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D.C. SUPERIOR COURTHOUSE
“Thurman, you’re the man,” David Thurman said, referring to himself in the third person.
The murderer was being escorted from the attorney’s interview room inside of the D.C. Superior Courthouse by Supervisory Detention Enforcement Officer Errol Clarkson. The top cop of the cell block was charged with moving Thurman back to a holding cell, before being transported to the D.C. Jail.
“Thurman mini-rant.”
“Shut your fucking pie-hole,” Officer Clarkson said, pulling Thurman forcefully by his arm restraints.
Thurman continued to shuffle along, slowly, because of the leg restraints. The Government had deemed him a threat to national security and instructed U.S. Marshals to guard him with force.
“I’m probably not going to be silenced,” Thurman said, frowning and tilting his head to the side. “When I get out, and I am, what I am going to do, though, I’m going to put my dick in all three of your wife’s pie holes.”
Using a leg sweep action to demonstrate his disdain for the bloody killer, Officer Clarkson forced Thurman to fall face first and did not break his fall. Thurman let out a vicious howl, noticing blood on the concrete under his face.
“That’s all you got,” Thurman said, spitting out blood and a tooth, “you son-of-a-bitch. You’re a dead man. I promise you that, Officer Clarkson.”
Officer Dancy smelled the backlash, and radioed to control, “We need medical assistance in the cell clock, ASAP.” He then turned to Officer Clarkson and said, “You need to get your story together immediately.”