86 MAXX WOLF: TO ALL THE SCUMBAGS OUT THERE, YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. WHAT EXACTLY ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT THIS? NOTHING

Written by Maxx Wolf

Published: July 31, 2026

AND NO JUSTICE FOR ALL

My name is Maxx Wolf. That is my pen name.

“For this grand finale, I have assembled a selection of my favorite videos featuring each of you.

The videos do not necessarily correspond to the specific allegations discussed here; however, each was chosen as a satirical highlight from the much larger record you helped create.

Consider it a retrospective—and enjoy the show.”

First and foremost, let the record be perfectly fucking clear: I am of sound mind and clear judgment.

I am not suicidal, and I have no plan, intention, or desire to harm myself, hang myself, take my own life, or harm anyone else—now or at any time.

Unless somebody decides to 86 me, I plan on living life, writing, and publishing.

And it’s not going to be pretty.

Until then, I will continue documenting what happened, naming the people responsible, and this never stops and I will never go away.

That is not a threat, an invitation, or even a prediction. It is a declaration that voluntary silence is not part of my plans. If I suddenly stop speaking, it will not be because I ran out of words.

You thought you could shut me up. You thought prison camp and throwing me in the SHU would break the wolf. You thought you could write the government’s version, lock the door, and expect the world to accept it without question.

Dream on, Bitches!

I told you all I would be writing about what happened. This really shouldn't be a surprise. I told you after prison that would only be the beginning. You took 4 years from me. What you did not take was my voice. That was your mistake. You apparently misunderstood the kind of wolf you were dealing with.

I do not stop. I do not back down. I do not surrender my memory because it makes government employees uncomfortable. UNDERSTAND THAT.

SO WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT?

Arrest me for publishing? Go ahead.

I dare you to arrest me for exercising my First Amendment right to criticize the fucking corrupt government, examine public officials, discuss court proceedings, compare documents, publish satire, and tell my story.

I DOUBLE DARE YOU

I do not threaten anyone. I do not harm anyone. But I will keep writing.

That is the part you all will keep on hating.

UNFORTUNATELY FOR ALL U SCUMBAGS, WE LIVE IN THE AGE OF THE PERMANENT RECORD

This is 2026. There is nowhere left to hide behind a badge, robe, title, uniform, government office, or prison wall. A ten-year-old with a cell phone can type a name into Google and uncover a history that government letterhead can no longer conceal.

So get used to it.

When people search your names, they will find my stories. They will find the documents, the satire, the questions, the contradictions, and all fun videos, with my account of what happened.

Today there may be a Google result. Tomorrow there will be more videos, articles, documentary records, and an expanding Evidence Room, coming soon.

Radio is coming. Books are coming. A movie is coming. Eventually, properly sourced public archives—and perhaps Wikipedia—may preserve what happened long after every participant is gone.

You believed the government would own the narrative forever. It does not. You cannot arrest an opinion. You cannot handcuff an archive. You cannot intimidate a search engine.

OOPS!

TO THE BENCH

Judge Edward Milton Chen: In my opinion, you're the monster in the black robe, and your handling of my case was racially indefensible. You were appointed by a Black president, yet over a thousand Black lives simply did not matter in your San Francisco courtroom. You handed down a nine-year sentence, though I ultimately only served four years—much to your dismay and that of others.

C'est la vie!

That is considerably less time, by more than half. I actually felt cheated; I really thought I was going to do 6-7 years. Oh well.

If you truly believed your actions were warranted, you should have had the conviction to impose eighteen years openly and own your decision. Too fucking late Eddie.

A robe does not place anyone beyond criticism. History does not recognize judicial immunity from public judgment. Someday you will be judged by God, and you can explain to Him about all the families you destroyed because you don't read anything, leaving your clerks to give you the highlights while you listen to corrupt AUSAs and FBI agents who have no business being in the FBI since they can't even identify the right person on a video.

You are part of the corrupt U.S. government, and I guess it's to be expected.

TO THE FEDERAL BUREAU OF IDIOTS

Special Idiot Agent Joel Seaton: My favorite agent in the Federal Bureau of Idiots. The interviews, the reports, the decisions, and the role you played in my prosecution are now part of the story.

