SPEAKER_03 0:14

It's the show. It's the e show.

SPEAKER_00 0:35

Driver's license and registration, please.

SPEAKER_03 0:38

Yeah, give me a minute. I'll get it. Hold on.

SPEAKER_00 0:40

Driver's license and registration, please.

SPEAKER_03 0:42

I heard you, brother. Give me a fucking minute.

SPEAKER_00 0:45

Driver's license and registration, please.

SPEAKER_03 0:47

Hey man! That's three times! I gotta fucking go into the registration of motor vehicles, fucking rat, motherfucker! Put me on a ventilator. Can't deal with this shit. Fucking the uh you know the eek show is? Yeah. Okay, so give me a minute. You gotta get through the eek show first.

SPEAKER_02 1:12

R 508. Come to window number two. R 508. Window number two.

SPEAKER_03 1:28

I said welcome to the eek show ya. I said welcome to the eekshow. I said welcome to the eekshow. Eekshow dot show That's the Instagram where you fucking find all the fucking little Easter egg fucking pellets. Fucking I'm Pac-Man and you're a fucking ghost! Are you inky blinky dot or fucking Dale or whatever the fucking fourth one's name is? What do you got? Red, orange, yellow, and fucking pink? One of them might be pinky. Oh, who the fuck is Inky, bitch? Is that fucking winky? No, man, that's fucking pinky, bitch. I want you to be a fucking Pac-Man ghost, so I can fucking eat you and spit you out, cad! Watch your eyes fucking race back to the middle of that box. So you can get your fucking ghost coat on again. Eekshow! Walkies, walkies, walkies, walkies, walkies, walkies, walkies. That's eek show backwards, cat. Fucking Mary Lou's coffee. Uh-huh. There's a pink fucking there's a giant fucking pink cup of coffee just on top of a post in front of their building. And it's pink. Yo, is that pinky bitch? Yo! Coffee fucking blows ass, Mary Lou. I'm kidding. I don't know your business, Mary Lou. I had your coffee once. Like fucking 13 years ago, man. I used to live right down the street from this place where I'm sitting right now in traffic. Fucking move! Oh, nice! Stop short. Cause accidents, that's great. Yeah. Yeah, put your thumb out, you fucking dink ass. Go! Dude, what is going on now? What is he the horns? Fucking key a fucking dot soul! Bitch ass. Fucking stupid ass bitch ass. You wanna know what the episode's about today, huh? You wanna fucking pull the curtain back and see who's fucking what Oz is gonna talk about? The great and powerful Eek Show! Hey, that's for you. I uh I give you uh this heart. So you can have and live your dreams. Fucking Tin Man ka. I would have fucking tuck a sledgehammer and just smashed fucking Tin Man's fucking chest, put a big dead in him. Today's episode, in the calmest form imaginable, I wanna talk about a place that I call rat motherfucker put me on a fucking ventilator. Cause I want to be dead. I want you to put me to fucking sleep. Put me in a coma. So I don't have to experience any of it in real time. If you take a listen to those fucking first initials, the acronym. Rat is R. Motherfucker is M. Put me on a ventilator. It actually is a PMO V. But I just wanna I just wanna reference the V. So RM V, you know what it spells, yeah. Registry of Motor Vehicles. And that, my friends, is where literally people go to fucking die. That's where they go to die. I'm pulling the left there, look at it! It's in blue, it's on fucking Columbian Street and fucking brain tree mass. There's a squirrel right now eating a fucking little acorn. I'm gonna talk to him. I'm gonna talk to him. What's up, squirrel, bitch? Hey man, how's your fucking acorn nut? Huh? I gotta go to the fucking rat motherfucker. Put me on a ventilator, bitch! I'm way early for my appointment because I want my death to be even slower than it's gonna be. It's another sign with the RMV on it. Rat motherfucking, put me on a ventilator! The place is fucking cursed. Absolutely cursed! I'll tell ya, full-fledged, I'd rather be fucking put on fire, set on fire, than have to fucking hang out at this motherfucking place, man. I'd rather be set on fire. I'd rather be set on fucking fire with gasoline poured on my face than have to go to this fucking place, man. And I'm gonna tell you why. Okay? I'm gonna tell you why. A little fucking tale I like to call Lexus sucks ass! I'm not talking about Lexus to be fucking doucheworthy or fucking uppity or yuppie bitch. I'm staring right now at a fucking 150 foot tall. Is that about the fucking moving? Dude, that shit is fucking high as fuck. Right now I'm looking at a goddamn fucking TV tower.

