Tim Walls just got hit with an egg. The Minecraft dude. [laughter] The cops reaction.
The tampon king gets back in the ring. I speak of former VP nominee Tim Waltz. He joined Bato or at a Texas town hall last night and the estrogen levels were enough to give Chuck Norris menstrual cramps.
Weird at all. He's [music] a creep. Yeah, there's a difference between being weird and creepy.
And you can be weird all day long. Everyone wants to say, "Hey, it even sounds good. Hey, let's get weird this weekend.
" So, hey, let's get creepy this weekend. [laughter] You don't get the same. Oh, no.
Cheer. Don't even think about scrolling past this because what Gutfeld and Tyrus just served up to Tim Walls qualifies as a public emergency. The jokes hit so hard the audience genuinely didn't know whether to keep laughing or quietly call for help.
And the moment Waltz thought the worst was behind him, a whole new wave arrived. You need to hear how this unfolded because it gets absolutely unreal. How they operate one way when they're running and then when they lose and get humiliated all of a sudden they have these solutions and they're all the things they're telling you to do.
Like why are you why are you trying to trash one of the most successful companies in the world? You Well certainly I take responsibility for putting people in jail. Governors don't get to uh just talk theoretically.
We have to solve problems. And I will note it's not just Somali. Minnesota is a generous state.
Minnesota is a prosperous state. A well-run state where AAA bond rated. How many balls is he hiding in his cheeks?
That's the first question I want to know. [laughter] Uh, and I don't love the way he says fierce. Yeah, [laughter] we've got to be fierce.
We fiercely have to go up to President Trump. Gutfeld didn't waste a single second. The moment Waltz's latest policy idea surfaced, Gutfeld was already on it.
The way a cat discovers something balanced on a shelf and makes an instant irreversible decision about its future. Waltz showed up to this fight armed with good intentions and zero reinforcements. Gutfeld showed up having already written the eulogy.
Wonder is our strength our diversity? Our strength is our diversity. We've been talking about this for years as a country of immigrants and we let them define the issue on immigration.
We let them define the issue on DNI DEI and we let them define what woke is. We got ourselves in this mess because we weren't bold enough to stand up and say you're damn right we're proud of these policies. We're going to put them in and we're going to execute them.
So, uh, wait, you lost cuz you weren't woke up. If this is hitting right, smash that like button and subscribe. It genuinely helps more than you'd expect.
Then Tyrus walked in and immediately made clear that restraint belonged to somebody else entirely. The way he saw it, Walls's track record looked like the output of someone who studied a leadership guide from back to front. Completely convinced they had the right direction.
The jabs didn't ease in. They arrived like freight trains that skipped every scheduled maintenance stop. Every time walls dropped the word leadership into a sentence, Tyrus received it the same way.
It was the punchline to a joke the entire world had already been laughing at for months. Me the most is the stuff that we're like the fake valor is bad enough. But when you have fake butter churning sculpting valor, where do you go from there?
Turns out he never did that. He did. He was just buy it in like an Iowa thing.
So there's I got people from the Midwest because I've actually been there. Yeah. Uh, I went to school there and I got people going, "This dude ain't legit butter.
He's not legit butter. " So, he's not really a butter carver. There's no evidence.
I can Every time Wall stepped forward to explain one of his calls, Gutfeld responded with the expression of someone watching a toddler attempt chainsaw juggling. Not alarmed exactly, just deeply aware of how this ends. This wasn't ordinary bad decision-making on display.
This was a full cinematic catastrophe running in real time. The sarcasm had no off switch, no mercy, no soft landings, no diplomatic pauses built in anywhere. The second something left Waltz's mouth.
Gutfeld had already converted it into usable material. Somewhere out there, the governor's dignity was quietly accepting flower arrangements. But even Kla's not that clueless, and that's saying something.
Waltz also seemed to doubt the validity of the last election and future ones. They've released analyses of election data out of Clark County, Nevada that show some pretty convincing evidence of um election tampering. So, what can we do to make sure a that the midterms actually happen and b that they're free of fraud?
