Joy Behar calls her a 10. I mean, how dare she objectify a woman with a sexist rating system, but it's such a typical thing from a 1. 5.
[laughter] Well said. The motives stink worse than Joy Behar's jog bra. I mean, assuming she jogs.
Oh, wait. There she is. [applause] She has a point.
Maybe I am obsessed, but some people are obsessed with Bigfoot and they don't get to see him on TV every afternoon. And if they did, could they tell the two apart? I don't know.
[laughter] Joy Bahar was completely dismantled by Greg Gutfeld and Tyrus, and there was no covering it up. The moment hit hard and fast. Raw emotion collided headon with razor-sharp humor in a tense on air clash.
Gutfeld took Joyy's confident smirk and flipped it into visible unraveling. Live, unscripted, and brutal to witness. Tyrus stayed ice cold, fired off short, surgical oneliners, and calmly watched the whole situation slip out of her control.
What happens next makes even the harshest roast battles look like polite pep talks that completely lost their edge. Now, step directly into the fallout. It's [clears throat] not even that.
And the view, you don't need to find Trumpers. You need to fire your race baiters. You need to fire the two races.
You've had people. You had a McCain on there. You've had people on there before and you ran them off.
So the racist ones who want to stick to this, Whoopi and Sunny and the was it B. Midler. What's What's her name?
The broke ass B. Midler. [laughter] Fire them and bring people in.
Maybe you could get McCain to come back. She was a Republican, but every show and every break, she was nearly in tears cuz she was being attacked. Joy Bahar has ruled the uneasy world of daytime television for so long it almost felt untouchable until suddenly it wasn't.
Then Greg Gutfeld and Tyrus stepped in. Not with chaos or theatrics, but with something far more damaging. Razered sarcasm, flawless timing, and a platform that refused to bend.
Within moments, the image of Joy Bahar as untouchable began to crumble faster than her strained attempts to sound relatable to anyone living outside a luxury bubble. This wasn't a minor slip or a harmless stumble. It was the first clear crack in the foundation of her authority.
And the look on her face impossible to forget. This week, Joy Behar accused Elon Musk of being proarid, but then begged him afterwards not to sue. Musk lawyers have yet to comment because they're still checking to see if it's legal to sue a cow.
[laughter] [cheering and applause] Shots fired. It's a legal question. I don't know why it's so upsetting.
[laughter] I don't make the rules in this country. If this breakdown is landing for you, hit that like button and subscribe because it only escalates from here. Now make no mistake, there was no shouting match, no explosive confrontation, no dramatic moment where Joy Bahar could try to dominate the room.
This wasn't a debate. It was a deliberate, calculated dismantling delivered on air with precision. Every move was planned.
Every remark landed cold and exact. And here's the twist that stunned viewers most. Greg Gutfeld and Tyrus didn't even need her present to make it devastating.
Her absence only sharpened the blow. This wasn't a single hit. It was a clean, methodical breakdown that left no escape, no recovery, and no way to spin the outcome.
Now to some news. The feral monsters of The View say they've never heard of You Know Who. True.
The show that makes mornings hell claim that my name doesn't ring a bell. It's time for our view on the view. Yeah, the witch's coven finally shows me some loving.
Yesterday on the view, yours truly was a subject of conversation. Apparently, the broads have no idea who I am, or so they say. Hit it, Glattus.
Greg Gutfeld, and whose entire style is built on shredding media absurdity at full speed, never even had to mention Joy Bahar by name. Instead, he painted a razor clean picture. self-important daytime personalities talking only to their own echo chamber swirling Chardonnay and pretending they understand the cost of everyday life.
If that image doesn't land squarely on Joyy's familiar territory, then basic reality might as well be optional. The satire cut deep, so precise you could almost hear it slicing straight through the polished persona she's spent years carefully guarding. Seth that Gutfeld talks about you all the time.
Who is he? [laughter] Well, really, who is he? I don't I don't watch the show.
He has a show heard of him. Yeah. I guess he's just obsessed with me.
[laughter] No, no, no. Next, Joyy's going to say she's never heard of carbs. [laughter] Seriously, her denial of knowing me is as believable as her red hair.
But obsession, I mean, come on, Joy. Where would you even get that idea? Like Joy Behar's face, it's looking worse and worse by the day.
or full of crap that Joy Behar after a night of scotch and Taco Bell. Her being named Joy is like me being named ugly. Joy wasn't there on the show.
Apparently, Mondays are her days off when she feeds in the pasture. It now smells like a humid day inside Joy Behar's mumu. Tyrus slid effortlessly into his role as the quiet closer.
No shouting, no exaggerated moves, just controlled, deliberate humor delivered with pinpoint accuracy. While Joy Bahar kept playing to an audience that reacted on Q, Tyrus didn't move an inch. That calm, unreadable stare said everything without landing a single direct hit.
Are we seriously still treating this as a credible voice? He never spoke her name, yet the target was unmistakable. This wasn't playful teasing.
