Oh, to be nineteen again! You with me, ladies and gentlemen? Do you remember nineteen? Let me tell you, the juices are flowing. The red corpuscles are corpuscling, the grass is green, and it's soft, and summer's gonna last forever. [chuckles; inhales sharply] Now, do you remember? Yeah, you do. [clears throat] But if you're being honest...I mean, well, really honest, you'll recall that you also had an underdeveloped nineteen-year-old brain. Me, personally, I...it...If I were held accountable for some of the stupid decisions I made when I was nineteen... [chuckling] Oh, boy, wow. And I bet if we were in church right now, I'd get a big "amen!" Which brings us to these three...Now, these three knuckleheads. And I'm sorry, boys, but that's what you are. They did a dumb thing. We're not denying that. However, I would like you to remember two salient facts. Fact one: Nobody got hurt, not a soul. Very important to keep that in mind. Fact two: Now, the prosecution keeps bandying this term "criminal trespass." Mr. Spinowzo, the property owner, admitted to us that he keeps most portions of his business open to the public both day and night. So, trespassing? That's a bit of a reach, don't you think, Dave? Here's what I know: These three young men, near honors students all, were feeling their oats one Saturday night, and they just went a little bananas. [chuckles] I don't know. Call me crazy, but I don't think they deserve to have their bright futures ruined by a momentary, minute, never-to-be-repeated lapse of judgment. Ladies and gentlemen, you're bigger than that.
S1 E15Unfinished Business
[Leaving the courthouse parking lot, Jimmy pulls up to the attendant's booth and hands his ticket to the attendant]
[clears throat] Three dollars.
Uh, I’m validated, see the stickers?
Well, I see five stickers. You’re one shy. It’s three dollars.
[sighs] They gave me– look. [sighs again] I’m validated for the entire day, okay? Five stickers, six stickers – I don’t know from stickers, because I was in that court back there saving people’s lives, so... [Mike rolls his eyes]
Well, gee, that’s swell. And thank you for restoring my faith in the judicial system. Now you either pay the three dollars, or you go back inside and you get an additional sticker. [hands back Jimmy's parking ticket]
[mutters angrily] Son of a bitch. [scoffs] Fine. [takes parking ticket] You win. Hooray for you! [scoffs again; yells loudly at the driver behind him] Backing up! I have to back up! I need more stickers! Don’t have enough stickers! Thank you! Thank you, very nice!
[Jimmy backs up his car, then drives and parks it next to a fence and a yellow barrier. He gets out of the car and shuts the door.]
Employee of the Month over here! Yeaaah! [claps his hands] Hooray! Give him a medal! [to two police officers standing at a distance] Don’t do anything, fellas. Just relax, all right?
[Jimmy accidentally runs over a skateboarder on his way home. He panics and gets out of the car.]
Oh God, oh God, oh God! Oh my God, Cal! Cal! Look at me! Are you okay?! Say something! [to Jimmy] What did you do?!
I...
What did you do to my brother?! Why don't you look where you're going?!
I was making a turn, he came outta nowhere!
You freakin' hit him, man! You ran him over! You ran over my brother, [holds up video camera] I got the whole thing on video!
Listen! It was an accident. It was an accident, he... he didn't mean to. [tries to get up and yells in pain]
Is it broken? [to Jimmy] You broke his leg! Why are you driving around and not lookin', driving around breaking people's legs!
Okay, okay!
Somebody call the cops!
Don't–don't call the police! Don't call the police!
[to two gardeners in Spanish] Policia! I'll call them myself. [starts dialing his phone]
Don't call the police!
Don't call the cops?
No!
How are you gonna fix this? What are you gonna do to make things right?
[long pause] I don't know, fellas. What can I do to make it right?
[The skateboarder twins look at each other briefly]
I don't know. [pause] Five hundred dollars.
Five hundred bucks? [another pause; Jimmy kicks Cal in the shin]
OW! What the hell, man?!
Listen, Starlight Express, I’m gonna give you a 9.6 for technique, 0.0 for choice of victim! I’m a lawyer! Furthermore, [points at his car] does this steaming pile of crap scream payday to you, huh?! The only way that entire car is worth $500 is if there’s a $300 hooker sitting in it! Now, let’s talk about what you owe me for the windshield.
[Cal and Lars grab their skateboards and run away from Jimmy]
I'll take a check!
You have meddled with the primal forces of nature, Mr. Hamlin, AND I WON’T HAVE IT!
[over the speaker phone] Do you want me to call security?
