Dude, you are tripping! I'm not dead! I'm on the Starship Enterprise macking on Yeoman Rand while the Andorian with the disrupter's back on Talos IV or whatever.
What do you think all those sparkles and shit are? Transporters are breaking you apart right down to your molecules and bones. They're makin' a copy. That dude who comes out on the other side? He's not you. He's a color Xerox.
So you're telling me every time Kirk went into the transport he was killing himself? So over the whole series, there was, like, 147 Kirks?
At least! Dude, yo, why do you think McCoy never likes to beam nowhere?! 'Cause he's a doctor, bitch! Look it up, it's science!
Ever tell you about my Star Trek script?
Yeah! I gotta write it down is all. The Enterprise is five parsecs out of Rigel XII. Nothing's going on, Neutral Zone is quiet, the crew is bored, so they put on a pie-eating contest. The whole crew's in the galley. They're eating tulaberry pies–
Tulaberries. From Gamma Quadrant, yo.
Okay, blueberries, then! They're eating blueberry pies...
...as fast as the replicator can churn 'em out. [imitates replicator noise] Burdalurdalurp-pssst! Burdalurdalurp-pssst! Finally, it's down to just three: Kirk, Spock, and Chekov. Okay, Spock always wins these things.
How is Spock gonna beat Kirk, yo? Spock's like a toothbrush! Look at Kirk! He's got room to spare!
Spock has total Vulcan control over his digestion! You wanna hear this or not?
Okay, finally–Kirk, he can't take it anymore. He yorks. Now it's just down to Chekov and Spock. But Chekov, y'see, he's got a whole fat stack of quatloos riding on this. And he has figured out a way to win. He's got Scotty back in the transporter room locked in on Chekov's stomach. Every time Chekov eats a pie, Scotty beams it right out of him.
Where is he sending them, the toilet?
There's blueberries just floating out there frozen–because it's in space–and Chekov is just shoveling them into his mouth, and–and Spock is like, "I can't believe this Russian is defeating me!" Meanwhile, Scotty's in the transporter room fiddling with levers when Lieutenant Uhura comes in and she's got, y'know, her big pointies, and Scotty's fingers are all sweaty.
Chekov screams, he sprays blood out of his mouth...
...Scotty beamed his guts into space!
So, uh, how is the maestro? Things have been quiet on this end.
Just as well. Probably. That whole thing in the jails, y'know... When they start to whack the lawyers, that's when I draw the line.
[pointing to bags of money] This... goes to Kaylee Ehrmantraut and that goes to Mr. and Mrs. Albert Sharp. 315 East Pueblo. It's up in White Horse. It's two and a half million each, total of five.
...Uh, Mr. and Mrs. ah, who?
Drew Sharp. That's the kid on TV, the missing...? Why would you–Scratch that. Heh, I don't know and I don't wanna know. Uh, the thing is, what those folks want is to know what happened to their boy. A sack full of cash on their doorstep, that's just gonna raise more questions. Kaylee Ehrmantraut, that's Mike's granddaughter? So this is Mike's money?
It's your money? Okay, and you're giving it to Kaylee Ehrmantraut?
So you and Mike, uh... you've been in touch? [Jesse shakes his head] So we're just talking about charity? Yeah? Okay, look, you know, um, shelling out money to the ex and her little boy, I kind of get it–I mean, kind of–but this, this is a bridge too far. I'm sorry to say, kid, but you're still gonna be two miracles short of sainthood. Heh.
[Jesse looks despondent]
Brass tacks, okay? My job is to advise and my advice is: Come on, already. Mike left one step ahead of the boys in blue. You better believe his family's on the radar. A couple million bucks shows up, they're gonna snatch it tout suite! The feds have already taken Kaylee's money twice! What, are you going for a hat trick?!
I'll freaking do it myself, Saul.
No, no, no, no! I was just–I was thinking out loud!
Enough bullshit, Saul! Are you going to do this or not?
Yes, yes, absolutely! I live to serve!
[Jesse starts leaving Saul's office]
Hey, kid, you might wanna think about cleaning up a little, getting some rest. You've looked better.
Deja vu, huh? Jesus... alright, look. [tosses money bags on table] You wanna talk me through this? What you were thinking? What you asked Saul to do? I mean, come on... it's just nonsensical. Do you- do you have any explanation at all?
It's like you said. It–it's blood money.
