Wilkey wrote in the affidavit that he felt a “hard object” around Mitchell’s crotch.
Ain’t no shame—or godliness—in a young Tennessee cop’s game.
Hamilton County Sheriff’s Deputy Daniel Wilkey, 26, was arrested Tuesday, December 10, 2019, on charges including rape, sexual battery, false imprisonment, extortion, stalking, assault, oppression, and reckless driving. In other words, the deputy has been charged with taking and beating up the cookie; people-keeping against their will; demanding “sexual treats” through menacing; popping up where not wanted; putting a knee literally and figuratively on the necks of citizens he took an oath to protect; and driving like a fool.
According to court documents, on one count, when Ms. Shandle Riley woke up one steamy Tennessee morning, little did she know she would encounter a “come to Jesus” moment. Ms. Riley’s car had just bounced off the curb on a visit to her child, when Deputy Daniel Wilkey, engaging in a bit of role-play on taxpayer dimes as False Prophet Daniel, initiated a traffic stop. Deputy Wilkey pulled Riley over because it struck him out the clear blue that she possessed meth-am-phet-a-mine. Deputy Wilkey ordered her out of the car and wasted not a word touching her up during a body search. False Prophet Daniel, sick psycho freak that he is, resting his hands on his hips, bid Ms. Riley to release her girls. Yes, those girls. ‘Go on take off that bra and shake that bra out, shirt, too.”
“Are you saved?” Deputy Daniel Wilkey asks, before leading Shandle Marie Riley to an impromptu baptism in Soddy Lake, Tn.
When Deputy Daniel Wilkey asked Ms. Riley about any illegals (drugs, people) in her car (anything at all to help justify the harassment or to make solid his porous suspicions), Ms. Riley mentioned she just might have a “roach” in her pack of NewPorts. Other than that, all she had left was her dignity and a little respect. So with the word “roach” stirring up evil in the flesh, False Prophet Daniel, calling her a “piece of shit,” gathered those up, and took them too.
Then, in a twinklin’ of an eye, “the spirit” reentered him, and Wilkey kindly asked if she’d been “saved” by Christ. Then “the spirit” working on the inside of Wilkey compelled Ms. Riley to grab some towels. That’s because if she agreed to be led down the righteous path to a lake to be cleansed of her sins, she would finally be free to go—with only a criminal citation for having roaches. Constrained by the power of authority over her, Ms. Riley followed False Prophet Daniel down to the riverside, where he stripped down to his tighty-whiteys and led her into the cuh-cuh-cold water for a sin (and inflammation) relieving baptism.
Needless to say, Ms. Shandle Riley, shivering like a dog and horribly violated, was brought in her soul lower than a mangy animal. The other deputy, Jacob Goforth, was present but did not go forth in participating in the baptism, nor did the useless by-standin’, perpetrator-of-a-river-dunkin-by-proxy go forth in intervening. Deputy Wilkey was indicted on charges of extortion and false imprisonment relating to the February 2019 arrest of Shandle Riley. Also needless to say, Shandle Riley is suing Hamilton County, Wilkey, and his partner, deputy Go-not-forth, alleging her civil rights were not only violated. But sodden and tooken.
Now while a Daniel and a Jacob might have manifested in this story, this next tale ain’t fit for no Sunday School. Since July of 2019, Deputy Daniel Wilkey was still enjoying paid administrative leave on a diet of banana and mayonnaise sandwiches in a double-wide in a trailer park when the false prophet’s own dash-cam footage revealed how deep down he really likes to get down.
Little did Mr. James Mitchell know when he and his girlfriend, both African American, drove off, down a highway, the highway would no longer be dark or lonely, thanks to the flashing lights of Deputy Daniel Wilkey, a.k.a. Dr. Strangelove.
Wilkey can be seen getting all up in Mr. Mitchell’s package.
Deputy Daniel Wilkey apparently didn’t like the tint of Mitchell’s windows. Black. Wriggling his nose and turned off by what he believed to be the skunky, swampiness between Mary and/or Jane’s legs, Dr. Strangelove, along with Deputy Bobby Brewer, ordered the night riders out of the vehicle for a good airing out. Kinky Wilkey handcuffed the black man Mitchell and began touching him up. Boy, oh boy, did he ever touch and feel’im up! Handsy, up and down his pants. Handsy, behind the balls. Handsy from behind, swiping back and forth from the backwoods anus to the black beast lying curled upfront asleep. A dis-gusssstin’ trespass to see.
“Wilkey wrote in the affidavit that he felt a “hard object” around Mitchell’s crotch.”
Now our victim, Mr. James Mitchell, just so happened to have a busted hernia. So Mr. Mitchell cried, “Damn, man. Ouch, man, and I ain’t got nothin’ man” about a hundred times to no avail.
But Mr. Mitchell had forgotten, as a black man, he likely had the one thing all white men desire…curled upfront asleep.
Deputy Wilkey, sadomasochist that he is, lifted his knee and thrust it into Mr. Mitchell’s abdomen. Wilkey and Brewer threw Mr. Mitchell, still handcuffed, to the grassy knoll, punching and kicking him with furious feet and hands and power-driving their elbows into his back like savages, to the tune of Mr. Mitchell yelping in pain. Then the freakiest, most egregious of exploits unfolded.
Wilkey removed Mitchell’s pants, bent him over the hood of his car, and finger-phucked him without consent by the side of the road. Brewer stood there—leanin’ round lookin’ and smackin’ his gum—until the stench of open a$$, assailing his nose, straightened his back. Mitchell’s girlfriend, fearing she’d be dealt the same arm—uh, finger—of the law, or that Mitchell would be killed by the Blue Klux Klan, was forced to watch with her hands cuffed in a gentle clasp behind her back. After his humiliating subjection to the 1950’s-style torture, to add insult to injury to the pain already throbbing in a black man’s a$$, Mr. Mitchell, at first forced to smother in a hot cop car, wind-ers up, was hauled off to jail on multiple charges — including resisting arrest. After making bail, Mr. Mitchell high-tailed it to the hospital for rips in his anus, contusions, and an aggravated hernia, which later required surgery.
Needful to say, charges against Mr. James Mitchell were dismissed, tossed to the trash like sh!t on a used rubber glove. And, for the roadside beat down and backwoods anal-raid of a black man, the black man, James Mitchell, filed a lawsuit posthaste against Dr. Strangelove. For his July 10 backdoor invasion, Deputy Daniel Wilkey was charged with rape and obstruction, for the unlawful arrest.
Mitchell’s molestation, igniting community and national outrage, was referred to the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation for review. The resulting findings, referred to the Hamilton County District Attorney General, brought forth indictments on 44 criminal counts.
Exposed for tolerating instead of condemning the ongoing and perpetual bad acts of county employees, reassuring the community of his devotion to dooty, Hamilton County Sheriff Jim Hammond promised, “Each and every day from here on out, I will take the responsibility of protecting this community and its citizens seriously—you know, until the heat dies down.”
Sure you will. Sure you will, Sheriff Hammond. Now that your hands are cuffed behind your back and you have no choice but to bend over and take the screw-tinity.
According to vice.com, civil lawsuits were already stacking up a mile high against Deputy Daniel Wilkey for misconduct. Robin Flores, a local civil rights attorney (and former po-po) represents several of Wilkey’s victims, some of whom are young’uns, also alleging invasive body searches from the creep in cop’s clothing. Thanks to a laundry list of prior bad acts, the law is red-hot and heavy, riding Wilkey’s tail. And none too soon. For a change.
Straight up children of the corn.