1-800 How's My Driving?
Call 30
Track guide
The Pacemaker
Leave It To Beaver
1-800 How's My Driving? is the thirtieth prank call in the Crotchety Old Man Calls series.

Transcript Edit

(ringback tone)

Man: (censored) Trade, can I help you?

Milton: D'oh! Thank God you've answered! One of your drivers is trying to run me off the road!

Man: Excuse me?

Milton: Why don't you get that (censored) out of your ear and listen to me?! My name is Milton Fludgecow and one of your psychotic, mental case delivery drivers is trying to kill me right now!

Man: Sir?

Milton: Ho-hold up! He's coming up on me fast! Oh my-!

Man: Sir?

Milton: Hold on! He's coming up-! Ho-! Holy crap!

Man: What-?!

(delivery driver slams truck into Milton's Mercury Grand Marquis)

Milton: Oh! He just rammed me! He-!

Man: Sir, you need to take a deep breath and calm down!

Milton: (panicking) How the hell can I calm down, you moron?! If one of your guys is trying to kill me?!

Man: Nobody's trying to-!

Milton: Ahh! He's ramming me from behind!

Man: What is your location right now?

Milton: I'm on the interstate! I was traveling a safe forty-five miles per hour when your driver started riding my ass!

Man: Can you get a cab number on that trailer?

Milton: Listen to me! Shut your monkey brain and listen to what I'm saying! I tapped the brakes to inform him he was following too close! That's when all hell broke loose! And he shot me the bird and then rammed my mint condition 1995 Mercury Grand Marquis!

Man: Can you see the number on the truck?

Milton: No, I can't see the number on the truck! I was lucky enough to get this number to call you!

(delivery driver rams Milton's car again)

Man: Oh!

Milton: Oh, holy-! He just hit me again! He's ramming, he's- OH MY-!!!

(delivery driver rams into Milton's car again)

Man: Sir! Sir, pull over!

Milton: I can't pull over! He's ramming me like a battering ram!

(delivery driver strikes Milton's car again; Milton's back window shatters)

Man: Pull over, sir!

Milton: My whole back window just blew out!

Man: Where...where-? You gotta tell me where you are!

Milton: I'm on the interstate! I'm gonna-!

Man: Which one?!

Milton: Oh! He's in front of me now!

Man: Well, just...put your brakes on and pull over!

Milton: He's in front of me now! He's sticking-!

Man: Pull over!

Milton: He's sticking his head out the window!

Man: Jesus Christ!

(delivery driver throws Big Gulp and large pizza at Milton's windshield)

Milton: He just threw a Big Gulp and a large pepperoni pizza on my windshield! I can't see jack crap!

Man: Just pull over!

Milton: Hey! What is wrong with ya?! I gotta put the windshield wipers on!

Man: Do that...

Milton: Hold on a minute!

(Milton turns windshield wipers on)

Milton: Hold on there! Okay! Windshield wipers are on! Hold on- clearing window! (grunts)

(Milton cleans windshield; turns windshield wipers off)

Milton: Okay! Pizza's off!

Man: That's not one of our truck drivers, I'm telling you right now!

Milton: Oh, really?! Listen here, schmuck on wheels, I'm staring at your company logo right now, you (censored) moron!

Man: You will stop this abusive language or I'm gonna terminate this call!

Milton: Oh, my God! He's coming alongside me! He's coming alongside me!

(delivery driver sideswipes Milton's car)

Milton: Ahh! He's sideswiping me! Oh, my God, the sparks are flying-!

Man: Hit the brakes!

Milton: I'm going to die!

Man: Stop!

Milton: Your truck driver is trying to run me into the bridge abutment!

Man: Hit the brakes!

Milton: I'm going-! AHHHHHHHHHH!!!

(Milton swerves and crashes into the bridge abutment)

Milton: (screaming)

(Milton's car explodes, killing him)

Man: (to co-worker) You won't believe what I just heard! (censored)! Hello?!

(man hangs up)

(ringback tone)