I second that motion. Maybe if we amuse his tiny little mind enough, with it being so unable to comprehend even basic concepts such as the difference between hatred and indifferent contempt and disregard for his life, like one might harbour for a bloated, diseased tick, sucking blood from an anal polyp throbbing and festering as it (m)danglies from the anal sphincter of a scrawny little sewer rat before squashing it under foot; that he might forget to breathe and starve whatever vestigial overgrowth of his spinal column and autonomic nervous system controls It's body in lieu of a brain, and slowly choke to death on his own oversized tongue, at least, whenever he isn't too busy porking the dead, decaying carcass of his grandmother, sticking his pencil-cock up her semi-skeletal, rot-slathered nostrils.
I'd LIKE to be able to just blow it off as the result of his being mentally deficient, only I don't, because I actually have a lot of respect for, and in some cases in the past, love with some people with genuine MR.
