Breaking Bad · Season 3
[Skyler has concocted an elaborate lie involving gambling addiction to convince Marie to let her and Walt pay for Hank's medical expenses.]
How did you come up with that? I mean, where did you possibly...?
I learned from the best. Somehow, something tells me Hank is here because of you. And I'm not forgetting that.
There's been a contamination.
Wait, what? Whoa, hey, hold up!
Something got into the lab.
So, uh, what do we do? I mean, do we... Wait, wait! Shouldn't we be wearing masks?
No, no, it's not that kind of contaminant.
So it's, like, not dangerous? Mr. White, talk to me here!
Not to us, particularly, no.
[noticing Walter's homemade fly swatter] What the hell is that?
This is, uh, I made it.
Exactly what kind of contaminant are we dealing with here?
...Fly.
What do you mean? Fly, like...like what do you mean?
I mean, a fly. A housefly.
Like, uh, one fly? Singular? What'd it do?
It got into the lab and I'm trying to get it out, okay? Understand?
No, man, not really. I can't say that I'm really following you here. Dude, you scared the shit out of me! When you say it's contamination, I'm thinking like an Ebola leak or something!
[scoffs] Ebola?!
Yeah, it's a disease on the Discovery Channel where all your intestines sort of just slip right out of your butt!
Thank you, I know what Ebola is.
Uh-huh.
Now tell me, what would a West African virus be doing in our lab, hm?
So you're chasing around a fly, and in your world, I'm the idiot?
Jesse, listen. This fly–or any other fly, for that matter–cannot be in our lab. [overlooks Jesse from under his glasses] Do you understand, Jesse? It's a problem. It's a contamination, and that is in no way a misuse of the word, "contamination."
Okay, look, we're running late, so let's just get started. The sooner we do it, the sooner we're done.
Frickin' finally.
[Jesse grabs a sack and just as he's about to put in the tank, Walt stops him]
What are you doing?
It's time to alkaline.
Have you not heard a word I said? No cooking until this fly is dealt with. Have I been speaking to myself?
The timer went off, yo! How long is this batch gonna be good for? An hour? Two?
The batch will be good for nothing if we don't clear the contaminant.
"Clear the contaminant?!" We're making meth here, alright? Not space shuttles!
We're making nothing until we catch this fly.
What fly? Alright? Where the hell is this fly? Not like I even seen this thing! Maybe your positive pressure blew it out the door or something.
No, no. It is here. It is around, okay? He's around, and I'm not going to expose this batch to the open air and contamination, period. Now, you can leave to deal with this myself or you can help me. But you're right, we're running out of time. So I need you to answer right now. [Jesse drops the sack and walks off] Okay.
Did you know that there's an acceptable level of rat turds that can go into candy bars? It's the government, jack. Even government doesn't care that much about quality. You know what is okay to put in hot dogs? Huh? Pig lips and assholes. But I say, "Hey, have at it bitches," 'cause I love hot dogs.
I've been to my oncologist, Jesse. Just last week. I'm still in remission. I'm healthy.
That's good. Great.
No end in sight.
That's great.
No. I missed it. There was some perfect moment that passed me right by, but I had to have enough to leave them. That was the whole point. None of this makes any sense if I didn't have enough. And it had to be before she found out. Skyler. It had to be before that.
Perfect moment? For what? To drop dead? Are you saying you want to die?
I'm saying that I lived too long. You want them to actually miss you. You want their memories of you to be... but she just won't.. .she just won't understand. I mean, no matter how well I explain it, these days she just has this.. .this... I mean, I truly believe there exists some combination of words. There must exist certain words in a certain specific order that can explain all of this, but with her I just can't ever seem to find them.
Mr. White, why don't you just sit down.
You know, I was thinking before the fugue state, but during the fugue state I didn't have enough money, so no, not then. And plus my daughter wasn't born yet. It had to be after Holly was born.
Mr. White...
Definitely before the surgery. Ah Christ, that damn second cell phone. I mean, how could I possibly? [pause] Oh, I know the moment. It was the night Jane died. I was at home and we needed diapers and so I said I'd go, but it was just an excuse. Actually that was the night I brought you your money, remember?
Yeah. I remember.
And afterward I stopped at a bar. It was odd, I never do that–go to a bar alone. I just walked in, sat down. I never told you.
You went to a bar?
I sit down and this man, this stranger, he engages me in conversation. He's a complete stranger. But he turns out to be Jane's father, Donald Margolis.
What are you talking about?
Of course I didn't know it at the time. I mean, he's just some guy in a bar. I just didn't put it together until after the crash when he was all over the news.
Jane's dad?
