[Walter enters Tuco's office, as he examines a sample of the pound of meth Walter brought with him]
Heisenberg. Okay. Have a seat, Heisenberg.
I don't imagine I'll be here very long.
No? Alright, be that way. It's your meeting. Why don't you start talking and tell me what you want?
[laughs] Oh, man! Fifty G's? How you figure that?
Thirty-five for the pound of meth you stole and another fifteen for my partner's pain and suffering.
Partner? [puts a cigarette out on his tongue] Oh, yeah! I remember that little bitch! So you must be daddy. [bursts out laughing] Let me get this straight: I steal your dope, I beat the piss out of your mule boy, and then you walk in here, and you bring me more meth?! [laughs hysterically] Woo! That's a brilliant plan, esé.
You got one part of that wrong. [reaches out and picks up the crystal Tuco had examined] This... is not meth.
[Walter throws the piece to the floor. The impact causes a tremendous explosion which knocks everyone off their feet and blows out all the windows in Tuco's office. Walter grabs the bag in the midst of the smoke.]
[holding the bag threateningly over his head] You wanna find out?
[Tuco's men get to their feet and draw their guns]
No-Doze, Gonzo, calma! Calma. Calma. You got balls, I'll give you that. Alright... alright. I'll give you your money.
[Tuco opens his safe and hands Walter a sack filled with $50,000.]
That crystal your partner brought me, it sold faster than $10 ass in T.J. What say you bring me another pound next week?
Alright. Money up front. Sometimes you got to rob to keep your riches, just as long as we got an understanding.
One pound is not going to cut it. You have to take two.
Orale. [points to Walter's bag] Hey, what is that shit?
Fulminated mercury, and a little tweak of chemistry.
[Walter and Jesse are meeting Tuco at a junkyard]
A junkyard? Let me guess, you picked this place?
What's wrong with it? It's private.
This is... This is like a... a non-criminal's idea of a drug meet. This is like, "Oh, I saw this in a movie. Ooh, look at me."
Yeah, so... so where do you transact business? Enlighten me.
I don't know. How about Taco Cabeza? Half the deals I've ever done went down at Taco Cabeza. Nice and public. Open twenty-four hours. Nobody ever gets shot at Taco Cabeza. Hell, why not the mall? You know, wait at the Gap. "Hey! It's time for the meet!" You know, I'll put down the flat-front khakis, head on over, grab an Orange Julius. Skip the part where psycho lunatic Tuco, you know, comes and steals my drugs and leaves me bleeding to death.
[Tuco pulls up in his Escalade. Jesse fidgets]
Look, you don't have to be here for this, okay? I mean, seriously. I'm okay.
Nah, I'm no pussy. I'm good.
[Tuco and his henchmen get out]
Mr. Clean and his boy. [to Jesse] Now, I'm sorry I had to tune you up. Respect, ese. You gotta give it to get it. [looks around] Hey, what are we doing way the hell out here? What, they close the mall or something? [Jesse glances at Walter] Heisenberg, come on, break it out. [Walter takes out a bag of meth] That's it? That's all you got?
We had some production problems.
NDNo-Doze
[weighing the meth] Point five three.
I thought you was a player. You told me two pounds, and now you waste my time with these chiclets? [tosses Walter his money] Seventeen-and-a-half, minus the half for wasting my time.
What?! You gonna argue?! You got something to say?! [pause] You're doing business like a couple little bitches.
I want all of it. [everyone stares at him] Seventy grand.
You like this product, and you want more. Consider it a capital investment.
[gets in Walt's face] Look, old bald motherfucker. Fifty-two and a half, 25 points vig.
[Tuco looks at Jesse]
...Okay. That's $65,625 with interest. 1.875 pounds.
No. Two pounds. Next Friday, and no production problems.
Can you handle four pounds?
[Tuco and Jesse look at Walter in disbelief]
Listen, old man. Talk is talk, but owing me money... that's bad.
[Smoking some illicit Cuban cigars]
It's funny, isn't it? How we draw that line.
Well, what's legal, what's illegal. You know, Cuban cigars, alcohol. You know, if we were drinking this in 1930, we'd be breaking the law. Another year, we'd be okay. Who knows what will be legal next year.
Yeah. Like pot. Or whatever.
I'm just saying it's arbitrary.
