In the arena of political commentary, few hosts wield sarcasm like a weapon quite effectively as Greg Gutfeld. But his recent segment targeting Minnesota Governor and former Vice Presidential nominee Tim Walz wasn’t just a critique; it was a demolition. In a monologue that has since set social media ablaze, Gutfeld delivered what many are calling the most savage “roast” of the year, painting a portrait of a leader who is, in Gutfeld’s words, “lost in a Target parking lot.”

From mocking Walz’s military record to dissecting his “woke” policies and uncomfortable public mannerisms, the Gutfeld! host left no stone unturned. The result was an 18-minute masterclass in comedic vitriol that branded Walz the “Tampon King” and arguably cemented his image as the “IKEA Governor”—a leader who arrives in a box, missing screws, with assembly required.

The “Tampon King” and “Estrogen” Jabs

Gutfeld wasted no time setting the tone, opening with a blistering attack on Walz’s persona. Referring to him as the “Tampon King getting back in the ring,” a nod to Walz’s policy of providing menstrual products in boys’ school bathrooms, Gutfeld quipped that the “estrogen levels were enough to give Chuck Norris menstrual cramps.”

It was a classic Gutfeld opener: shocking, hyperbolic, and designed to trigger immediate laughter (or outrage, depending on your politics). But he quickly pivoted from playground insults to substantive, albeit brutally phrased, critiques of Walz’s character.

“There’s only one explanation for Tim spewing nonsense like this,” Gutfeld said, referring to Walz’s recent town hall comments on diversity. “Time of the month.”

“Stolen Valor” and the “Official Bikini Inspector”

The roast took a sharper turn when Gutfeld addressed the lingering controversies surrounding Walz’s military service. Walz has faced persistent criticism for allegedly embellishing his rank and retiring just before his National Guard unit deployed to Iraq.

Gutfeld didn’t just report on the allegations; he turned them into a punchline. “He once claimed to be an official bikini inspector,” Gutfeld joked, mocking the inconsistencies in Walz’s résumé.

But the humor had a biting edge. Gutfeld brought up the testimony of Walz’s direct superiors, who claimed Walz went behind their backs to resign when deployment loomed. “When reached for comment, Walz yelled, ‘Hey, look over there!’ and then ran away,” Gutfeld mimed, painting the Governor not just as a politician, but as a caricature of cowardice.

“If political leadership were a buffet,” Gutfeld mused, “he’d be the sad, room-temperature mashed potatoes no one ordered… bland, unnecessary, and somehow always there.”

“The Land of 10,000 Bad Ideas”

Moving from the personal to the political, Gutfeld dissected Walz’s governance of Minnesota, a state he dubbed the “Land of 10,000 Bad Ideas.”

The host painted a dystopian picture of the North Star State, claiming that under Walz, it has become a “haunted house made entirely of CEO mandates and social justice PowerPoints.” He pointed to the exodus of businesses and residents as proof that Walz’s economic policies—which Gutfeld described as “taxing oxygen and smiles”—were a failure.

“How do you make California look like a capitalist utopia in comparison?” Gutfeld asked incredulously. “The only thing growing in Minnesota under Walz is government paperwork and the collective migraine of the middle class.”

He compared Walz’s approach to crime to “a toddler playing with matches,” suggesting that the Governor’s solution to rising lawlessness was to “blame society, hold hands, and hope the criminals are swayed by interpretive dance.”

The “Weird” Factor: Hugs and Wide Eyes

Perhaps the most uncomfortable—and hilarious—segment of the monologue focused on Tim Walz’s physical mannerisms. Gutfeld replayed a clip of Walz greeting his wife on stage, a moment that went viral for its lack of chemistry.

“He extends his hand, she grabs it, he pulls her close… and keeps shaking her hand,” Gutfeld narrated, visibly wincing. “I’ve seen warmer embraces between Chris Christie and a salad.”

Gutfeld also zeroed in on Walz’s facial expressions, particularly his tendency to widen his eyes during speeches to convey intensity. “Human beings widen their eyes to convey that danger is close,” Gutfeld noted. “What emotion are you getting from that? It’s creepy. He has ‘creep’ written all over him.”

This segment leaned heavily into the “weird” label that Republicans have tried to affix to the Democratic ticket, with Gutfeld calling Walz a “rogue clown” wandering the terrain without a circus.

The “IKEA Governor”

In his closing arguments, Gutfeld coined a nickname that might just stick: The IKEA Governor.

“He comes in a box, missing screws, assembly required,” Gutfeld declared. “By the end, you’re crying, staring at a wobbly structure, wondering if you’ve accidentally built a metaphor.”

For Gutfeld, Walz represents the ultimate triumph of bureaucracy over competence—a leader who treats policy like a “Pinterest board” and governance like a “TikTok therapy session.” He mocked Walz’s “woke word salad” education policies, where “detention has been replaced with participation trophies,” and ridiculed his “folksy” dad persona as completely manufactured.

“He’s the guy at a tailgate who brings kombucha and asks if the brisket is locally sourced,” Gutfeld laughed. “He’s as relatable as tofu at a monster truck rally.”

A Brutal Verdict

The segment concluded with Gutfeld asserting that Walz’s political career is destined to become an “inconsequential footnote to vice presidential history.” He dismissed Walz as an understudy to California’s Gavin Newsom, but without the “hair gel and Bond villain self-esteem.”

“This isn’t leadership,” Gutfeld summarized. “It’s lifestyle branding with a thesaurus.”

Whether you view Greg Gutfeld’s commentary as harsh partisan attacks or a much-needed reality check, one thing is undeniable: he has mastered the art of the televised roast. And for Tim Walz, being the subject of such a “gluten-free piñata” beating is a PR nightmare that no amount of “Minnesota Nice” can fix.

As the clip circulates across social media, racking up millions of views, it serves as a reminder that in the current political climate, policy debates often take a backseat to the sheer spectacle of the takedown. And nobody does the takedown quite like Gutfeld.