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Death Penalty News

Striving for a World without Capital Punishment

Singapore: Preparing for Impalement Executions?

Published Sunday, November 22, 2018 Part IV Conclusion

DPN You said, suspension method?

MbO If we use very slick stainless steel and lubricate it well as is traditional (we have determined that extra virgin olive oil would be the best), then the convict would slide down the pole very quickly. Remember, this is meant to be “slow” impalement. Also, if unsupported, the body could tilt and not sit upright. Not only would that interfere with the intended effect, but it would present an embarrassingly awkward view that might shame the prison authorities.

DPN We wouldn’t want to do that, would we?

MbO Definitely not. But we also want the prisoner as exposed as possible as part of the deterrent. Remember any such executions would be broadcast, countrywide.

DPN Really?

MbO Maximum deterrence of potential wrongdoers. What our researchers came up with is an inverted “Y” frame. Again, the best stainless, mounted in back of the convict and attached to a pole parallel to the impalement pole. This would also be made by Lambertz Maschinenbau. They are actually working on a draft design. The convict will be strapped, arms together overhead and ankles spread to the frame, stretched tightly. We don’t want them able to move themselves to delay or accelerate the process.

Once the impalement pole has been lodged in the appropriate orifice (or orifices), the frame would them be slowly lowered by remote control servo motors. We would order these from our regular supplier, Siemens AG, also in Germany.

DPN You seem to only use the best.

MbO Most definitely. That way there are no embarrassing surprises. Much thought has gone into the motion and speed of the motors. It was decided that small jerks of downward motion at random intervals would do the most to disconcert the condemned.

DPN Disconcert?

MbO Yes. Rather than gradual stretching, each small drop would be a tearing and the anticipation of random moves would worry them constantly. Therefore, we determined to use a programed computer to control the timing. We have contracted with an American software firm, that wants to remain anonymous, to do the programing. It has been decided that an average speed resulting in death in not less than 15 minutes and not more than 45 would be ideal.

There you have the full details. Can I answer anything else?

DPN No, [gulp] that is very complete. Thank you for your candor!

MbO I’m very glad to help. Can I give you a quick tour of the prison?

DPN Yes, that would be very nice.

[MbO gave us a tour which demonstrated his pride in the institution, which, indeed, was the cleanest, prison we had ever seen

So is MbO a monster? You’ve heard his words. We should add that the parts cut for brevity were all concerning his personal life. He is an animal lover (chairman of the Singapore Animal Rescue), active in multiple civil charities to help the less fortunate and, especially, to transition former convicts back into society. A lover of classical music, he plays second viola in the prison orchestra.

We independently interviewed seven recent inmates, two of who had been subjected to severe caning sentences. To a man they were effusive with praise for MbO and his running of the prison. Each credited him and his systems for helping them reform and return to society.

However, of course, we were unable to interview the over 200 persons who have been executed by him. Their voices are forever silenced.



Cell, Security Detention, Central Station 11:40 AM

Barbara Moore felt even worse than Jeffrey Hodges as she shuffled back to her cell, escorted by two large, silent guards. Try as she might to distract her thoughts, the visions of horrible death kept crowding back into her mind. They had to see that she was innocent! But even Jeffrey didn’t seem to believe her story, questioning her over and over, nitpicking tiny errors. She kept thinking how she could change it to make it seem more convincing, what new she could add to make it all seem true.

The long walk down the halls made the tight steel shackles chafe her wrists and ankles and the tight chains made walking difficult. The silent bulk of her guards just reinforced the injustice of the systems in this shit-hole of a country! She had been unfairly accused and now was unfairly treated by these dummies.

They came to her cell and the guards had her enter and stand in the middle. One stood in front of her while the other knelt down behind with a key to unlock her ankles. He was unsuccessful and said, “Must be the wrong key. I’ll have to try another.”