Yeah, th this one's a court. We saw just recently Donald Trump's executive order to make it more difficult, specifically to women, trying to make it more difficult for women to be able to vote. The moment Walls tried repositioning himself as the strategic one in the room, Tyrus responded with the slow head movement of someone who just watched a person attempt long division by licking a wall.
This wasn't precise surgical mockery. This was full-scale comedic demolition with heavy equipment. When Tyrus cycled back, the energy in the room thickened noticeably.
He watched Walls's decision process the way an executive chef watches someone dump ketchup onto creme brulee and then take a small bow. The more Walls elaborated on his vision, the more Tyrus resembled someone quietly calculating the nearest available exit. He didn't just highlight the mistakes.
He cataloged them like a man who had built an entire hobby around the subject. Progress in Tyrus's retelling had been fully replaced by an elaborate production where confusion held the lead role and logic was somewhere offstage demanding to speak with management. The audience barely needed to react.
The material was generating its own energy. But the creepiest thing that he said besides all that, a teacher. The worst thing for a teacher to do is watch a bully.
What? So, you're a teacher in the playground and you're just watching the bully. [laughter] You're the creep.
Yeah. Yeah. A teacher snatches the bully's ass up.
Gutfeld came back like someone returning from the concession stand to find the show had somehow escalated while they were gone. He didn't approach Wallace's logic as something to simply counter. He examined it the way someone examines a fossil, something preserved, something that raises questions just by existing.
Every policy that surfaced sounded like it had been drafted during an extended pacing session where the author was genuinely debating which direction was up. Every moment VS reached for authority on camera. Gutfeld described a man gripping a detailed map to a place that doesn't exist.
Completely convinced it was live navigation. Even the facial expressions got recruited, reframed as committed attempts at gravitas that arrived somewhere in the vicinity of a traffic cone trying to redirect an interstate. Then things sharpened further.
Wald's speeches became motivational posters authored by someone who lost the thread around the opening sentence. Every rally got re-imagined as a man pushing a vehicle uphill on nothing but self-belief and creative math. His political instincts got compared to park Wi-Fi.
Unreliable by design, occasionally detectable, guaranteed to vanish at the single worst possible moment. The takedown had stopped being about specific moments. Even the silence between moments had become fair game.
Walt says Democrats hate success. We as Democrats, we want people to pay their fair share. But why are we against people being successful like that?
We We can't be. [music] Why are we against We should talk about businesses. Not all businesses exploit their workers, and we get ourselves stuck in that.
Oh, well, I think we lose them. M get a room. Oh, wait.
Tyrus followed with the energy of someone who just swept the entire board and still had moves remaining. Walls's approach to crisis management in his framing looked like someone firing a text to tech support to troubleshoot a toaster. Every response to a problem got packaged as structured chaos wearing a leadership costume.
Press conference preparation became a cramming session for an exam that nobody mentioned until 19 minutes before it started. The metaphors kept sharpening. The references kept stacking until it became genuinely unclear whether Walls was governing a state or accidentally headlining a series the network kept renewing out of pure bewilderment.
Gutfeld circled back with the temperature fully elevated. Waltz's priority list got handled like a shopping checklist assembled during a serious caffeine deficit. The distance between the announced vision and the documented reality became a recurring image.
The gap between the couch and the moon attempted using optimism and creative ankle physics. Even the confidence became material. Gutfeld framed him as a man fully persuaded of his architectural abilities because he once watched a short online video involving bricks.
The laughter kept compounding because the imagery kept escalating. And Waltz kept supplying fresh material on a completely reliable schedule. I bully him back.
He was not He's not a teacher. He's not a politician. He's a creepy guy who can't remember his speeches.
I don't know what the hell was in the water in that White House. Or was everyone on the same bad cocaine? But Kamla can't speak.
