WATCH: Vance Hilariously Roasts CNN Interviewer on Live TV for Softball Interview with Harris and Walz, Says She Was Giving Them “Multiple Choice Answers”

Clashing with CNN’s Dana Bash during a contentious and live interview on CNN’s “State of the Union” program, Senator and 2024 Trump running mate JD Vance sounded off on the manner in which Bash had conducted her interview with Gov. Tim Walz and Vice President Kamala Harris. In fact, he funnily accused her of providing them with “multiple choice answers” during her interview, and of letting the vice president “coast.”

Vance’s comments came alongside his clashing with Bash generally, as the two sparred over claims made by him, former President Donald Trump, and others about Haitian migrants who have been brought into the United States by the Biden-Harris Administration, with Trump claiming during the ABC News debate that pets have been eaten. Officials from Ohio have said that the pet-eating claims are baseless.

At one point during the interview, for example, Sen. Vance spoke about what his constituents in Springfield, Ohio, one of the towns in question, have told him about Haitian migrants “eating the pets,” and when Bash tried to interrupt and correct him, Vance snapped, “Dana, would you like to ask me questions and then let me answer them or would you like to debate me on these topics?”

Then, roasting Bash over how she conducted the interview with Harris and Walz, Sen. Vance accused her of going easy on them with “multiple choice answers.” He said, “I noticed that when you have Kamala Harris and Tim Walz, you gave them multiple choice answers to the questions that you asked, and you allow them to answer the questions.”Continuing, Sen. Vance said that he would talk about what policies he supports and what he sees as being important, but that he finds it tiresome and pointless to be continually interrupted. He snapped, “I‘m happy to be here to talk about policy, but if you’re going to interrupt me every single time that I open my mouth, then why am I even doing this?”

Bash tried to rebut his claims, saying that she would respond in the same way to Walz and Kamala. She said, “I think that if Kamala Harris and Tim Walz were making unsubstantiated claims that had racist undertones about people eating dogs and cats, I would, and they didn‘t answer the questions about that, then I would have similar interactions with them.”She then claimed that people are “worried about these claims,” saying, “As you know, I am very grateful that you come on the show, as I am for other Republicans. But this is something that you’re hearing from constituents. I did a lot of reporting. I’ve talked to people in Ohio over the weekend, and they’re really worried about these claims.”

Bash then said that there are “legitimate” concerns about the migrants that she is happy to discuss: “The policies, yes, I am agreeing with you, that what I heard is that there is concern that these migrants, there’s a lot of them and the integration isn‘t being done fast enough and well enough, and that’s a totally legitimate conversation.”

I Met a Fortuneteller After My Wifes Funeral, The Next Day, Her Prediction Came True

The funeral was unbearable. Our daughters, Sophie and Emma, only four and five years old, kept asking, “Where’s Mommy?” I had no idea how to answer. How could I explain something I didn’t understand myself? Thankfully, Elizabeth’s parents and sister were there to help handle the arrangements.

After the service, as I walked to my car in a daze, I felt someone watching me. At first, I thought it was just my grief playing tricks on me, but then I saw her—an old woman standing near the cemetery gates.

She looked ancient, her face etched with deep lines, her sharp eyes piercing through me as if she could see straight into my soul.

“Excuse me,” she called softly.

I hesitated but didn’t respond. I was too drained for conversation, especially with a stranger.

“I know your fate,” she said, her voice serious.

I frowned. “What?”

“Cross my palm with silver, and I’ll reveal the joy and sorrow that lie ahead,” she continued, holding out her hand.

I stared at her, bewildered. A fortune-teller? At a funeral? I shook my head, muttering, “I’m not interested,” and started to walk away.

But her next words stopped me cold. “Elizabeth won’t rest until justice is served.”

I turned back sharply. “What did you say?”

“Twenty dollars,” she said, beckoning with her bony fingers. “That’s all.”

