Jasmine Crockett’s Shocking Remarks Spark Instant Backlash as Gutfeld & Tyrus Go Off!
Once upon a time on late-night TV, an ordinary political segment turned into a spectacle nobody saw coming. The setting? Fox News’s Greg Gutfeld Show. The protagonist? Democratic Congresswoman Jasmine Crockett, known for her fiery soundbites and social media presence. The antagonists? Greg Gutfeld and his heavyweight sidekick, Tyrus—never ones to pull their punches with a guest or a headline.
It all started innocently enough. Crockett was invited on to discuss the importance of immigrants to America. She made her point with bold, even shocking language: “Ain’t none of y’all trying to go and farm right now. We done picking cotton. You can’t pay us enough to find a plantation.”
The studio’s collective jaw hit the floor. Gutfeld smirked. Tyrus leaned back, his look saying, “Oh, you done messed up.” What began as a simple political debate quickly spiraled into pure chaos—an internet moment in the making.
.
.
.
Gutfeld and Tyrus pounced. Their roast wasn’t just about Crockett’s words—it was about her whole vibe. Her argument on immigrant labor, they said, sounded less like policy and more like reheated talking points, with punchlines clumsily tucked between political slogans. Tyrus didn’t hold back, saying, “She brought a paper straw to a bar fight.”
But the drama didn’t stop there. Crockett had another firestorm brewing: her “Hot Wheels” comments about Texas Governor Greg Abbott, who uses a wheelchair. She joked, “The only thing hot about him is that he is a hot ass mess, honey,” and when called out, claimed she wasn’t talking about Abbott’s disability—just his migrant policy. The internet didn’t buy it, not with her history of making wheel-related jokes at the governor’s expense.
Now, with every misstep, Gutfeld and Tyrus ramped up their mockery. Every awkward pause, every lost train of thought, became comedy gold. The hosts poked fun at Crockett’s overuse of trendy catchphrases, her media polish, and her habit of dodging substantive answers.
And then the scandals rolled in like thunderclouds. A controversial old clip surfaced: Crockett criticizing Florida Congressman Byron Donalds—not for his policy, but for marrying a white woman, accusing him of being “whitewashed.” Gutfeld and Tyrus didn’t let her off the hook. They called out the double standard: If a white Republican made such a comment, the outrage would never end. Yet, Crockett faced little more than an awkward silence—no apology, just more defensive spin.
The roast kept escalating. Gutfeld compared Crockett’s rhetoric to “a motivational poster with legs”—all sparkle, zero substance. Her policies, they argued, were just slogans; her legislative record, little more than viral talking points and flashy social media posts.
Tyrus, never shy, put it bluntly: “This isn’t leadership. It’s laziness wrapped in performance.” They mocked her for being more “brand manager” than politician—chasing likes and hashtags instead of real results.
.
As the show went on, the audience could only sit back and watch the spectacle. It became clear that Crockett was outmatched in this arena—a bystander to her own takedown. No matter how loud she got or how cleverly she spun her narrative, the hosts cut through the noise to expose, in their view, a shallow performance behind her progressive brand.
By the end, the takeaway was simple: Crockett’s political persona might light up social media, but when the spotlight shifts from hashtags to hard questions, she struggles to deliver. She can talk—but can she lead?
As the credits rolled, Gutfeld flashed his signature grin. “Politics isn’t a fashion show,” he said. “It’s supposed to be about solutions.”
And that’s the story of the night Jasmine Crockett stepped on stage ready for a debate—and walked straight into the roast of the year. The internet is still reeling, rewinding the tape, and wondering: Who will be the next to step into the Gutfeld & Tyrus ring?