He can't speak. Biden was so high he couldn't remember anything. Like this is literally the dumbest administration of all time.
Why is he talking? It really is the ultimate clown show. And I said this in the five.
He's a clown without a Gutfeld re-entered like someone cutting across lanes in a demolition derby. Fully committed. Zero hesitation.
He took apart Wals's public explanations like unsolvable puzzles built by someone who treated punctuation as an optional creative flourish. Every reach for authority got reframed as a dress rehearsal for a production that never found an audience. Walt's internal logic became a roller coaster operating without tracks.
Powered entirely by atmosphere and a quiet hope that the laws of physics might eventually show some flexibility. By this point, the room didn't even require traditional setup and payoff. The imagery alone was handling everything.
Tyrus stepped back in with the composure of someone narrating something they've personally witnessed far too many times to register surprise. Walls's public choices got mapped like someone consulting a compass for emotional guidance. Each decision producing a more genuinely baffling result than the one before.
The policies, according to Tyrus, weren't simply falling short of their targets. They appeared to be actively aiming at the floor, as if the concept of success had personally wronged them. No elevated volume, no performance, just the quiet, steady, wideeyed disbelief of watching someone pour cereal with absolute confidence before discovering the milk situation.
The mockery didn't need to be loud. It had something far more effective working for it. Total accuracy.
So, if you ever want to know what the Dems are up to, just listen to what they accuse you of doing. Take the word weird. It was first uttered by a guy named Tim Walsh, directed at another guy called JD Vance.
But turns out, as usual, it's a preemptive projection. For the Dems always call you on stuff that they're about to do or have already done. They accuse you of election interference before they do it.
They accuse you of racism before they do it. They accuse you of censorship right before they try to shut. Tyrus wasn't remotely close to finished.
The train had several more scheduled stops. His breakdown of Walls's budget strategy arrived with the energy of someone describing a financial system built around scratch-off tickets and framed motivational typography. Every spending decision unfolded as a slow motion sequence.
Walds cast as the lead who absorbed roughly half the available script before deciding he had the general concept. The commentary built into something fully theatrical. A scene where each attempted solution involved carefully placing additional problems directly on top of existing ones, arranged as though this were an intentional aesthetic.
If workable outcomes were a light source, the room would have been nearly dark. One small flickering bulb in the corner, maintaining a remarkably optimistic attitude about the whole situation, Gutfeld returned with precision. Walt's environmental positioning got compared to a recipe collection that confused its purpose with literature, producing guidance nobody could interpret and results nobody had requested.
The performance architecture behind the speeches got roasted as motivational content written by someone who misplaced the actual motivation somewhere before the first paragraph concluded. The whole sequence felt less like political analysis and more like a festival. With Wals's self assurance serving as the mainstage act, Tyrus stepped back in without releasing a single beat.
He walked through Walls's leadership approach the way a nature documentary narrator covers footage of something genuinely inexplicable, inventive in concept, breathtakingly purposeless in practice. Every call back landed as its own standalone punchline. Governance resembling Jenga architecture.
Public addresses performing like karaoke missing the backing track. Decision patterns so consistently unpredictable they practically qualified as their own field of study. Listen, I feel bad for Elon.
Mhm. I would be furious if I was him. Mhm.
If you're This is who you sent to troll me. Yeah. [laughter] Like, what am I doing wrong to get the guy from D team to come out team at family theater and call me names?
Yeah. Like Tim, I would if they were like, "Oh, Tyrus, man. Woo.
Tough news cycle. Tim Walls is talking about you. " I'd be like, Gutfeld kept the engine running, pivoting directly to Walls's media presence.
He locked onto the gap between Walls's visible certainty and the surrounding reality. The equivalent of a magician enthusiastically exposing the mechanism before the trick has actually started. Every passionate Wald moment got reframed as an advertisement for a product still weeks away from a working prototype.
The timing was relentless. The joke concentration made any attempted reputational defense completely impossible. Then Tyrus moved in for what amounted to a methodical final act.