It was comedy engineered with intention. Joy Bahar, once positioned as the confident symbol of certainty on a show that once carried real weight, had quietly become the punchline of a moment she never even appeared in. And somehow she still dominated the entire scene.
No, this is what elitist do. Like, if you don't know who someone is, how did you know to automatically hate him? Mhm.
Like, I mean, that's the that's how fake and full of she is. Gutfield never heard of him. Don't like him.
Why? Cuz [laughter] cuz why? That's why I just turned one of my kids.
Cuz why? Yeah. Cuz I don't know who he is.
Never heard of him at all in my entire life. But why? Cuz I don't know.
Because they are the last TV show to talk about high turnover. Mhm. We've been rolling three steady for a long time.
Yeah. We don't take breaks in the commercial to get away from each other. Well, that's what the drinking's for.
Yes. How and Oh, man. Uh she uh Megan McCain, how'd that go?
Yeah. Rosie O'Donald. any of these previous fellow employees cuz one of the things they said was that no one walks away from money, right?
So they got people running away from it over there. This is where Greg Gutfeld was at his sharpest. He didn't confront anything headon.
He simply laughed. No raised voices, no heated exchanges, just a calm, steady unraveling of the belief system Joy Bahar has clung to for years. A few perfectly timed smirks, a lifted eyebrow at exactly the right moment.
That was all it took. This wasn't a fight. It was comedy wielded like a wrecking ball.
Here's the twist. Joy still acts as if she's winning, like a captain proudly conducting music while the water quietly rises around the ship. Tyrus and Gutfeld didn't need grand gestures or dramatic swings.
Reality was already doing the heavy lifting. They simply made sure the collapse was caught on camera. So the the problem is is that you have to go after the racist people.
And if be the CEO goes, "You know what? I'm not going to allow a woman on my show or man that will go after white America and talk about them like dogs that doesn't represent our ideals or values for anyone and get rid of those people and this will clear up real quick. So, do you have to actually look in the mirror and clean up your own backyard and get the racist people out because that's who you allowed in?
You allowed black racist on TV who could just go all day and say anything about white people. And I guess they lo and behold they forgot that there's a lot of people at home, white people at home during the day that are not watching your show anymore. So just clean it up.
Yeah, you know, Emily Tyrus has never needed dramatic flare. His entire approach runs on posture, irony, and a deadpan delivery that lands before the joke even finishes forming. While Joy Bahar seems to require a spotlight, a buildup, and a full production just to make a point, Tyrus can lift a single eyebrow and deliver half a sentence that sends a quiet shock through the room.
Joy Bahar's influence faded after one controversy too many. Yet, she still insists on being treated as a serious voice while performing more like a political caricature. Her monologues march in as if they're historic declarations, then collapse with the accuracy of a wrong trivia answer and the grace of a blaring horn.
The applause she soaks up isn't admiration. It's routine automatic clapping. The kind that happens not because anything landed, but because the audience has been trained to respond on Q.
Meanwhile, Greg Gutfeld and Tyrus deliver the real comedy, the quiet kind that slides in unnoticed and exposes the absurdity sitting right in front of everyone. It's about the view. It's like it's become like a medical hospital that displays human misfailure.
Like, it's like a here, let's look at this political oddity, you know? It's like it really is like the left-wing equivalent of a carnival sideshow, except instead of bearded ladies and fat clowns and two-headed cows. Well, let me rephrase that.
[laughter] Um, but the view is a victim of the sunk cost fallacy. You know, how can you now speak the truth and when for years you've been telling lies after lie after lie? Now you're carrying this big bag of rocks around you because it's too harmful for their ego to admit that we really were dishonest.
And they could be honest. All they would have to say is, "Look, we hate Trump so much. We were willing to lie about Joe Biden because we felt he was preferable.
We thought our lying and our cover up was on your behalf. Just say that. You're still scum, but at least you're honest scum.
" And then Tyrus gave her that look. the quiet pause that asks without a single word, "Do you even hear yourself right now? " Then he turned away and walked off, leaving the remains of her argument to collapse on their own.
He doesn't argue, he observes. And inside that steady, unbothered stare sits the sharpest form of mockery there is. Satire doesn't fold under sincerity, and irony doesn't flinch at anger.
That's exactly where Joy Bahar starts to unravel. She thrives on dramatic outrage, but she's completely unprepared for this kind of exchange. While she swings emotionally, Greg Gutfeld steps aside, lets the moment pass, and responds with humor layered over logic and playful absurdity.
She could stop the performance at any moment, but she won't. The rush of feeling right on camera, even as the foundation gives way, is too strong to resist, and that's what Gutfeld and Tyrus ultimately expose. Not Joy the person, but Joy, the carefully polished character she's been presenting for years.
Sure, all that. and and and the price of butter. Sunny gets the game ball.