SPEAKER_02 7:13

Or whatever the fuck it is.

SPEAKER_03 7:15

You're lucky I don't climb up there and fucking high dive into the fucking pavement. Tell you that'd be worth it. Just come down and fucking splat. Did you get your registration done, man? No, man. I fucking climbed up the fucking TV tower right near it and fucking pulled off a back fucking inward four and a half right into the pavement. Crushed my shoulders, huh? My teeth ended up in the back of my fucking skull. So you didn't get registered, huh? Nah, man, but I feel better about it. I'd rather have fucking no more life than have to go into that fucking shit ass place. I'm talking about the DMV. Driver motor vehicles, whatever the fuck the DMV means. In Massachusetts, it's called the RMV, because everything about Massachusetts has gotta be particular. You gotta pay your excise tax. You gotta do this, you gotta sign that. You gotta get a stamp. In Massachusetts, you gotta get a stamp. Come here, love. Insurance, registration, fucking license renewal, taxes, health coverage, excise tax. It's all the bullshit you have to potentially get in Massachusetts that's different than anywhere else. Okay, I know everywhere else in life sucks ass too, but not like here. I've lived in New York, I've lived in upstate, I lived in California, I lived in Virginia. There is no place like here when it comes to fucking bullshit, money, scam, tax. We're gonna be more fucking fucked up than any other state, even though it's beautiful here. I love the ocean, I love the sports, I love the fucking food, I love the people overall. A lot of them are motherfucking bitch asses. Not the Eek Show, huh? The Eek Show is all knowing worldwide.

SPEAKER_01 9:24

Tony, I'm staring at this fucking tower right now, and I know I can climb it with one arm.