It’s okay, Brenda. We got it.
[to the other HHM partners] Hey, Jack. Hey, Nate. Hey, Aaron.
What can we do for you, Jimmy?
I'm sorry. It’s... It’s this table. [walks to where Howard is sitting and shows him a ripped-up check] You can tell me what this $26,000 is supposed to be for.
That’s money for Chuck. Isn’t that what you wanted?
A measly 26 grand? [scoffs] Jesus, you’re like Peter Minuit with the Indians. Throw in some beads and shells while you’re at it.
It's just a start, there'll be more. [pause] Unless you’re just gonna tear them all up.
And why was it made out to me? Why not Chuck?
Can he make his way to the bank? [pause] I just assumed it was best to have the money go through you. We can do it any way you want.
This isn’t going away, Howard. What Chuck did for this firm–and damn near single-handedly, one-third of this place–belongs to him. What do you got, twelve chairs here? Four of these chairs are Chuck's. [points at table lamps] You got five of these light thingamajigs? One and two-thirds are Chuck's! Yeah, six... How many danishes, six danishes?
You can have all the danishes you want, Jimmy.
No, no! They’re Chuck’s danishes! And he isn’t greedy, so he’ll just take two... plus $17 million. In that ballpark. I mean, we’ll know once we get the accountants poking around here. Until then, no penny ante checks trying to make it look like Chuck still works here. He doesn’t. He never will again. It’s time to do right by him and cash him out.
So these are Chuck’s own wishes that you’re conveying?
This is what's best for him.
So he personally told you that it’s his wish to withdraw from the firm? [beat] See, that would surprise me.
It's been nearly a year since he stepped foot in here. I’m just doing what’s in his best interest.
So am I. And I, for one, believe he’s gonna lick this thing. Until then, his office is just how he left it. His secretary’s still on payroll. If Chuck can call this an extended sabbatical, then so can we. He’s that important to us.
You know what? Let’s let a jury figure it out. [sighs; sarcastically] They’re gonna love you, Howard. You’re so down to earth! And relatable!
[Jimmy turns to leave the conference room, but turns around]
AND YOU... WILL... ATONE! [pause; everyone stares at Jimmy] It’s Ned Beatty from Network. For Christ’s sake, guys. [walks out]
Let me tell you about a young guy. Actually, he's about your age. He lived a long way from here, in a town called Cicero, Illinois. And in Cicero, he was the man. I mean, when he strolled down the street, all the corner boys would give him the high five, all the finest babes would smile at him and hope that he would smile back. They called him Slippin' Jimmy, and everybody wanted to be his friend.
"Slippin' Jimmy?" What the hell kind of name is that?
Well, I'll tell you now. Winters in Cicero are murder. You guys grown up out here in the golden west – you don't know, okay? I'm talking cold that'll freeze the snot right in your nose. I'm talking wind that'll cut through your jacket and carve you up like a Ginsu knife. In fact, most folks in Cicero were scared of winter. But not Jimmy. Jimmy waited around all summer. And when September finally rolled around, he'd feel that first cold wind come sweeping off Lake Michigan. He knew it was coming. Was it Christmas? Was it Kwanzaa? Better. It was slip-and-fall season. Soon as it was cold enough, he'd find a nice smooth patch of ice. State Street was good, Michigan Avenue was better. He'd pick a spot, wait for it to get busy, and he'd walk out on the ice and boom! He would diff it so hard, people would come running from five blocks away.
Yeah, but did he collect?
Did he collect? Slippin' Jimmy had it dialed in. One good fall, he'd clear six, eight grand. That'd keep him in Old Milwaukee and Maui Wowie right through Labor Day.
[Jimmy is standing at a street corner with two skateboarders, planning a slip and fall scheme]
Betsy Kettleman’s her name. Every weekday between 2:25 and 2:50, she comes through here on her way to pick up her kids at Kit Carson Elementary. Now, you need a place where she’s gonna slow down, am I right?
Yeah.
All right. Well. There you go. She slows down. She hangs a right. You come shooting out of there. You did what you did to me. You go ass over teakettle. You make it a blue-ribbon special. When she gets out of the car, you’re sufferin' St. Sebastian, right? You’re the hammer, okay? You get in her face. You scare the bejesus out of her. Give me your phone. [Jimmy inputs his number]
It’s kind of busy here. Don’t you think?