If it wasn't for her, [laughter] like if it wasn't for her asking that question, it might have been a closer election. But when you Oh, no. Nothing really comes to mind.
I was like, shing. Listen, they're bitter. They're angry.
They're entitled. They also should be This should have been a reset for everyone who pushed lies and misinformation for the last they called him Hitler. They call these things.
America rejected them. And instead of coming back and saying we lied, they instead are now doubling down. So let her keep doing it because if she keeps that up, we're going to keep getting the Senate and probably the House and the White House because people see right through your lie.
It felt like watching someone expose the emperor's wardrobe disaster without ever naming him. Yet everyone instantly knew who was standing there, fully revealed. That's when the comedy landed at full force.
Tyrus delivered the knockout without saying a single word, sitting perfectly still as the camera lingered on his face. No setup, no punchline, just that stare. The silent message that says, "This is really the conversation we're having.
" That expression alone could drain whatever sliver of self-awareness still clings to Joy Bahar's teleprompter. And frankly, the moment was overdue. Someone needed to dismantle the view without ever stepping onto its set.
The show has drifted from real discussion into a weekly exercise in erasing nuance with confidence. Greg Gutfeld and Tyrus don't need an invitation. They're already running a sharper, smarter version elsewhere without Q cards or choreographed applause.
Sure loves running her mouth. She should But she should. It's the only running she does.
Emily, so what did you make of this? Vivv Vivvac. Vivvac is what you called him.
I don't care if you disagree or agree with him. That dude is not dumb. [laughter] No.
And that's that is what was so ridiculous. Everything that comes out of her mouth is ridiculous. But for her to make that kind of point about someone that we all know that that regardless how you feel about his politics or him running that he is undeniably brilliant is so ridiculous.
While the view buries itself under its own applause, Greg Gutfeld and Tyrus deliver comedy with real edge. And it's obvious which one viewers actually want. One side lectures, the other makes people laugh.
And when audiences grow exhausted by non-stop preaching, humor wins every time. Here's the twist. Joy Bahar wasn't even present for her own dismantling while she spun in a swivel chair, waiting for some dramatic challenger to appear.
Gutfeld and Tyrus were already breaking down her legacy from afar. Like an overcooked roast forgotten in the slow cooker of daytime television. No invitation, no spotlight, just a clean, deliberate tear down carried out at a distance.
Gutfeld lit the spark from his studio, took a calm sip of coffee, and watched the foundation of Joyy's carefully polished kingdom begin to tremble. Tyrus closed it out with a flat stare and a quiet, amused breath that spoke louder than any speech ever could. Here's Joy Behar talking about refusing to share a kidney.
My friends with a Trump supporter. I won't give them a kidney, but I could be friends with them. Hey Joy, it's a kidney, not a pizza.
[laughter] Of course, she's kidding at first, but then she goes on to explain the moral foundation for her resentment, and it's the same one that drives all deadly ideologies. And that's what cut the deepest. Joy Bahar was waiting for a clash, a fiery response, maybe even a dramatic split screen showdown.
Instead, she found herself reduced to background noise in a roast where the supposed star didn't even matter anymore. Picture spending years crafting a persona built to provoke reactions only to realize no one bothers engaging with it now because the spark has burned out. The costume feels tired and the circus packed up long ago.
What made it worse? The audience didn't miss her. Not even briefly.
We've entered a different era. One where viewers have outgrown polished, overproduced lecture halls pretending to be talk shows. They're swapping forced outrage for sharp satire, smug monologues for quiet smirks and endless rants for a single expression that says more than any speech ever could.
The view, once a midday battleground of competing opinions, now feels like a dim wax museum. Hosts drifting through scripted anger and recycled talking points served up like leftovers nobody asked for. Sausage maker Johnsonville is recalling more than 42,000 lbs of pork sausage for possible contamination with plastic fibers.
Fortunately, authorities were able to track all 42,000 lbs to a single location in New York City. [cheering and applause] Younger viewers aren't lining up to be lectured by millionaire hosts who mistake applause for authority. They've walked away from the same worn out puppet routine, especially when the strings are obvious and the scolding never stops.
Instead, they're gravitating toward voices like Greg Gutfeld and Tyrus, who expose the absurd with nothing more than a smirk and an easy shrug. Meanwhile, Joy Bahar is still raging at the clouds, unaware the storm passed long ago. Gutfeld scans the cultural forecast with a grin and a raised eyebrow, while Joy keeps shaking her fist at the sky, convinced she can command the weather.
Spoiler, the sky isn't listening and neither is the audience. So, while Joy likely preps another panel where everyone nods before she finishes a sentence, the real tearown already happened without her ever entering the room. Gutfeld and Tyrus didn't need her presence to roast her.
Only her habits, her persona, and a show stuck on repeat. The rest unfolded on its own, and that so-called throne, it's become a shaky stool, perched on a fading laugh track, surrounded by the dust of ideas that have outlived their moment.