SPEAKER_03 9:31

Yo, Eeksho's out there climbing the fucking TV fucking electrical tower by the fucking rat motherfucker. Put me on a ventilator! Place where you go to get your fucking car shit done. Guys fucking climbing it with one arm. It's a fucking madhouse of fucking people down there just watching them. This motherfucking place, man, every time you go, every time you have to go, you're gonna be there at least a couple hours. Okay, one hour plus. Gar and fucking team. You set up an appointment online, which is quote unquote a newer thing the last few years. They also moved the location. Okay? It's set off in a fucking remote area where you literally know if I was gonna put myself on fire and just die, this would be the perfect place to do it. This would be the perfect place to do it. I don't want to hurt anybody else. Now I don't like or want to be around anybody in that rat motherfucker, put me on a ventilator, RMV place, but I'll tell you what, I don't wish harm upon others. But I want it upon myself when I have to go to this place. It's 8 11 in the morning. My appointment's in an hour. Okay? And of course I'm fucking well on time. 15 minutes early is on time. Remember that for all you interviewers out there. I came fucking last week fully prepared. I had the fucking title and application ready to go because fucking Lexus. We bought out a lease back in April, okay? We bought out a lease. Not my car, my wife's car. She's my queen. I love her. I bought out her lease, she doesn't have to fucking ever worry about a fucking car. This thing's fucking mint. Low mileage on it. We got it a couple years after COVID. That thing's fucking beautiful. If we s gave the lease back and flipped into a new one, which we've done for years in the past, this they would have fucking sold this car for near 50,000 bucks. Okay, again, that's not to be a douche rocket. That's just to tell you the truth. That's each show fucking truth. Got bought out the lease, okay? Didn't pay it off entirely, got a loan payment. I don't have a ton of debt other than the home, so fuck it. Okay, I wanted to fucking have a nice car. That's almost like the thing is literally like it's brand new still. It's like 22,000 miles on it. You know what Lexus does? The fucking illustrious fucking luxury brand. It took him four months to send me the fucking title because they lost it in the mail. Do you wanna hear fucking Eeksho bitch about fucking his bullshit fucking asshole fucking state title being lost in the mail by fucking Lexus, which is a fucking yuppie uppity fucking car brand? No, I don't think you do, but you're gonna hear it because it's a fucking prequel to where I am right now. It's where I fucking wanna go to die. If you ever saw Zootopia, the sloths, okay? The sloths that work at the fucking registry of motor vehicles, driver motor vehicles, whatever the fucking DMV stands for in other states, Massachusetts, huh? They wanna have their own fucking way of saying things. OUI laws in the ma in the United States are all pretty similar, except in Massachusetts. They're stricter and more crazy. There's all kinds of things about Massachusetts that want to make you fucking tie a big giant noose and hang! But I'll tell you what, if I was gonna fucking actually hang, I'd be at the top of this fucking tower. I'm leaning down, I'm below the phone right now, my voice is rising. This motherfucker is 150 plus feet up. I'd fucking climb to the top with one arm, fucking put the noose up with my other fucking foot, attach it to that fucking bulbous fucking satellite shell up the top, and I just fucking hang right down. People are screaming, they're crying, oh no god, oh they're already coming out of the fucking rat motherfucker, putting me on a ventilator fucking RMV. They already wanna die, but now they see Ekshow hanging. Oh god, oh god, oh no! I don't know how I'm gonna go another fucking year, month, week, or day without his fucking podcast. I just don't know how I'm gonna do it. Oh god, please, please. Ekshow! I'm gonna open the window and yell to him, Ekshow! Ink show! That's probably fucking five-hos around here. Yo, man, you have for your registration, man. You gotta have this paper and that sign and the blue ink stain on the fucking bottom right. And it's gotta be 30 days within the acceptance of you talking to your insurance agent. Cause that's what happened. I show up last week, ready to go. I got the fucking application, okay? I finally got the state title of proof of title for the fucking Lexus, okay? I finally got all the paperwork from those motherfuckers who don't do shit, don't change their website. Lexus Financial's a shit ass fucking website, by the way. Be weary. No, you gonna call me out? Go ahead. Never miss one payment for like fucking 12 years of their fucking dog shit. And I'm not saying I should be honored because I didn't miss a car payment, but the way that they run that fucking website, haha! They're lucky I didn't fucking try to melt it. Yo, yo, Higgshow, how do you melt a fucking website, dude? Light it on fire, man. Of course that wouldn't work, and I'm just fucking out of my mind right now because I gotta walk into a fucking prison. Cause that's what the RMV is. It's fucking jail. Yo, uh someone told me you were complaining you you were in jail, you're arrested. Yeah, I was, man. I went to the fucking RMV, I was there for like five hours. What'd you get done, Ekshaw? I got nothing done. I had everything itemized and ready to go. I get up there, I wait an hour and a half. Prior, I made an appointment for a specific time that I was 15 to 20 minutes early for, and I still waited an hour and a half. And when I walked up, okay, when I walked up, I'll even tell you the truth, there's numbers two through twenty staring in front of us. R125, please go up to the the ninth terminal. Q445, please go up to the fifth terminal. I wait the hour