Well, witnesses are good. Witnesses are pressure. All right? Now, once you’ve got her good and rattled, then you call for an ambulance. But really, you’re calling for me. I'm number one on your speed dial, right next to your weed dealer. [Jimmy hands back the phone] You call me. I hotfoot it over here. I just "happen" to be driving by. I stop to see what the trouble is. And this is the most important part – you don’t know me. We’ve never met. You got it?
Sure.
Okay. Now, I’m Mrs. K’s white knight. We go mano a mano. You light into me, okay? Get nasty. And no touching. Leave the hair alone. But otherwise, you know, open season. Yell. Stomp. Call me a douchebag. I’m gonna play it cool. Give me back some of the razzmatazz and once she’s seen the fireworks, you fold like a lawn chair – happy ending.
When do we get our money?
After.
After.
After. You get paid when I get paid. I’m the rising tide that raises all dinghies. Now, pop quiz – what’s the car?
Mercury Sable wagon. Baby-poop brown.
Okay. Do you know me?
No.
Damn straight. Go with God.
[pointing a gun at Jimmy] Talk.
I'm gonna make an educated guess what happened here. My two clients, Frick and Frack, the mopheads, were in a simple traffic accident. A minor fender-bender, but maybe they were on the wrong side of the street or they didn't look both ways. It could happen to anyone. My clients, exhibiting extremely poor judgement, followed your grandmother to this delightful, well-tended home. Now, at this juncture, I am deducing that they said or did something that... crossed a line, and you–with some justification–you put them in their place. Based on the "salsa" stain there, could've gone a couple ways. The bottom line, not to be morbid, but if they're dead, uh, I'm guessing that I'm... [pause] I'm gonna–Yeah, I'm gonna go with glass half-full here and say they're not. My point is, if they're alive, why kill us? Why, because of a misunderstanding? Our own stupidity? Why mess up your lovely abuelita's place? Why jump to the nuclear option? See, I'm saying "keep it simple." I will collect my moronic clients, and poof, we are gone. Neither you nor your lovely abuelita will ever lay eyes on us ever again, guaranteed! Signed, sealed and delivered... assuming, you know, that they're still breathing.
[pause] Wow. You got a mouth on you.
Thank you.
[At the desert, Tuco interrogates Jimmy who is on his knees, pleading for his life.]
You know what I smell. I smell lies. I smell pork. [Tuco places a wire cutter on Jimmy's finger]
No. That’s not necessary.
Okay, we know you’re with the heat. The question is, who? Local? FBI?
No, no, no.
DEA?
No, I’m a lawyer. Just reach in my pocket right now – right there!
[Tuco takes a matchbook out of Jimmy's pocket, looks at it and throws it away.]
Truth.
That is the truth! I’m a lawyer! Guys, I passed the bar! Ask me anything! Not contract law, okay? I’m down at the court every day! People know me. I’m a known quantity – I am!
[Tuco applies more pressure on the wire cutter.]
I’m – I’m Special Agent Jeffrey Steele, FBI.
FBI?
FBI. I’m undercover, okay? You got me. I’m the tip of the spear, and releasing me would be a smart move.
[Jimmy attempts to convince Tuco to spare the skateboarders]
Think about their mother.
[pause; spits on the ground] I SPIT ON THEIR MAMA!
She is a sweet little lady. She—she’s a widow. She works hard all day, every day—just like her mother before her—from dawn til dusk! Scrubbing the floors of rich people. She needs a cane to walk, you know? She’s got arthritis, and still she works every day. What, for herself? No! No, for them! For these two! They’re her boys, they’re the apples of her eye. You say they don’t deserve her? [shrugs] Maybe so. But... they’re all she’s got. Now... you turn them inside out, I want you to think about what happens to her.
No, [points at the twins with his knife] that’s on them. They should’ve thought about that.
But when I was at your abuelita’s place, you were gonna let them go. Way I see it, that’s because you’re tough, but you’re fair. You’re all about justice.
That’s what I am saying. Justice.
These–these two shit-for-brains? These two big-mouths? You–you already beat the living hell out of them. Do you think they’re ever gonna forget today? Never! Ten years from now, they’re still gonna be crapping their jockeys.
It’s not enough.
Okay, okay. Then let’s talk proportionality. They’re guilty–Oh, agreed. Now you have to decide what’s the right sentence?
Like a judge.
Like a judge. Ever heard of the Code of Hammurabi? Let the punishment fit the crime, eye for an eye?
Eye for an eye. You want me to blind them.
No, no. All they did was trash-talk.
So, I cut their tongues out!
