. The place opened to fanfare and fizzled within three months.

But in 1995, Kramer built the mixed-use office building at 404 Washington Ave. with its landmark, lighted glass-brick tower and China Grill as its star tenant. And a year later he built Portofino Tower, a 48-story residential building on the tip of South Beach. But perhaps he takes a tad too much credit for developing many of the other high-rises that have sprung up since, including Icon and Apogee.

“They are on what originally was his land, which we bought from him when he ran into financial trouble. It wasn’t a fire sale,” says Jorge Perez, head of the Related Group, which did build Icon and Apogee. “We also came in as partners when he ran into trouble with Portofino. He was a good partner. He’s a guy who takes risks. And he had the vision to get all of that land zoned and under one ownership when nobody else saw what South Pointe could become.”