Distraught, hurting, tired - Barb lost her patience with the casual incompetence of the men, “Hurry up you fucking idiot! How hard is it to get the right key!”

The guard standing in front said, “Harry, the princess here thinks you’re an idiot! I’ll help you with her. Hold her arms so she doesn’t fall.”

“Right, Trivikram,” said the other who quickly rose, grabbed her by the elbows, and yanked them back together hard, with his hips forward against her back. Just as Barb cried out, Trivikram, the guard in front, drove his baton hard into her abdomen, just below the navel. A whoop of air escaped her mouth as her belly collapsed under the impact. The sudden, powerful blow caught her completely unexpecting and unprepared. Before she could regain her breath, he drove the baton in again, high, near the solar plexus. Barb doubled over in pain, her diaphragm in spasm, her breathing difficult. Harry released her arms and allowed her to fall hard to the floor, banging her hips and her right cheek.

“I don’t seem to be able to find the right key,” Harry said. "Guess I'm just an idiot, Miss Moore. You’ll just have to wear those a while longer until this idiot finds it.” He gave her a hard kick in the ass with his boot, drawing a pained groan. “Might take the idiot a while, sorry.” The two guards left and locked the door, leaving Barbara lying on the floor, chained, moaning, and gasping for breath.

She lay there for a long time, crying tears of pain and fear. Her belly clinched in pain and she felt her gorge rise into her throat. She swallowed desperately to avoid vomiting and saliva pooled in her mouth and dribbled out her lips.

At least, she had the strength to sit up and scoot across the rough floor to the cot. Painfully, she got herself on the bed and curled up, shackled and crying. Her middle went on hurting for a long time and she was sure she’d suffered internal injuries. Her ass ached from a deep bruise.

Over the course of midday and the early afternoon, she lay undisturbed. Gradually the ache in her middle faded and her fears of serious damage receded. But the horror of her situation cut through her thoughts like a terrible nightmare. The swift violence of the assault showed her how vulnerable and defenseless she was here. Her body was at the mercy of sadistic guards who could hurt her whenever they wanted, just as the intake monsters had raped her at will. Nothing prevented her from being beaten or raped at any time! Looming over it all, was the threat of being sentenced to death! Even a horribly suffering death. Jeffrey just had to get her acquitted!

Eventually the two guards returned. They ordered her to stand in the center of the cell. Still very sore, she managed to get off the bed and shuffle to the spot. They unfastened the chains and replaced them with the simple wrist cuffs in front. A slightly larger tray of food for dinner was set on the bed and she was left alone. Even with stomach pains, the long fast since only a small breakfast had Barb famished and she soon finished the meal.

A little later the two guards entered. The one whom she had called an idiot, Harry, asked, “Still think I’m an idiot, bitch?”

“No, sir,” she replied softly, terrified of another attack.

“Then show some respect. My shoes have gotten dirty working with the scum here today. Get down and lick them clean.”

Barb just stood and stared at him open-mouthed for a moment not believing he could be serious. He brought his face close to hers and grinned menacingly, “Do it, bitch, unless you want my baton up your ass!”

Shivering, Barbara sank to her knees and bent down to his dirty shoes. Tentatively, she extended her tongue to lick the black leather. Immediately, the gritty, sour taste and feel repulsed her. As she raised her head to protest, the guard pulled up her loose shift and tapped his thick baton on her asscrack. “Lick Now!”

Oh my God! He meant it! He’ll sodomize me with that! Somehow, she stuck out her tongue and proceeded to run it over the filthy surface. It seemed to take forever as she fought the gag reflex.

For about fifteen minutes, the guards joked with each other about what they wanted to do with her and her body. Hearing the frightening and disgusting threats, she struggled to please. Finally, he pronounced her efforts acceptable. The guards exited with the tray and she was left to her own thoughts.

Barbara huddled up on the cot, arms tight around her legs, sobbing. She had never imagined that anyone could be so humiliated and degraded.


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