Wait. See, I’m advising that you make the punishment fit the crime.
Punishment fit the crime. Colombian neckties. I cut their throats, and then I PULL THEIR LYING TONGUES THROUGH THE SLITS! BIZNATCH!!
Or you–you could give them black eyes.
Black eyes? [laughs] That ain’t nothing!
That one there, homes. He already got a black eye, fool.
[turns to No Doze] Stop. Helping.
Or you could sprain their ankles.
Sprain?
They’re–they’re skateboarders, right? That–that’s how they run their scam. They can’t skate. You–you hit them where they live.
I ain’t spraining nothing, bitch. I’m gonna break their arms. And I’m gonna break their legs.
Arms? When–when did we get on to arms? Let's...
I’m cutting their legs off.
But–we could go that way. But… we were talking about breaking. I think we’re heading the wrong direction.
Okay. Break their legs.
How many legs?
Two. They got two legs.
One leg. Each.
One leg each?
They’re... One leg each, that’s a total of two legs. Uh, hey, look. They can’t skateboard for six months, and they are scared of you forever. You show everybody that you are the man, but that you’re fair! That you’re just!
[Tuco rolls his sleeves up like he's about to beat Jimmy up, then holds out his right hand]
One leg each.
[looks at the twins, then shakes Tuco's hand] That's tough, but that's fair.
[to Gonzo and No Doze] Alright, lay them out! I ain’t got all day! It’s hot as shit out here!
[Tuco proceeds to break the skateboarders’ legs]
[Jimmy helps the skateboarders onto wheelchairs.]
You—you are—you are the worst lawyer! The worst lawyer ever!
Hey, I just talked you down from a death sentence to six months' probation. I'm the best lawyer ever.
You're light on stickers.
Come on!
Five dollars.
Are you serious?
You've got four, you need five.
There's four ninety-minute stickers there.
You've been here six hours and five minutes.
It takes ten minutes to walk down here!
Five dollars, or you get another sticker.
[takes parking ticket, backs up his car and gets out] This makes you feel real important, huh?! Not enough stickers, more stickers?!
[Later the next day, Jimmy runs low on stickers yet again and vents his anger at Mike]
You're like a troll under a bridge!
[Mike shuts the sliding glass window and ignores Jimmy]
"You must have the stickers, or you won't pass!" Troll alert here! Don't feed it!
Hey, you asked for me, and I have come. I want to tell you this was a wise move—very smart, because I’m here to help everyone—all parties—but mostly you. Uh, those two detectives—They just gave me an earful. And what they were telling me is—it’s problematic. I’m gonna pitch it back to you so I know we’re on the same page. A neighbor lady saw a suspicious van parked across the street from the Kettleman’s house two nights in a row. She wrote down the license plate. It was your license plate. Cops tracked your van and you, searched it, and found blood on the floor. So... here we are. Um... um... they’re calling the FBI in on this, [Jimmy sits down] which makes it federal. That’s a bad thing, Nacho. That’s–that’s very bad, but if you tell me where the family is, if–if you give them up now—full cooperation, deep remorse—I feel very good about knocking your sentence down to the minimum: 18 years. They take this good-behavior thing very seriously, so start here, right here. Tell me the family is okay. Tell me the kids are okay. [beat] You want to tell me your thoughts and weigh in? Does this sound like a plan that you can get behind?
You miserable piece of shit. You set me up.
I what?
You gave my score to another crew, and now you’re setting me up.
I... What the—What? Did the cops beat you? ‘Cause you’re talking like a person with head trauma.
You think you’re funny?
What are you saying? Are you saying that you have nothing to do with this? That was your van outside the house. You weren’t there?
Yeah, I was there. I was casing the place, figuring out the best way in and out, what time they went to bed. All that. They were fine when I left. That’s it.
You have nothing to do with the Kettlemans?
I was never in the house.
What about the blood in your van?
They DNA my ride, all they’re gonna find is the blood of your skate-rat twins, plus whatever piss and shit you leaked out when you were in there. Nobody's been in the back of that van since.
I... I don’t understand.
Here’s what I understand, councilor. I told my plan to one other person. One: You. Now here I am, under arrest. Go figure.
I don’t know anything about a setup or another crew.
[Nacho slams his shackled wrists on the table, startling Jimmy]
You know what? I don’t even care. The cops are out there right now, poking into my business, and if they find something on me or my partners, for real, it’s gonna be bad for you. Really bad.
Bad? Bad as in?
You get me out of here today... or you’re a dead man.
