Yeah, that's... embarrassingly, that's it. Y'know, it's just upset stomach and everything. It's out of control... really explosive. Bad Tex-Mex at the mall.
Shut your mouth! You shut your mouth or I'll shut it for you. I don't want you talking to me or Jesse. Just get the barrel. And if you ever plan on calling the cops on one of my guys again, you go ahead and get two barrels.
I have invited you into my home, prepared food, so we could sit and talk. Discuss what's going on in this business. Our business. Like men. And I will explain everything that's happening. I will answer your questions. But first, I need you to answer one question for me: Can you cook Walter's formula?
No. Why? You asking me if I can cook Mr. White's crystal without him? Me? The junkie loser you were about to waste and dump in the desert a month ago? This your plan, huh? Invite me to your house and make whatever the fuck this is? Be my buddy and make me feel important? Then get me to keep cooking for you after you kill Mr. White? You wanna talk like men? Let's talk like men: You kill Mr. White, you're gonna have to kill me, too!
That is not what I asked you. You are here because circumstances with the cartel are untenable and I need your help. I need you to help prevent an all-out war. Now, if you would answer the question. Can you cook Walter's formula?