Even the "Peeping Joel" part—the world now knows about your peeping, and you can't hide from that anymore, Joel. Every document I possess will be examined, compared, discussed, and preserved.

If that embarrasses you, answer the record, dumbass.

By the way, nice Google page.

TO THE RAT AND HIS 302s

Brian Cooper Dill, FBI Rat: The statements attributed to you in your three FBI Form 302s did more talking than any rat costume I could ever draw. You had the nerve to drag my wife LuLu into your lies, putting false accusations about her into federal paperwork.

Well, turnabout is fair play, and since your Russian whore wife is part of the story and my history, your name isn't the only one now permanently plastered across Google. I will continue comparing your statements with the documents, contradictions, and receipts.

You spoke to the government; I speak to the public. The rat spilled the beans, and now the whole world can see exactly who you are. And to think—after all these years of trying so desperately to keep your name scrubbed clean from the internet, look where you ended up.

Good luck with Google to both of you.

TO THE PROSECUTION

Ex-AUSA Mohit Gourisaria, aka "The Mohat": I will continue examining and criticizing your conduct, your words, your filings, and the decisions made in my prosecution. Calling criticism of you 'harassment' does not make the questions disappear. Government employment is not an invisibility cloak.

When my attorney repeatedly rejected your plea agreements and put you on notice that we were taking this to trial—armed with a private investigator's proof exposing dozens of blatant lies in your star witness's 302s—you panicked.

Like a coward who couldn't win fair, you flew to Los Angeles on your own dime to corner the rat, terrified that your case was collapsing. You squeezed him, threatened him with twenty years, and forced him to double down on falsehoods just to save your skin—even trying to drag my innocent wife into your fabricated charges.

Your corruption is a matter of public record, and since leaving office, your life has steadily unraveled, bouncing from one low-level gig to the next like an absolute loser. The whole world is going to know exactly who you are and what you did. We are just getting started, and the spotlight is only going to get hotter.

Good luck with Google. Changes are coming.

TO THE PRISON MACHINE OF FLORENCE COLORADO

Warden Christian Lepe:

Kayla Heather Doberstein and Ex-Captain James Argir:

Erika Shields:

SIS personnel Sims and Fierro: 

Here are the Scumbags from the prison in Florence, Colorado.

Your government positions do not shield your conduct from public scrutiny—unfortunately for you.

If your conduct entered my story, your names entered the published record.

I will distinguish between what I witnessed, what I experienced, what the documents show, and what those facts mean.

You are all cut from the same institutional rot.

Christian Lepe: days before I left Florence, I told you in writing exactly what I intended to do with this website. You knew this record was coming. None of this should surprise you.

Kayla Heather Doberstein and Ex-Captain James Argir: The documented questions surrounding your conduct and professional advancement will be addressed using authenticated evidence that will be published.

The public can examine the records and reach its own conclusions about the realities behind your career progression, professional favors, and conduct—including the documented circumstances involving a captain who was subsequently demoted to Lt. due to fellatio.

The evidence will be published, all the BOP paperwork will back everything that has been stated, and the public can judge for itself.

Erika Shields: I testify that your conduct implicated PREA. Two witnesses, two sworn affidavits, and completed BOP paperwork support my account. Those materials are being authenticated and prepared for release in the Evidence Room. Coming soon.

Sims and Fierro: you said you would be watching. Good. Keep watching the videos—and enjoy them.

I never go away, and this never stops. Story after story. Video after video. Your actions will remain on full display for the world to examine.

You cannot hide behind the prison gates at Florence, Colorado.

What are you going to do about it, pussies?

The world is going to learn what happened inside those walls, and this is still only the beginning.

Enjoy Google, scumbags.

TO THE PRISON MACHINE OF SAFFORD, ARIZONA

Dr. Justin Scott Phelps: Death does not convert conduct into virtue, and I will not rewrite my opinion merely because you are no longer alive. I am not required to manufacture grief or pretend that death transformed you into a saint. The record survives everyone.

