When I got my Washington license plates, the guy at the counter gave me a warning as he handed me the new plates:
Now, be sure you check on the return policy for Pennsylvania plates. They’re pretty strict. I think they put a warrant out for your arrest if you don’t return them promptly.
I called to verify – indeed, you are supposed to return them. (I didn’t verify the warrant part… I didn’t want to sound shady). They’re picky about having all plates returned to them. Any refund for the unused part of the year of PA registration? No.
It turns out that I also still had my Nebraska plates (because the Nebraska DMV isn’t psychotic about their plates), so I took it to a local licensing branch to recycle the plate. As I sat and waited for a free attendant to give my plate to, the young child next to me was eyeing my license plate.
“When you move states, you have to get new plates,” his mom told him. “Why don’t you ask that nice man where he got his plates from?”
Kids are fun, so why not. “I’m from Nebraska. Do you know where Nebraska is?”
With a smile: “No…”
Mom with the save: “It’s very far away.”
The kid comes back with: “I thought it was fire… because it had red and yellow on it.”
What an interesting conjecture. What would the state of fire be? …Hell, perhaps?
Probably not… people have actually heard of Hell.