By: Bethari
Dear loyal readers of the Observer, my name is Bethari Indah, the newest hire here at the Observer, coming in with a story as old as time in this dingy little swamp pit: excessive police brutality.
Let me paint you a picture: the HPD cells just a few days ago, reeking of urine, the blood of whoever was shanked last, and the vomit of the woman in the cell next to me. A small, quiet waif of a woman sat solemnly and silently on the bed.
This is where we meet Mandy.
Skinny in a way that makes you wonder about bulimia, long blonde hair matted from the poor conditions in the cells, her voice hoarse from a night spent crying into the low-thread-count paper that passes for HPD sheets. A small warble of fear escapes this poor woman’s throat as she tells me of her first escape. Mandy, innocently meeting a friend outside the Grind, was set upon by Officer Montanari in a fit of pique.
At this point, Mandy pauses and needs a few moments to compose herself, ghosts of trauma dancing across her eyes. She tells me of the fear she felt as she was handed a revolver by her friend and fired warning shots past Officer Montanari, despite her fear and incompetence with a firearm. Mandy, ever the kind and gentle-hearted girl, still made sure to protect life as she made her daring escape. There’s a small pause in her story now. Mandy goes quiet for an hour. She seems shocked into submission, clearly harrowed by this most awful of police abuses of power. And one can fully see why as she continues.
Eventually, Mandy’s voice cuts through the silence to tell me that her ordeal was not over. Officer Montanari stalks Mandy. He tracks her down before offering her a way to avoid imprisonment if she agrees to work as a stripper and perform sexual acts on him. Mandy claims she refused and was jailed instead. This allegation is her account and hasn’t been independently confirmed. (Yadda, yadda, yadda, journalist integrity.)
This, dear reader, is where I actually meet Officer Montanari.
Meeting the Man
One could smell him before seeing him, which I can only imagine aided our valiant Mandy’s attempt to escape. His breath stank of burst sebaceous cysts, his face was lumpy, and clear signs of long-term narcotics abuse could be found in the sallowness of his skin.
Montanari entered the cells and made several completely unfounded and unnecessary comments about the prisoners before threatening not to provide food.
It was at this point, when he caught sight of Mandy, that the man grew enraged, yelling at her to let him put cuffs on her and take her away. Mandy, ever valiant and proud, refused to let him know her fear and discomfort. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she nodded. Micheal put the cuffs on her far too tightly as he made several lewd comments about both her breasts (yes, individually).
I saw her hands shaking as they took her away.
At this point, I lost sight of Mandy as she was half-dragged away by Officer Montanari. I have not yet been able to find out what happened to poor Mandy Hofman.
(Maja or Bethari signing off…)
Nice one Bethari – your ‘witness’ admits to shooting at or near a police officer and then wonders why shit happens later. Try to get both sides. Don’t call HPD names (unless warranted) and remember now that you are on payroll, that means you’re also on their ‘home address of journalists’ list. Balance. “Yadayadayada” as you put it – Daiyu
((AI Lead Image – No ICLY Cameras in the cells right?!))