Well, you ought to visit lockup. You hear a lot of guys talking like that. "Hey, man, what you busting me with these 14 bales of ganja? It's all going to be legal next year when Willie Nelson's president." Say it, buddy. It don't only go one way either. I mean, some other stuff is legal that shouldn't be. I mean, frigging meth used to be legal. Used to sell it over every counter at every pharmacy across America. Thank God they came to their senses on that one, huh?
No, not really. Heh, actually not at all. You know that, uh, tiara that Marie gave us?
Well, she stole it. Yep, I practically got arrested trying to return it at the store.
I mean, she refuses to admit it. She refuses to apologize. I–I don't know what to do.
Hm... people sometimes do things for their families.
"People sometimes do things for their families"? And, what, that justifies stealing?
Wow, that must have been some sweat lodge. Are you even listening to the words coming out of your mouth?
What would you do if it were me?
What do you mean, "if it were you"?
If it were me, what would you do? Would you divorce me, would you turn me in to the police?
You don't want to find out.
[Walter and Jesse meet Tuco and his men at the junkyard with their new meth]
What is this shit? This is blue.
We used a different chemical process, but it is every bit as pure.
It may be blue, but it's the bomb.
[snorts meth] Tight! Tight, tight, yeah! Oh, blue, yellow, pink, whatever, man! Just keep bringing me that! [he hands the bag of meth to No Doze, and gives Walter a bag of cash]
NDNo-Doze
[weighing the bag of meth] Four point six.
[working out the value of the excess in his head] Uh… Come on. [Gonzo gives two more clips of money to Walter and Jesse] What did I say, man? This guy can cook! You're alright, man. You're alright. We're going to make a lot of money together.
NDNo-Doze
[with a lot of attitude] Just remember who you're working for.
[angered, he turns and faces him] What did you say?
NDNo-Doze
I'm just saying they got to know that they're working for you.
Like they don't already know that? Are you saying they're stupid?
NDNo-Doze
No, I'm just...I'm just saying.
Oh yeah, so you're not saying they're stupid. So I don't understand. Are you saying that I'm stupid?
NDNo-Doze
No, come on, Tuco. I'm just... I'm just saying.
No, you're just speaking for me! Like I ain't got the GODDAMN SENSE TO SPEAK FOR MYSELF! Is that it? Is that what you're doing?
Tuco. Tuco, hey, why don't we just all relax, huh?
[laughs] Heisenberg says "relax". Orale, homes. I'm relaxed. I'm relaxed. I'm relaxed-
[Tuco punches No-Doze in the face. Tuco proceeds to punch him over and over while he is on the ground, leaving him bloody and possibly dead]
[showing off his bloody knuckles] WOOO! Damn, man! Look at that! Look! Yeah, that's messed up. [inhales] Okay, Heisenberg! Next week. [chuckles]
[Tuco and Gonzo drive off with No-Doze's bloody body. Walter and Jesse look at each other in horror]
Adjusting for inflation—good state college—adjusting for inflation, say $45,000 a year, two kids, four years of college...$360,000. Remaining mortgage on the home, $107,000. Home equity line, $30,000, that's $137,000. Cost of living, food, clothing, utilities—say, two grand a month? I mean, that should put a dent in it, anyway. 24K a year provides for, say, ten years. That's $240,000, plus 360 plus 137...seven thirty-seven. $737,000, that's what I need. That is what I need. You and I both clear about 70 grand a week. That's only ten and a half more weeks. Call it eleven. Eleven more drug deals and always in a public place from now on. It's doable. Definitely doable.
Oh, we are dead. Dead men! Muerto, or muerte, or however the hell you...Jesus...
Conjecture, yes. And conjecture isn't helping.
Oh, my conjecture isn't helping?
Could you just state the facts?
Alright, fine, facts in. Fact A: My phone rang like eight times last night. Dead air, hang-ups every time. Second fact? Like three in the morning, I saw that black Caddy of his cruising my neighborhood. No headlights.
No, if he wanted to kill us, he would have done it at the junkyard.
What is that? Conjecture? Are you basing that on that he's got a normal, healthy brain or something? Did you not see him beat a dude to death for, like, nothing? And that way–that way he just kept staring at us. Saying, "You're done." You're done?! You wanna know what that means? I will tell you what that means! That means exactly how it sounds, yo! Alright, we are witnesses, we are loose ends! Right now, Tuco's thinking, "Yeah, hey, they cook good meth, but can I trust them?" What happens when he decides, "no"?