and fucking 40 minutes. They're like, R123, please go up to the second terminal. I look up, and there's three through twenty. I don't see two. Now I see that at the end of three to my left, there's another hallway, so I go over, there's no hallway. Not only did I wait one hour and 40 minutes, I nearly walked into a fucking wall in a door. And of course I have to ask the fucking. The guy should be making $8.99 an hour. And don't even give him the nine bucks. $8.99 an hour. He's got the fucking sort of legal, police, insurance, security agent combination, you know, oversized pants, bad shirt, you buy it. Fucking Sims. Sims is a fucking shit ass fucking department store, S Y M S that used to exist in New England, Massachusetts area. It's like Burlington Coat Factory, but it's called Sims. And it sucks, okay? Suck your motherfucking shit ass. S Y M S. Suck your motherfucking shit ass. You go there if you want shit clothes. You can tell when someone's wearing shit. You know, I'm not saying I'm a fucking good dresser. Not. But if I want to look nice, I will. You know what I mean? It's fucking eek show style, cat. I'll throw a tuxedo on and go to work with it. Do you smell fart? No, no, it is fart. It's ketchup. I have ketchup in my mouth. Now I'm starting to think that the tuxedo thing isn't that funny. Stepbrothers, Kat! I'm there with everything. The guy I go up to, okay? To find number two, which is fucking at the front. I don't see it because I'm now sitting in a different part of the RMV. I already feel like a fucking asshole could I had to talk to fucking three sizes too fucking big for him, fucking collared shirt with fucking the wrong neck size and a shit ass fucking tie that looks like it's been fucking wrapped around the bottom of a toilet so the P doesn't soak into the floor. So when it drips down the fucking hopper or the porcelain bottom, it soaks into the tie. He's got that tie on with his fucking oversized, shit ass fucking Sims-collared dress shirt on, his fucking pay less black shoes, making $8.99 an hour. He's like, yeah, man, it's over this side. And I'm like, okay, thank you. I get up there, I'm ready to roll. The guy behind the fucking guy, the guy behind this fucking window pane glass that probably protects you from bullets, because everybody who goes there not only wants to kill themselves, but they want to shoot the people that work there. Because the people that work there want to kill themselves. Who wouldn't want to kill themselves at the RMV? Not only do you fucking have to be in a place that if you weren't there, when you go there, you want to die, right? Rat, motherfucker, put me on a ventilator, I want to die, or be in a coma. Or go fucking hang myself with each show from a giant tower. I'm looking up at it again. I'd fucking climb that thing in 10 seconds flat. This guy wants to kill himself. He's got this way. He can't talk. He's like, you hear? Right away, I fucking slide him the title. I'm like, you need do you need the original? Do you want the copies? I've got copies, I've got my insurance, I've got my current registration, I've got a copy of my license. I did it all. I've got a check, right? You better have a credit card, man. You don't have a credit card. And I go, why do you why do I need to have a credit card? He doesn't explain himself. I found out online that I need to have a credit card, and he wants a credit card because most people that go to the RMV are fucking dog shit, rat fucking poor, and they can't afford to pay with a check, so they don't want that shit to bounce because it takes longer to process. You know what I mean? And that's true, I get it. There's not, you know, you don't go to the RMV and see a bunch of fucking. I don't want to be mean, but you don't see the RMV's an interesting place. It is kind of like jail. You you wouldn't expect to see people that are sharp. Not even just sharp looking. I don't mean rich and I don't mean intelligent. Anybody can be creative or smart from anywhere in the world, any color, any race, any gender. I'm down with all of it. I love the melting part of the world. I don't want to fucking hang out with people that are just like me. I don't. That's not who I want to hang out with. But I also don't want to hang out with people that fucking wrap the tire on the bottom of the fucking toilet to soak up the piss because you don't always get it right in the middle of the fucking bowl. Okay? Every guy out there knows that sometimes you don't drill the fucking piss stream. You gotta be cleanly. You gotta mop that shit up, or you gotta fucking grab an extra piece of toilet paper and fucking clean it up. Wipe down the fucking bowl. Hopefully you put the seat up if you're married or you have kids. Hopefully you don't use the toilet that your kids use, right? They have their own bathroom. You don't wanna fucking blast up their fucking potty cat. I had a fucking waffle Chick fil A fucking sandwich last night. I'll tell you what, man, you wanna fucking go to the moon? You wanna Live in you fork space. Get the waffle fucking spicy Chick-fil-A sandwich. And they do give you a fucking little packet of syrup. Did you play the lottery yesterday, Joe? I didn't, but I fucking hit it. You hit the lottery, man? I did. They gave me fucking a little pack of syrup with my fucking spicy chicken and waffle sandwich. I poured the syrup out in our own little fucking ramekin. Those little white dishes, the ramekin, you can put ketchup ranch, fucking chili pepper sauce, whatever you want. You can put fucking Viking in there crushed up with some mustard if you want to. I squeezed a little fucking Vermont made syrup with that fucking girl on the fucking label just staring back at you like drink my syrup, you fucking whore bitch! Can't believe the fucking Vermont syrup later called me a whore! Fucking, I thought it was my dad! Drink your fucking syrup, you bitch!