Think of the odds. Once I tried to calculate them, but they're astronomical. I mean, think of the odds of me going in and sitting down that night, in that bar, next to that man.
What'd you talk about?
Water on Mars. Family.
What about family?
I told him that I had a daughter and he told me he had one, too. And he said, "Never give up on family." And I didn't. I took his advice. My God, the universe is random. It's not inevitable; it's simple chaos. It's subatomic particles and endless pings, collision–that's what science teaches us. What does this say? What is it telling us that the very night that this man's daughter dies, it's me who is having a drink with him? I mean, how could that be random?
[Walter stumbles, starting to succumb to the sleeping pills]
Hey, sit down.
No, no, it's, uh... Oh, that was the moment. That night. I should never have left home. Never gone to your house. Maybe things would have... Oh, I was... I was at home watching TV. Some nature program about elephants... and Skyler and Holly were in another room. I can hear them on the baby monitor. She was singing a lullaby. Oh, if I had just lived right up to that moment... and not one second more... That would have been perfect.
Jesse. Come here. I couldn't chance saying it inside, for all I know the lab's wired for sound. That half a pound that I said we were off by? Now I'm not accusing you, but if–you understand–if they ever found out...
I didn't take shit.
I'm just saying that I won't be able to protect you.
Who's asking you to?
You can do this, Hank. Come on. It's supposed to hurt. Pain is weakness leaving your body.
Pain is my foot in your ass, Marie.
Hey, if you could get your leg up that high, I say go for it.
Alright, just wanted to give you a heads up, it's gonna get a little slower smuggling product with Grandpa Anus watching every move I make. Don't worry, I'll keep it flowing.
Right on.
Yeah.
So how's it selling? Mad volume?
Yeah, it's, uh... y'know, it's, uh... It's not so good.
What do you mean? How much have you sold?
I sold a teenth.
One teenth? That's it? To who?
[motions to Skinny Pete] To him. It's not easy selling to these people. They're trying to better themselves.
Yeah. There's, like, positivity and stuff goin' on here.
I'm out risking my ass to get product for you two, and you're too pussy to sell? You're pathetic. You know what? I want it back. All of it. I'll sell it myself.
Come on, man. Don't be like that. Selling to these people, it's like shooting a baby in the face. It's not natural.
Hello. Welcome. What a pleasure it is to have you. Just gonna call you Skyler if that's okay. It's a lovely name. It reminds me of the big, beautiful sky. Walter always told me how lucky he was, prior to recent unfortunate events. Clearly his taste in women is the same as his taste in lawyers: Only the very best with just the right amount of dirty.
[Walter and Saul are in the parking lot of Bogdan's car wash while they discuss their plan to buy it as part of Skyler's money laundering scheme]
How come you guys always give away the air freshener, huh? I explicitly say I want no air freshener, and every time I drive away smelling like an alpine whorehouse. All due respect, I don't see...I–I vote no.
It makes a better story than your laser tag.
[referring to Skyler] Is that you talking or Yoko Ono?
She has a point. It makes more sense that I invest right here.
Based on her years of experience in money laundering, I suppose. Let me tell you something. If you're committed enough, you can make any story work. I once convinced a woman that I was Kevin Costner, and it worked because I believed it. Alright, it has nothing to do with the story. Besides, this dump isn't gonna work because it doesn't have a Danny. There's no Danny here.
What in God's name is a Danny?
Danny runs the laser tag. Danny is the guy who had a vision. Where others saw a dirt lot, he saw...black lights, rubber aliens, teenagers running around with ray guns. Right? It was like Bugsy Siegel in the desert. And when the stock market took a shit, and Danny got into trouble, he went searching for exactly the type of situation that we're offering. Danny will look the other way to keep his dream afloat. In other words, Danny can be trusted completely! [points at Bogdan] That guy–the guy with the eyebrows that won't quit–is he a Danny? You buy this place, all you got is a big building that squirts water. You got no Danny here.
Walter, I would like to help you if I could.
Help me how?
Well, when I first started out, I made a lot of mistakes. More than I care to admit. I wish I had someone to advise me, because this life of ours, it can overwhelm. You are a wealthy man now, and one must learn to be rich. To be poor, anyone can manage.
What advice do you have for me?
Never make the same mistake twice.
[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.
I'm just not buying it.
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.
That's jail.
[Walter is tending to Holly when he gets a late night visit from Mike]
What can I do for you?
Have a seat, Walter. I spoke to Goodman about Pinkman and this plan of yours.
And?
I'm not gonna do it.
Why?
Because it's moronic.
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.
Saul?
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.
What is?
[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?
No.
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".
Just... just a warning?
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.
These quotes come from Wikiquote's Breaking Bad pages and are available under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License.