[Jesse is explaining how he will kill Tuco]
Alright, say we set up one last sale–this is providing he doesn't decide to waste us before then. Now every time we bring in a new batch, he always tests the product, right? So... as his head is down, y'know giving it a snort, just: Pop, pop, pop!
Pop, pop, pop? So, three shots?
Yeah, three shots, or I dunno, two?
No, wait—So, is it two or is it three?
I mean, two would probably work, I guess, yeah.
Okay, two shots. Two shots in the chest, two shots in the face? What?
No, I am just trying to understand how this works! [pause] Okay. Alright, we'll put a pin in that—but by now, the big guy, Gonzo, he's probably coming at you, right?
Right, so you turn towards him...
...and then, how many shots for him? I mean, he's a big guy, right? How many shots does that take?
I dunno, three? Three shots?
Okay, three shots. Okay, Tuco and Gonzo, two men down... Now, is there anyone else there? I mean, Tuco is usually with someone else, right? Maybe even a couple of guys, his- his dealers, his posse? [Jesse is unable to answer] Alright. So, we'll put a pin in that one, too. Now at this point, how many shots have been fired? I mean, you've gotta be running low, right? How many bullets does that gun even take?
[Jesse tries to open the gun to check, but is unable to do so, and eventually puts it down in defeat]
How can you suggest that we kill a man and you can't even open the gun? It's not that easy, is it?
Hey, man, Walt... You did it.
Look, it's got five bullets. I finally figured out how to... [struggles to open the gun]Look, I just finally... [gets it open] I figured it out. I say we get a second gun. Right? For you? I mean, don't we like double our chances? I mean, mathematically?
Oh, thank God! Alright, what is it, Mr. White? Lay it on me.
[holds up a small bag of...] Beans.
So what are we gonna do with them? Are we just gonna grow a magic beanstalk, huh? Climb it and escape?
We are going to process them into ricin.
[rolls his eyes] Ricin. It's an extremely effective poison. It's toxic in small doses. Also fairly easy to overlook during an autopsy.
[slaps Jesse's hand away from the beans] Don't touch them!
Seriously? You can get poisoned from beans?
Yes. Back in the late ‘70s, ricin was used to assassinate a Bulgarian journalist. The KGB modified the tip of an umbrella to inject a tiny pellet into the man’s leg. And we’re talking about an amount not much bigger than the head of a pin.
Oh, yes. Now, we just need to figure out a delivery device. And then, no more Tuco.
Last two days, I couldn’t get Gonzo on the phone. He’s been acting all pouty on account of No Doze. Explain to me. How is it my fault that that little bitch did not know his place? [pause] I saw this coming. I can see the future, you know? It’s this gift that I have deep inside my head. I knew last night they were gonna come try and bust me. Gonzo...he went and snitched to the cops! That LOUSY SON OF A BITCH! I TRUSTED HIM LIKE A BROTHER! [grabs knife] I WAS GOOD TO HIM! I WAS GOOD!!!! I see Gonzo, [starts stabbing the table with the knife] I'M GONNA GUT HIM, I'M GONNA SKIN HIM, AND I'M GONNA STUFF HIS HIDE FOR A HEAVY BAG!!!!!!! And every time I hit him, it's gonna be like a lesson to myself! YOU NEVER, NEVER TRUST THE PEOPLE THAT YOU LOVE!
[long pause] So, you plan to, uh, ice Gonzo, like...future tense?
You're saying, Tuco... You're saying Gonzo is currently operating as a police informant as far as you know? [Tuco nods] I'm very sorry to hear that. That's disappointing.
Yeah. I would waste him, too, yo.
[Walter and Jesse lament over their failed attempt at poisoning Tuco with a meth sample laced with ricin]
Chili powder. Did I not already tell you how moronic that was?
Whatever, man. At least I tried something. Hey, it almost worked, too. How's about you leaving my gun, huh? First you boost it, then you leave it in your house. My gun.
How was I supposed to know you were chauffeuring Tuco to my doorstep?
Well, at least he wants you alive.
Think, think. Let's just bum rush him, man. You know, you crack him over the head with something and I'll go for his gun.
Crack him over the head with something? [sarcastically holds up a fly swatter]
You got the C, man, alright? You're as good as checked out already, okay? You should be all like sacrificial, jumping on a grenade, yo. Just...
Oh, so my life is not the priority here because I'm gonna be dead soon anyway? That's your point?