Under normal circumstances, I would’ve dismissed her. But in my grief-stricken state, I was numb to everything. Twenty dollars seemed insignificant in the grand scheme of things. I handed her the crumpled bill.

Her hand felt icy as she grabbed mine, her grip surprisingly firm. She didn’t take her eyes off me, and for a moment, I felt exposed, as though she could see all the pain I was carrying.

“Today, you’ve lost someone dear,” she whispered.

“Yeah, no kidding,” I said bitterly. “We’re at a cemetery.”

She didn’t flinch. “Your wife’s death was no accident.”

A chill ran down my spine. “What are you talking about?”

“There’s more to her death than you know. Tomorrow, the truth will begin to reveal itself.”

I felt my mouth go dry. “What truth?”

She smiled slowly, an unsettling grin. “By this time tomorrow, you’ll see.”

Before I could ask anything else, she turned and disappeared into the mist, vanishing as if she had never been there. I stood frozen, torn between disbelief and a strange sense of foreboding.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Elizabeth—her smile, her laugh, the way she kissed our daughters goodnight. But the fortuneteller’s cryptic words haunted me: “Your wife’s death was no accident.” Was there any truth to it? Could the crash have been something more sinister?

Unable to rest, I got up and sifted through Elizabeth’s things, desperate to feel close to her. Among her belongings, I found something odd—receipts from a car rental service. We had two cars. Why would she need a rental?

I stared at the receipts, my heart racing. The fortuneteller’s words echoed in my mind. “There’s more to her death than you know.”

The next morning, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. I called Elizabeth’s best friend, Sarah, who worked at the garage where our cars were serviced. Maybe she could help me make sense of it all.

“Hey, Sarah,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Did Elizabeth mention anything to you about renting a car?”

There was a brief pause before she answered. “Actually, yes. She rented a car when both of your cars were in the shop. It was for a surprise trip to the beach, but she returned it the day before… well, you know.”

“But why didn’t she tell me?” I muttered to myself.

“She wanted it to be a surprise,” Sarah replied. “She even asked her sister Karen to return the car for her after the trip.”

A wave of unease washed over me. Karen? Why would she return the car, and why hadn’t I known about it?

Determined to get answers, I drove to the rental company. When I explained the situation, the manager pulled up the records. “The car was returned without visible damage. We accepted it as normal, but… something seems off. Only a few miles were added to the odometer.”

I left the office with more questions than answers. Why had Karen returned the car? What was she hiding? I decided to contact the police, as the suspicion that Elizabeth’s death wasn’t an accident gnawed at me.

I explained everything to the detective—the car rental, the fortuneteller, my growing doubts. He listened carefully and assured me they’d investigate. “Initially, we ruled it a tragic accident caused by brake failure,” he said. “But now, with what you’ve shared, we’ll take a closer look.”

The days that followed were a blur. Then, the police found something shocking—evidence that someone had tampered with the brakes. My stomach churned as the horrifying truth began to surface.

It wasn’t long before the investigation revealed even more. Karen had taken out a life insurance policy on Elizabeth just months before the accident. She had forged Elizabeth’s signature and made herself the sole beneficiary.

I was sickened. Elizabeth’s death hadn’t been an accident—it was murder. And the person behind it was her own sister.

When Karen was arrested, I couldn’t even look at her. The woman who had comforted me in my grief had been the one to cause it all, driven by greed.

During interrogation, she confessed to tampering with the car’s brakes, hoping to collect the insurance money. The betrayal was devastating.

Karen was sentenced to life in prison. It didn’t bring Elizabeth back, but at least I knew she would never harm anyone again. The fortuneteller had been right—Elizabeth couldn’t rest until justice was served.

A few weeks later, I returned to the cemetery. As I stood by Elizabeth’s grave, I whispered, “You can rest now.”

Just as I was about to leave, a butterfly landed on her headstone. I knew it was Elizabeth, finally at peace.

Though I never saw the fortuneteller again, her words had led me to the truth. As painful as it was, that truth was worth every penny of the twenty dollars I had given her.

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