The image recovery campaign got described as someone patching a leaking roof with decorative tape and seasonal optimism. Every repair attempt made the retelling funnier than the last. The aftermath of Walls's choices, according to Tyrus, hadn't generated crisis, it had generated content.
Each new development landed like a cliffhanger for the next episode of a show nobody fully understood but kept returning to anyway. The closing stretch belonged to both of them equally. Gutfeld landed on the observation that walls, despite every visible effort to project composure and calculation, had developed a near supernatural ability to locate comedic territory and walk directly into it.
Tyrus delivered the identical conclusion through unhurried sarcasm, framing Walls's entire political arc as a self-renewing series. Unlimited production budget, zero coherent narrative, somehow still active production. The damage wasn't loud.
It wasn't personal. It was reputational. and the laughter that surrounded it became the permanent soundtrack.
What both of them established beyond any doubt, Waltz wasn't brought down by sharp opposition. He was comprehensively completely undone by the sheer entertainment value of his own choices. What a better way to show their opposition to successful people than making him VP.
Like he like he's the best example of failing up. Yeah. and and he he didn't even do good at failing up because he helped tank the ticket and she lost the race because it showed like Tim Walls is the best example for why Kla Harris has the worst political instincts in the Democrat party.
Gutfeld pressed further, treating Walls's latest attempt at positive coverage like a fireworks display launched directly into a downpour. The ambition was visible. The execution sputtered, fizzled, and produced smoke until the crowd quietly debated whether this had been the plan all along.
The whole thing got framed as an extended audition for the role of visionary. In a production that neglected to hire anyone responsible for the actual writing, every confident gesture filtered through Gutfeld's retelling came out looking like a man passionately hyping a navigation system stuck on a single repeating instruction, recalculating. The humor wasn't coming from insults.
It was coming from the spectacle of someone sprinting full speed toward the edge, completely persuaded that a solution would materialize somewhere during the descent. Then Tyrus returned with what felt like freshly charged reserves. Wald's public rehabilitation tour became a motivational workshop run by someone who arrived to find their prepared notes had been swapped with a grocery list.
The sweeping declarations and emotional peaks became delivered through Tyrus's signature calm oporatic melodrama from a soap opera now 15 seasons in with absolutely no intention of resolving its central conflict. Now Waltz is weird, but he disguises it under the costume of phony compassion, a fake politician who masks destructive ideas under the guise of empathy. At a 2017 town hall, he implied 10-year-old boys should be able to invade girls bathrooms because it's all about safety.
Quote, "As a teacher, my number one responsibility in the classroom is the safety, security, and belongingness of every single child in that room. These are children my son's age, a fourth grader, a 10-year-old. " Even the moments designed to land seriously collapsed into comedy.
Tyrus noting that Wallace had developed a remarkable capacity for pushing through extended uncomfortable silences with the unshakable determination of a motivational speaker who has decided the room's furniture simply needs more encouragement. The mockery never erupted. It settled, measured, unhurried, and somehow more damaging for the restraint.
Gutfeld pivoted to Walls's victory declarations following weeks of highly visible stumbles, delivering them with the energy reserved for someone bragging about nearly placing in a competition they were never registered for. The self- congratulation became the centerpiece. Waltz receiving lukewarm applause with the full internal experience of a Nobel ceremony.
Crossing an imaginary stage, waving graciously, having just successfully assembled a folding chair. The humor wasn't in the stretch of the image. It was in how little stretching was actually required.
Tyrus brought it home. Walking through Walls's complete arc as a continuous, self-sustaining loop of ambition, disorder, and unshakable optimism. Every new development felt like a plot twist in a series nobody consciously chose to follow, but somehow couldn't stop watching.
The final line arrived without drama, almost conversational, observing that the single most reliable thing about Wals's entire trajectory was the guarantee that tomorrow's headline would find a way to outdo whatever just happened today. The quiet that followed didn't feel like a conclusion.