Frankly, I am glad you're dead, you fat fuck. If I ever drive through Arizona, which I would never do,

I would stop by to dance on your grave—and then piss on it, only out of respect.

You were a Fucking monster. You deserved to go straight to hell, and I hope you're burning in it every fucking day. For years, people had to put up with your petty bullshit and your cowardly retaliation until I came along, and you found out real quick what happens when someone refuses to bow.

You tried to steal my year away. You tried to fuck with my release. Every single time you pulled your power trips during those last two weeks before I walked out, you threatened, "We'll see. You're not leaving on my year." And what did I tell you and your miserable colleagues right to your faces every single time I shut the door in your face?

“I’m still leaving April 2nd, motherfucker.”

And I sure as fuck did. You and your pathetic tough-guy act couldn't do a damn thing to stop me.

You tried everything you had, but you never met anyone like me—someone who fights back, looks you in the eye, and says, "Do your worst, and I’ll do mine."

Here I am doing mine. Enjoy Google from hell, motherfucker.

TO THE PRISON MACHINE OF SAFFORD, ARIZONA

Reina Esperanza Chavez Chastain: Safford's wicked witch, the Grinch—take your pick. Unfortunately for you, silence is not something you are entitled to demand from me.

Reina, you are a miserable Bitch, a rotten-to-the-core DTS of RDAP with a black soul, radiating the bitter misery of someone who hates her life and everyone around her every single day she stands in front of a classroom.

You thought you could play God with me, but I am not one of the young boys you like to corrupt. When I refused to bow and actually talked back to you, your fragile ego shattered. Like a pathetic puppy dog, you ran crying to fat Justin Scott Phelps to weaponize your institutional power and try to steal my year away.

I know you really thought you were the qualified one to take Tyler Terry's place; instead, you got the fuzzy end of the lollipop. Much to your absolute dismay, I am sure—because at your core, you are just a small-town loser from Safford, and nothing good can ever come to you.

You will stay trapped right there in your pathetic insignificance until the miserable end of your days.

I am sure you're enjoying your Google page.

TO THE PRISON MACHINE OF SAFFORD, ARIZONA

Cassandra Luzania: You are the Safford town whore and right there in the gutter of complicity alongside her Tia Reina. You thought you could hide behind prison walls, fake titles, and thousands of miles of desert, but you were wrong.

The records are public, the exposure is permanent, and you cannot outrun what you did.

You are a rotten-to-the-core whore. (That certainly rhymes) Everyone in that facility knew your reputation, and you brought a whole new level of trash to the post. Was there anyone you hadn't fucked? When an officer sent you a message about wanting to suck the milk out of your pregnant breasts, what did you do? You proudly plastered that shit on your wall for everyone to see.

Classy. You are just a miserable loser. No matter how much surgery COs buy you, you're always going to be an ugly fat-ass whore.

We all know you get off on playing voyeur, sitting there listening in on people's private phone calls. Once upon a time, you actually got your feelings hurt and took offense when you heard me talking about some other fat loser CO on the line.

Well, how's that for sensitivity? Are you offended by the entity? Now that you read my every word, and watch the truths that I have stirred be published to the world so wide. With nowhere left for you to hide. What are you doing? Tell me true, LUZ & SLEEZY?

That is the question facing you. So go on, take a look and gaze,

And go enjoy your Google page

THE FBI WELCOME MAT

Joel Seaton: I know you're reading this, peeping Joel. And I know the Bureau loves to knock on doors to flex their authority.

So I dare you to come.

If you decide to show up at my house to ask about my "intentions," let me tell you exactly the welcome you will receive.

My property is entirely wired. You will be on camera the second your shoes touch my concrete.

When you knock, I will open the door, and my phone’s camera will record the entire encounter—including your faces. The camera will remain pointed at you, and I will not turn it off or put it away.

I will ask if you have a warrant. When you say no, I will ask to what I owe this lovely pleasure.

I will remind you that my intentions are already published online for the whole world to see.

And that I am not stopping anytime soon.

I will tell you to smile for the camera and to speak into the microphone, Bitch, because you are going to be TikTok famous tomorrow. And then, I will tell you to get the fuck off my property, and I will slam the door in your faces.

