[Walter and Jesse discuss the situation about Combo's killers at a bar]
Combo was us, man. He was one of us. Does that mean nothing?
Why didn't you go after these guys two or three months ago?
'Cause I just found out about them.
What's to find out? It's a dispute over turf, right? I mean, how hard could it have been for you to track them down on their turf and kill them months ago? Because back then you were too busy getting high, feeling sorry. Murder is not part of your twelve-step program. This is not some amends that you have to make. What you are talking about here is pointless. This achieves nothing. It accomplishes nothing.
If you don't see what it accomplishes, there is no way I can explain it you.
Jesse, listen to me: You are not a murderer. I am not and you are not. It's as simple as that. [Jesse gets up to leave] Jesse...
I'm doing it... with or without you.
Have you thought anymore about what we discussed?
"Thought anymore", meaning reconsidered? No.
So, show me the flaw in it.
Flaws, Skyler. Flaws. Plural, not singular. Where do you want me to start?
Hey, I don't love this situation that you put me in. However, let's just stick with what makes sense here. You took the money you won gambling invested it in the car wash you helped run. You hired your wife as a bookkeeper, because she's actually a bookkeeper. That is a story an auditor can believe. What am I missing?
You should just take this money that I give you and not look too closely at it. So if God forbid, I get caught, you maintain plausible deniability.
Okay, my estranged husband who, when he was working made $43,000 a year, starts shoveling money at me. And when the police come, I'm supposed to say: "I never thought about it, officers. Made sense to me.” Really? That, in your mind, is plausible deniability? I'll tell you what, Walt. I'd rather have them think I'm Bonnie what's-her-name than some complete idiot.
So you're promoting caution here. [sighs] And you want a believable story. That, it seems to me, is the safest way to make the best out of a very bad situation, yes. But I'm noting a little hole in your plot, though. Why would your estranged husband be doing all this for you?
Because he loves his family and desperately wants a reconciliation, though it may be hopeless and futile. Then again, he'd try anything.
No, I think it would be better if the husband were no longer estranged. You know, maybe if he were back sleeping in his own bed.
[Walter talks with Saul about options to keep Jesse from killing the dealers who killed Combo]
Maybe... What if we, uh... maybe... could you get him arrested?
You want your criminal associate taken into police custody?
No, listen, I know it sounds risky, but it wouldn't be anything that would get him into real trouble, nothing that could lead back to our business. Just some minor offense.
Pinkman in jail. I dunno, I'm picturing it...
Not jail, as in jail jail. I'm talking about one of those situations when you're in an orange jumpsuit picking up litter along the highway.
[Walter is tending to Holly when he gets a late night visit from Mike]
Have a seat, Walter. I spoke to Goodman about Pinkman and this plan of yours.
Saul said you've done things like this before.
That's not the moronic part.
Okay, so what's the problem?
The problem is the boss wouldn't like it.
My boss. Your boss. This is a professional courtesy. No one knows I'm here, understand? But our employer would find out like always, and if Pinkman were arrested, he'd take it as a problem. Walt, you got a good thing going here. We all do. You want to risk it all on one junkie? Now I realize you two have a history, but this kid's been on the bubble a while now. It's a long time coming.
[chuckles] Um... I used to be a beat cop, long time ago. And I'd get called out on domestic disputes all the time, hundreds probably over the years. But there was this one guy, this one piece of shit, that I will never forget: Gordy. He looked like Bo Svenson. You remember him? Walking Tall? You don't remember?
Anyway. Big boy; 270, 280. But his wife, or whatever she was, his lady, was real small. Like a bird, wrists like little branches. Anyway, my partner and I get called out there every weekend and one of us would pull her aside and say, "C'mon, tonight's the night we press charges." And this wasn't one of those 'deep down he really loves me' setups, we got a lot of those, but not this. This girl was scared. She wasn't gonna cross him no way, no how. Nothing we could do but pass her off to the EMTs, put him in the car, drive him downtown, throw him in the drunk tank. He sleeps it off, next morning out he goes, back home. But one night, my partner's out sick and it's just me. And the call comes in and it's the usual crap. Broke her nose in the shower kind of thing. So I cuff him, put him in the car and away we go. Only that night, we're driving into town, and this sideways asshole is in my backseat humming "Danny Boy". And it just rubbed me wrong. So instead of left, I go right, out into nowhere. And I kneel him down and I put my revolver in his mouth and I told him, "This is it. This is how it ends." And he's crying, going to the bathroom all over himself, swearing to God he's gonna leave her alone, screaming–much as you can with a gun in your mouth. And I told him to be quiet, that I needed to think about what I was gonna do here. And of course he got quiet. Goes still, and real quiet, like a dog waiting for dinner scraps. And we just stood there for a while: Me acting like I'm thinking things over, and Prince Charming kneeling in the dirt with shit in his pants. After a few minutes I took the gun out of his mouth and I say; "So help me if you ever touch her again I will such and such and such and such and blah-blah-blah-blah-blah".
Hmph. Of course. Just trying to do the right thing. But two weeks later he killed her. Of course. Caved her head in with the base of a Waring blender. We got there, there was so much blood you could taste the metal. The moral of the story is, I chose a half measure when I should have gone all the way. I'll never make that mistake again. [stands up] No more half measures, Walter.
[Gus has summoned Walt, Jesse, and the rival dealers to a meeting at the Los Pollos Hermanos distribution center]
Sit down. I understand that you have a problem with two of my employees. It is true that they killed one of your associates. It is possible they acted rashly, but on the other hand there was a provocation. The man was selling on their territory. There is blame on both sides. This will go no further. It will be settled right here, right now.
[to Walter] You told him?
[to the two dealers] Wait outside.
[The two dealers leave and Gus turns to Jesse]
Listen to me. You have one friend in this room. [points to Walter] This man. Those men outside are my trusted employees, and when I learned what you intended to do... If it wasn't for this man and the respect I have for him, I would be dealing with this in a very different way. Don't look at him, you look at me. This is what happens now: My men will come back inside and you will shake their hands and you will make peace and that will be the end of this.
[motions for Walter to be quiet] Pardon me?
They use kids. These assholes of yours, they got an 11-year old kid doing their killing for them. You're supposed to be some kind of reasonable business man, this is how you do business? [to Walter] You okay with this? You got anything to say here?!
Bring them back. [the two dealers come back inside] No more children. You understand? [to Jesse] And you, you keep the peace. [Jesse nods] Say it.
[Jesse and the two dealers shake hands]