[Jimmy once again doesn't have enough money or validation stickers when he shows up at the booth]
Dammit, here! I'm in a real rush. I didn't have time to get the validation.
Fine, nine bucks. [hands back Jimmy's parking ticket]
[takes ticket from Mike and looks for cash] I...I don't have it. I have five. Please!
You know the drill, money or validation.
Look, this is an emergency, okay?! A serious, serious emergency! I have to get outta here! I promise, on the souls of my forefathers, I will get you the stickers when I come back! I will get you extra if you just let me go! [Mike ignores him; angrily] FINE! FINE! You’re gonna make me walk back and get the stickers?! I will walk back and get the stickers!
I’m not making you do anything. Those are the rules.
[still angry] Hey, whatever helps you sleep at night.
[Jimmy sees Mike not paying attention, so he reaches over and presses the button in the booth which raises the cross arm. It goes up and Jimmy drives away fast]
SCREW YOU, GEEZER!
I called the Kettlemans after I hung up with you, I gave them a warning call.
A warning call?
Yeah, I was worried that my guy Varga was going after their money. And he was. He was gonna rip them off. I deduced it from a conversation that we had. It was lawyer to client, so there was, you know, confidentiality issues. But I called the Kettlemans anonymously to warm them.
Anonymously? You didn’t – Oh, god, you didn’t–you didn’t do the sex-robot voice, did you?
I did, with the tube and whole thing, which probably scared the living shit out of them, and they took off, which, you know, file that under “unintended consequence,” but you–you believe me now?
Um...
Great. Now we have to find them. I mean—Or better yet, get the cops to let Varga go because right now my ass is on the highway to the danger zone.
Well, why are you in danger?
Nacho Varga, he didn’t kidnap the family. But he’s a bad guy. He’s a very bad guy. And if the cops keep pushing him, they’re gonna find something. And when that happens, Nacho blames me, and then his guys turn me into a meat piñata.
Jimmy, tell the police.
No, there’s–there’s no way I’m gonna rat on this guy. I will never be safe. No, I have to convince the cops that I’m right, get them to stop looking at Nacho, and catch the Kettlemans on the run.
And if they never catch them?
The Kettlemans? Well, you have met these people, right? They’re–They’re not exactly masterminds, right? They will be caught if the cops are looking for them. So tell them to, would you? The FBI, too. I heard they’re getting in on this.
Why would the FBI listen to me?
Well, Hamlin—They’ll listen to him, right? APD, at least. You–You talk to Howard. You explain things to him. He has clout with these people. [Kim sighs] What? Is–Is that a no or...
Hamlin will never agree to it. The Kettlemans are our clients. This would mean incriminating them.
Oh, you–you see? That’s why people hate lawyers.
It’s Hamlin’s call, and Hamlin will never agree. And even if it were up to me, you know I couldn’t. I’m sorry. I just...
I get it. [turns and leaves]
Where are you going?
I’m gonna go talk to Nacho. I’ll try to make him see reason. To beg!
Hey, hold up. How come you let me off the hook back there?
I'm going back to work. Why don't you quit while you're ahead and go on your way?
No, I refuse to believe it's because you have something resembling a heart inside your body.
You're not gonna have a heart inside your body in about five seconds.
Okay, don't tell me. I already know why you did it.
Yeah? Why's that?
'Cause you believe me. That family kidnapped themselves.
Alright, I believe you.
I knew it! I knew it! Finally, someone believes me! Wh-Why do you believe me?
I heard the details, your story makes sense.
Of course it does! Devil's advocate -- like the cops said, uh, the Kettlemans' cars are still at their house, there's no record of them leaving, h-how'd they get out of the country?
They didn't. Odds are they didn't get out of the neighborhood.
Wh-- What, they... Come again?
Look, when I was still on the job back in Philly, we had this case...
Whoa, hold up, hold up now, wait... "On the job," as in you were a cop, "on the job"?
This bookie disappeared after the Super Bowl. Cowboys-Steelers? Took $6 million in bets and skipped town when things didn't go his way. Now, everybody thought he was on the beach in the Bahamas or dead in the Jersey Pine Barrens -- wasn't the case. He was two doors down from where he lived, in a foreclosed house. Hid there for six months without anyone suspecting.
But... But why? Why not run?
That's what everybody expects. It's human nature to want to stay close to home. And if this Kettleman figured out how to do it, that's what he did. Nobody wants to leave home.
These quotes come from Wikiquote's Better Call Saul pages and are available under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License.