[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.
[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.
Hey, come on.
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.
What did you say?
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.
Vig?
[Tuco looks at Jesse]
Interest. Weekly.
...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.
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