unknown 23:12

Unbelievable, man.

SPEAKER_03 23:14

What a sandwich. So I'm up there and the guy running me. I can't understand him. I can't hear him. And he he just starts blabbering. He's telling me, can't do it right away. I can't I can't do this. You gotta come back there. It's gotta be within 30 days. There's no fine print on the fucking thing that says 30 days. When you get your fucking stamped insurance certificate in Massachusetts, you gotta go within 30 days. Now, do I know this? No. Does it say it online? No. Should I know? Of course. It's my fault. It's always your fault when you show up somewhere without what you need. Let's say you didn't do your homework. Let's say you didn't do your work. Let's say you forgot to wear a certain amount of stuff or things or color to wherever you're going. If you didn't wear a tie, you're supposed to fucking shave. All those things in life are responsibilities. Guy, girl, whatever the fuck you are. But this is the fucking rat motherfucker. Put me on a ventilator, RMV. I don't want to be here. I want to get this shit done. I took time out of my workday to come do it. I took time away from the eek show. That's fucking catastrophic. And sure enough, man. Oh, look at this fucking guy. Yeah, come come over and tell me I'm doing something wrong. Fucking national grid. Motherfucking truck's gonna come over and say shit. This might be a free eek show fucking guest. Come on, national grid, bitch! I got a fucking nine iron in the back. Not only will I fucking blast it right into his fucking truck, I'll put back spin on it! See, eek show fucking hit that truck! Shit hit the fucking green and it fucking spun back towards the flag. I'm out of my mind. I am. I hate the RMV. God tells me I can't do it. Can't do it, man. I can't do it. Nice enough though, suddenly I'm like, I can't even hear you, man. He's already yelling at me that I can't have a check, which I thought you needed to have. It's gonna say masked dot! M-A-S dot! The fucking dirty dot, cut! You from fucking Dorchester? The dirty dot. Yo! You got a fucking Fenwacker! I meet a couple of my fucking boys up in uh fucking uh the cask. Gonna fucking hit up the fucking bleaches. He tells me I can't fucking do anything. I'm stuck. You gotta come back. You gotta come back next Wednesday, man. Fucking. The guy looks like. Oh, he just looks like a fucking pure fucking. Another guy. I'm not even gonna make fun of him. He looks like someone who wants to die. He he himself was already mad at me, didn't know me, didn't know how I prepared who I was, doesn't know my situation, that I want to pay with a check because I just want to pay for the fucking sales tax, the registration fee, and the title fee, and be done with it. I want it out of my life. I want it to be over. I've dealt with this fucking Lexus lease buyout since mid-April. Talking to insurance, talking to the loan company, talking to Lexus, talking to the insurance company, back to Lexus, everybody blaming the other one. And and meanwhile, right in the middle of it, Eekshow. The fucking Eek Show! A fucking diamond in the middle of fucking shit all around it.

SPEAKER_01 27:10

That diamond still shines.

