Kyle Rittenhouse, the crybaby killer, was driven to the fatal demonstration (from another state) by his mother. I wonder what it was like as they got into the car.
"Kyle, did you forget your illegally acquired long gun again?"
"No, Ma. It's on the backseat."
"Is it loaded for once? Kyle, don't start the blubbering. You're seventeen, for Christ's sake. Use the Kleenex in the glove compartment. You know, this is exactly why I divorced your father."
"Sorry, Ma."
"You didn't bring your skateboard? Never take a skateboard to a gunfight, Kyle."
"I know that. Really?"
"When you finish, go straight to your father's. He's expecting you. Don't be late. Text me the final score. And be a gentleman. I didn't raise you to kill any girls."
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