I sa–? Jesus. Okay, yes, alright, I said that. I did... but it was in the heat of the moment. I was trying to win an argument, alright? And I was wrong. This is your money! Come on, you've earned it!
[Jesse stares off into the distance. Walter sits on the couch]
Drew Sharp. That is a terrible memory, no doubt about it... but son, you need to stop focusing on the darkness behind you. The past is the past. Nothing can change what we've done. But now, that's over. You're out, and so am I. [Jesse gives him an incredulous look] That's right. I'm done. I've been out for about a month, but there is nothing left for us to do except to try to live... ordinary, decent lives. [takes off his glasses] Why Kaylee Ehrmantraut?
She needs someone looking after her.
Mike is perfectly capable of looking after his own granddaughter.
...I don't think so. I don't think he is capable. I don't think he's coming back.
You doing what you did? Offing Mike's guys? If he was out there, you'd have to look over your shoulder for the rest of your life, and that's not how you do things. So, I think he's dead, and... I think you know that.
I don't know that. I don't. Listen to me: I did not kill Mike. The last time I saw him, he had his bag–the one that I brought him–and he got into his car, and he drove away and for all I know, he's alive and well. And if... if he does come back, and he doesn't understand why I had to do what I did... well then, that's on me. Jesse. I need you to believe this. It's not true. It's just not.
...So he's out there? He's okay?
Yes. Mike is fine, wherever he is. We both know that he can take care of himself, and he's certainly capable to provide for his own family. Okay? Jesse. I need you to believe me.
[beat] Yeah. Like you said. He's alive.
Yeah. Mike's alive. Absolutely.
[Jesse looks away contemptuously]
Well, it’s good to see you up and about.
Well, you know. I’ve been better, but... I don’t know.
Have you... Did you get to see a doctor? I mean, when one of these things last more than three days, you really should get that checked.
Yeah, no, I... I did and I’m fine. I’m, uh... I’m what they say on the upswing, you know?
Um... Good, good to hear.
When I heard you weren’t going in to work, I... Well, looks like you have the work coming to you. Perks of being the boss, huh?
Yeah, you know. How’s, uh... How’s things at the car wash?
Good. Yeah, really good. Hey, did you have any of that potato salad?
I don’t know. Maybe. Yeah, I mean...
No one else got sick, so you probably shouldn’t worry about it. Well, Skyler will be very happy to hear that you’re felling better. Which reminds me, I better get back to it. If there’s anything I can do... [Hank nods] Feel better.
[Walter pats Hank’s back. Then Walter slowly walks out of the garage, stops and turns around.]
You know. You're going to laugh, but I have to ask you... about this.
[Walter holds up the GPS tracker to Hank's face.]
Believe it or not, I found this on my car. I mean, it looks just like the GPS tracker that we used on Gus Fring, doesn't it? Back when we were tracking him, just the two of us. You wouldn't know anything about this, would you, Hank?
[Hank closes the garage door]
You okay? I gotta say, I don't like the way you're looking at me right now.
[After a beat, Hank punches Walt in the face and knocks him over a pile of boxes. He slams Walt against the garage door.]
It was you. All along, it was you! You son of a bitch. You drove me into traffic to keep me from that laundry.
That call I got telling me Marie was in the hospital? That wasn't Pinkman. You had my cell number. You killed ten witnesses to save your sorry ass.
You bombed a nursing home. Heisenberg. Heisenberg! You lying, two-faced sack of shit!
Hank, look... I don't–I don't know where this is coming from Hank, but—
I swear to Christ, I will put you under the jail.
Let's take a breath, okay? Just listen to yourself. These wild accusations, they could destroy our family! And for what?
Don't you give me shit about family!
[beat] Hank, my cancer is back.
Good. Rot, you son of a bitch.
I'm sorry you feel that way. I wanna beat this thing. I do. I’m back on chemo, and I am fighting like hell. But the truth is in six months you won’t have someone to prosecute. But even–even if somehow you were able to convince anyone I was capable of doing these things, you and I both know I would never see the inside of a jail cell. I’m a dying man who runs a car wash. My right hand to God, that is all that I am. What’s the point?
Have Skyler bring the kids here, and then we’ll talk.
That is not going to happen.
I don't know who you are. I don't even know who I'm talking to.
If that's true–if you don't know who I am–then maybe your best course would be to tread lightly.