SPEAKER_03 27:12

Okay? That diamond still shines. Eekshows a diamond that shines. And why would I want this to be an episode to tell all the fucking Eek Show land? Because I want you guys to buy gas and fucking blow all the RMDMVs up all over the country. I don't really want you to do it. This isn't a public service announcement, but fictitiously, for humor purposes, okay, for entertainment, I want you to buy into my dream and I want you to end the world. I want to rid it of fucking RMVs and DMVs. I want a world without RMV and DMV and the existence of it. I don't care if people fucking drive around with fucking roofs and fucking hoods cut off. I don't care if people drive around on fucking one-wheels. Oh shit, kid, here comes a motherfucker. This looks like a fucking Chrysler, fucking some sort of Chrysler. It's got a fucking rotted front fucking plate. He's like staring me down, like, what are you doing over here, man? Filming the eek show, cat. Oh, that guy might have a fucking he might literally have a fucking shotgun. Oh shit, kid. I better watch my fucking stuff. That guy's gonna come back and fucking blow my brains up. That actually was real, man. That guy looked fucking shady. He's going to the RMV too, though. I just fucking hug him. Dude, we're gonna go in there and die together. So that's the episode. That's the episode. The place, I don't even need to make it all about the RMV. It's just the experience. It's just the the you know the anticipation of fucking dying inside a building that you have to go to to make things legal for your fucking car in Massachusetts. I gotta pay fucking massive tax on the car, which I understand. What it's worth now, not then, but it's still worth. Like it's almost fucking new, which is why Lexus wanted it back. We'll give you all this deal and make you pay all these fees on the fucking way out. So I'm like, fuck this. I'm just gonna fucking just gonna buy it from my wife, God! I bought a fucking mallow cup a couple weeks ago. Why not buy the fucking car? Ink show's fucking off his rocker, man. He's buying mallow cups and Lexus's in the same fucking month.

SPEAKER_01 30:00

I bought a Lexus and a Mallow cup. Uh-huh. I got some chocolate and a Lexus. A fucking Lexus and a Mallow cup, bitch.

SPEAKER_03 30:10

I gotta go inside that place in about fucking 20 minutes. So this may very well be my last episode. Rat, motherfucker, put me on a ventilator RMV. The Eek Show was laid to rest. In a building with red brick. Fans were screaming and crying all around it. He went there to fucking get his car re-registered because it no longer was owned by Lexus. It was owned by the Eek Show. He had to go pay the sales tax on the lease buyout, get his fucking title renewed or authorized in the state of fucking Mass and pay for the registration to have new plates on a car that no longer was a lease, that no longer was owned by anybody other than the Eek Show. And that's where he died. That's where he was laid to rest. He actually officially isn't dead. He was put on a ventilator. Hence the initials RMV! That's the lore of the fucking actual word! RMV! Eekshow got that instituted into the state of mass! Rat motherfucker, put me on a ventilator! RMV. And now the Eekshow's dead. And I want all of you to carry out my mission. To carry out my dream. Rid the world of RM and DMVs. Rid the world of registry of motor vehicles. Rid the world of awkwardness and paperwork and phone calls and signatures and dates and stamps and fees and costs. Rid the world of all that shit. I want to go back to prehistoric times where cavemen just screamed at each other, hit people in a fucking head with a fucking club, and ate fucking bugs and fucking dead dinosaur meat. If I lived as a caveman, I would have fucking cooked up a pterodactyl wing! Oh, Ekso's having fucking wings! It's a pterodactyl wing. It looks like it's teriyaki, man! Cheriaki pterodactyl! I want fucking teriyaki pterodactyl wings! And I wanna be able to dip them in my fucking ramekin fucking little jar of fucking Vermont! She called me a whore syrup! Shut up! I hope everybody out in Eaksholand has a better day or morning. Not only that I'm gonna have, because I'm gonna go fucking die over the next two hours in that place. I'm looking right at it right now. I'm looking at it. I hate you! I hate you! I'm beeping at it! I hate you, RP! It's fucking real. I'm sitting here right by this fucking tower that I'm gonna climb with one arm that I already have climbed. There's barbed wire around it so you can't climb it. I'll go over there and gnaw the fucking barbed wire off with my teeth! I'm gonna go over there to die. And I'm sure something's gonna go wrong again. That's how insecure and afraid I am of that place. I don't wanna go there. I don't wanna go in there. I don't wanna go. You afraid of fucking fire, spiders, fucking. I know you're afraid of bears, but are you afraid of anything else? I'm afraid of the RMV. Okay? I'm afraid of it. And I'm gonna be on a ventilator in about fucking an hour or two. So carry on the word of the Eekshow. Carry on the legend that is Eeksho. The one thing I implore you, please carry out my mission. Buy up all the gas and end. End the world's fucking existence of RMV DMV locations. End them all. Okay? I want this like Fight Club. I want missions carried out. The first rule of Eekshow is to not talk about what Eekshow told you to do, which is to end the world, free the world of RMVs and DMVs. That is all.