In today’s episode of The Victor Wilt Show, we descend into a full-blown Monday-shaped fever dream where Viktor — half-alive, half-coffee, and fully spiritually concussed from Thanksgiving flu rot — tries to claw his way through reality while ranting about bed-and-breakfast nightmares, time-traveling to the filth-soaked 1800s, and people willingly getting beach sand involved in… activities, all while the universe pelts him with $9 Vegas toothpaste PTSD. He recounts YouTube binge sessions about casino scams engineered by feral geniuses with pocket gizmos from the cursed 1980s, then abruptly launches into a prophetic monologue about tourist-draining doom spirals in Vegas, the rise of the Texas Anthrax Triangle™, and toilet bears ripping citizens apart in Japan like a real-time survival horror DLC. Meanwhile, he is plagued by apocalyptic insomnia dreams where he walks from Idaho Falls to Pokey through abandoned houses full of emotional debris and forbidden knickknacks while gas stations price-gouge him for ruby red Squirt like it’s black-market plutonium. Then Peaches arrives and the show mutates further: lost geckos, speaker mountains, the Wall of Sound that shattered his spine, a present that took four hours to wrap because physics is a lie, and a pigeon tattoo that somehow becomes a spiritual event. From there, the episode swan-dives into firefighters in Florida who “hazed” a new guy by pantsing, whipping, robbing, dragging, and waterboarding him — and Viktor cheerfully notes that at least he hasn’t been waterboarded today, so things are looking up. He then spirals through rock news, Poppy vs. Evanescence social-media warfare, a catastrophic schedule of concerts he cannot afford unless he wins the cosmic lottery, and Yellowstone spinoffs multiplying like unattended sourdough. But nothing compares to the moment he reads about a caller who found a dead body and, instead of contacting the police, phoned a morning show to chit-chat about it — prompting Viktor to beg listeners to never, EVER call him with corpses unless it concerns Lieutenant Crain. The episode ends with a chaotic sermon on bouncy houses taking flight Wizard-of-Oz style, Cyber Monday shame, gecko heists at midnight, and Viktor trudging toward the dreaded Monday meeting like a man walking into his own execution while blasting Closer and wondering why the lights can’t just be as dark as his soul. In short: an absolute carnival of flu haze, dream logic, feral wildlife, questionable humanity, retail trauma, and the inescapable horror that it is, in fact, Monday.