In a moment that left journalists speechless, Vatican officials red-faced with amusement, and critics stunned, White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt unleashed a fiery—and utterly baffling—tirade Thursday afternoon, claiming Pope Leo XIV “could’ve been assassinated” by what she described as a “deceptively harmless knitted doll.”

The incident in question occurred during a public appearance earlier this week in Vatican City. As Pope Leo XIV waved to a cheering crowd, a small, colorful knitted figure was tossed toward him. Rather than flinch or panic, the Pope, known for his athletic past and love for baseball, casually caught the object mid-air, smiled, and passed it to an aide.

While the moment was celebrated online as a wholesome demonstration of the Pope’s agility and approachability, Karoline Leavitt saw something far more sinister.

“This was not just a toy,” Leavitt declared in an impassioned press conference Thursday. “This was a security test. This was a breach. That object could have contained toxic substances, explosives, or weaponized technology. The fact that it was knitted doesn’t make it less deadly. It makes it easier to sneak in.”

She paused dramatically, locking eyes with the press corps. “Let’s be very clear: Pope Leo XIV could’ve been assassinated—by a yarn-wrapped IED.”

Reporters exchanged incredulous glances. A few chuckled, assuming she was joking. But Leavitt wasn’t smiling.

Citing a 2024 Crux article discussing the Vatican’s long-standing tradition of prioritizing openness and spiritual symbolism over hardened security protocols, Leavitt accused the Catholic Church of willful negligence.

“The Vatican has long believed faith alone will protect their leaders,” she said. “But times have changed. The threats are real. And spiritual naïveté is not an excuse for security malpractice.”

In a shocking move, Leavitt called for an international investigation into the incident, demanding “a full-scale review of Vatican crowd procedures, threat analysis, and perimeter control.”

When asked whether the Pope himself expressed concern over the item, Leavitt dismissed the question.

“That’s not the point,” she snapped. “This isn’t about how he felt. This is about what could have happened. It’s about the dangerous precedent of pretending something isn’t a threat because it looks ‘cute.’ If that doll had exploded in his hands, would we still be giggling? Would you all still be sitting here thinking I’m being ‘dramatic’?”

While Leavitt’s alarmist stance sent ripples through the American political scene—with some conservatives applauding her “unfiltered honesty” and others cringing—Vatican officials offered a drastically different reaction.

One senior aide reportedly laughed out loud upon hearing Leavitt’s remarks, saying, “With all due respect, if we treated every act of affection as an assassination attempt, the Pope would have to wear body armor to bless a child.”

Another official close to the pontiff was more blunt: “It was a doll. Handmade by a child. The Pope caught it, smiled, and went about his day. The only thing explosive was the overreaction.”

Despite the pushback, Leavitt doubled down in follow-up interviews, suggesting the Vatican may be “ignoring credible threats” and implying that similar “symbolic attacks” could be precursors to real violence.

Social media erupted with reactions ranging from support to outright mockery. The hashtag #KnittedAssassin trended for hours, with thousands of users posting memes of dolls in combat gear, exploding yarn balls, and mock FBI sketches of “The Purl Bomber.”

“BREAKING: Leavitt Calls for Drone Strikes on Craft Stores,” joked one viral tweet.

“She just turned a Sunday school moment into a terror plot,” another user wrote. “This is peak 2025.”

Still, some political pundits defended Leavitt’s intensity, arguing that her paranoia may reflect deeper concerns about the evolving nature of soft-target threats.

“She may sound extreme,” said national security analyst Brett Conway, “but in an era where unconventional attacks are the norm, even the absurd needs to be considered. The real issue is whether her delivery is helping or hurting the message.”

As for Pope Leo XIV himself, the 267th Bishop of Rome has not commented publicly on Leavitt’s remarks. Sources inside the Vatican say he has kept the doll, which was reportedly made by a young girl from Naples, and intends to display it in his private residence.

“He found the whole situation amusing,” said one insider. “He said it reminded him of when he used to play stickball with his brothers as a kid.”

Whether Leavitt’s outcry leads to actual security reform or becomes another footnote in the ever-growing saga of viral political moments remains to be seen. But for now, one thing is clear: In 2025, even a flying toy can ignite an international firestorm—if the right person screams loud enough.