No debate. No interrogation. Just a closed door and a viral video.

So bark up another fucking tree, Dumbass. You and the Federal Bureau of Idiots.

MAXX WOLF: WHAT HAPPENS NEXT

Maxx Wolf is now going on a three-week publishing hiatus. There will be no new posts during that period. I will use that time to locate and organize the FBI Form 302 reports, court records, correspondence, prison documents, photographs, and the thousands of letters and book notes I've made during my stay, as a lot of you know, along with the other materials intended for the Evidence Room.

When I return, I will return with records and a lot more stories. Not threats. Not private confrontation. Publication. Speech. Satire. Evidence and memory.

So enjoy the silence for the next three weeks, scumbags. This is only an intermission.

You tried to reduce me to a case number. Instead, I became the person recording yours.

So here is the answer to the question I know you've all been asking:

What are you going to do about it? You may answer with facts. You may produce records. You may explain yourselves publicly.

What you cannot do is make me forget, make Google forget, or purchase my silence with fear.

And No Justice 4 All will continue growing. Eventually, researchers and editors will help examine the documents, verify the chronology, and publish matters of legitimate public concern.

I will be posting the videos and the evidence across social media for the entire world to see. Until I draw my final breath, I will keep writing.

The reason I publicly criticize these individuals, in case people were interested, is simple: I have zero respect for them. They are the absolute scum of the earth; they have gotten away with abusing their power for years, and they need to be publicly exposed and held accountable.

It stops now—and unfortunately for them, it stops with the Wolf. The buck stops here, scumbags.

THE INVESTIGATIVE WAR ROOM

And No Justice 4 All will establish an investigative war room staffed by a dozen relentless researchers, writers, and editors working the phones to request records, arrange voluntary interviews, confirm facts, audit careers, examine public documents, and investigate government conduct.

Their mission will be lawful and straightforward: research, verification, documentation, reporting, and publication of the absolute truth about every single one of you scumbags.

No threats. No physical confrontations. No calls intended to intimidate or harass anyone.

Full fucking staff. Full fucking record.

Maxx Wolf doesn’t threaten. Maxx Wolf publishes.

And Maxx Wolf is still saying what he wants.

There is not a fucking thing anyone can lawfully do to stop lawful publication, public records, satire, commentary, and the First Amendment with teeth.

Get used to it.

Maxx Wolf has one job now.

Every day.

Build the website.

Finish the books.

Turn the stories into movies.

Keep publishing.

Keep documenting.

Keep the record alive until every name, every lie, every abuse of power, and every dirty little institutional game has nowhere left to hide.

You wanted silence.

You got Maxx Wolf.

This is the middle finger to all the corrupt government minions, and the FBI rat Brian Cooper Dill and all FBI officials who thought silence was permanent.

Accountability lives at AND NO FUCKING JUSTICE 4 ALL.

MAXX WOLF RATTLES THE CAGES

FUCK THE FEDS

FUCK ALL THE SCUMBAGS

FUCK BRIAN COOPER DILL FBI RAT

FUCK JOEL SEATON FBI

Editor’s Note:

The title “86 ME” and every reference to “86” are used rhetorically to mean Maxx Wolf being permanently silenced. They do not express or invite violence, nor do they allege that any named person intends violence. Maxx Wolf states unequivocally that he is of sound and clear mind, is not suicidal, and has no intention of harming himself or anyone else.

This article is personal narrative, editorial commentary, opinion, and satire concerning Maxx Wolf’s federal prosecution and incarceration. It draws from Maxx Wolf’s recollection, court proceedings, legal filings, plea and sentencing materials, FBI FD-302 reports, and other records in his possession. Any allegations or characterizations concerning named individuals reflect Maxx Wolf’s account, recollection, interpretation of the available records, and opinions. They should not be understood as independent findings by a court unless expressly identified and supported as such.

Nothing in this article encourages threats, harassment, doxxing, physical contact, or unlawful action against anyone named. Readers should not contact or target any individual discussed here.

— Maxx Wolf

THIS NEVER STOPS.

THE RECORD DOES NOT DISAPPEAR.

AND NO JUSTICE FOR ALL.