JESSE PINKMAN
Yo 148, 3-to-the-3-to-the-6-to-the-9. Representin’ the ABQ. What up, biatch? Leave it at the tone!
Four pounds... foooour pounds as if two pounds wasn't bad enough. we're talking two three hundred boxes of sinus pills there ain't that many Smurfs in the world. So no sudo? So you do have a plan! Yeah, Mr. White! Yeah, science!
Yo... it's appointment only! Jeez, you look like... Lex Luthor. I got two dudes turned into raspberry slushy and flushed down my toilet. I can't even take a proper dump in there. I mean the whole damn house has gotta be haunted by now.
You didn't actually see Tuco? You got this money from Tuco? Tuco gave you this is what you're saying? You made a deal? How... why would you make a deal with that scumbag? You see what he did to me? No way man, okay, no understanding! Without even talking to me, you told this... insane ass-clown, dead-eyed killer, that uh... that we would give him two pounds a week?
Don't talk to me about hours, what about sudo, man? How are we gonna get that? You think the meth fairy is gonna just bring it to us? God it takes me a week to get this stuff. I'm driving all the way up to Las Cruces, two hundred miles each way to meet up with my Smurfs. The dudes who go to the drug stores and get a couple boxes at a time and then sell 'em to me. And that's maybe only good for, like a half pound worth. See that's the bottle neck in your brilliant business plan. Of course you would've known that if you would've just asked me.
Oh c'mon, this is bullshit! I mean look at this dude, alright? He doesn't even know what planet he's living on! You ever, have like a wild animal trapped in your house? Opossum - big, freaky, lookin' bitch. Hey, since when did they change it to opossum? What's up with that? When I was comin' up it was just possum. Opossum makes it sound like he's Irish or something. Why do they gotta go changing everything?
Oh well, heil Hitler, bitch! And let me tell you something else. So what're you saying? Like, I shot someone with, like, a gun? We flipped a coin, okay? You and me. You and me! Coin flip is sacred! Your job is waiting for you in that basement, as per the coin!
I took this vo-tech class in high school, woodworking. I took a lot of vo-tech classes, because it was just big jerk-off, but this one time I had this teacher by the name of... Mr... Mr. Pike. I guess he was like a Marine or something before he got old. He was hard hearing. My project for his class was to make this wooden box. You know, like a small, just like a... like a box, you know, to put stuff in. So I wanted to get the thing done as fast as possible. I figured I could cut classes for the rest of the semester and he couldn't flunk me as long as I, you know, made the thing. So I finished it in a couple days. And it looked pretty lame, but it worked. You know, for putting in or whatnot. So when I showed it to Mr. Pike for my grade, he looked at it and said: 'Is that the best you can do?' At first I thought to myself 'Hell yeah, bitch. Now give me a D and shut up so I can go blaze one with my boys.' I don't know. Maybe it was the way he said it, but... it was like he wasn't exactly saying it sucked. He was just asking me honestly, 'Is that all you got?' And for some reason, I thought to myself: 'Yeah, man, I can do better.' So I started from scratch. I made another, then another. And by the end of the semester, by like box number five, I had built this thing. You should have seen it. It was insane. I mean, I built it out of Peruvian walnut with inlaid zebrawood. It was fitted with pegs, no screws, I sanded it for days, until it was smooth as glass. Then I rubbed all the wood with tung oil so it was rich and dark. It even smelled good. You know, you put nose in it and breathed in, it was... it was perfect.
I don't know. How about Taco Cabeza? Half the deals I've ever done went down at Taco Cabeza. Nice and public. Open 24 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.
What? Come on! Man, you're smart. You made poison out of beans, yo. Look, we got, we got an entire lab right here. Alright? How about you pick some of these chemicals and mix up some rocket fuel? That way you could just send up a signal flare. Or you make some kind of robot to get us help, or a homing device, or build a new battery, or... wait. No. What if we just take some stuff off of the RV and build it into something completely different? You know, like a... Like a dune buggy. That way, we can just dune buggy or... What? Hey? What is it? What?
This is glass grade. I mean, you got... Jesus, you got crystals in here 2 inches, 3 inches long. This is pure glass. You're a damn artist! This is art, Mr. White! Yeah, that's the thing, y'know? Your scumbag brother-in-law took my rainy day fund. Oh yeah. And tell that douche bag brother-in-law of yours to go towards the light.
Got something for me? Is this a five or an S? Jesus, how the hell do you spell street wrong - S T R E A T? Spooge. Not mad dog, not diesel... let me get this straight, you got jacked by a guy named Spooge?
Where's my money... bitch? WHERE'S my money. Where's my. Where's MY money, bitch? Huh? Bitch? Where's my money, bitch? Oh that's good... where's my money. Where's my money, bitch. Bitch, where's my money. I will mess you... up. That how you wanna play this? Huh, Your call, your funeral Jack. Hey, do not mess with me I will bury you cause I'm crazy. You know, yeah... mucho loco. Do not... test me.
Where's my money, bitch?! I ain't gonna keep asking nice. Yo, alright? I want my money and my dope. Come on! What, what! What do you wanna say? Shut up! Shut... up!
What business? The business you put me on, asshole! What, you already forgot? THIS business. Huh? That uh jog your memory, son of a bitch? Hey, you said... you said handle it, so you know what, I handled it. Didn't mean to kill somebody? Well, too late you know cause, dude's dead. Way dead. Oh, and hey, hey. Here's your money. Yeah, forty-six hundred and sixty bucks. Your half. Spend it in good health, you miserable son of bitch.
I didn't say I killed him. Dude's wife crushed his head with an ATM machine. Crushed his head... with an ATM machine... right in front of me. I mean, crushed it like... Oh my god, the sound... it's still in my ears. You know and the the blood, like everywhere. Like there was so much you would not believe. Man will you just please give me... just give me my weed alright? It helps with my nausea.
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"?
You either run from things or you face them, Mr. White. I learned it in rehab. It's all about accepting who you really are. I accept who I am. I'm the bad guy.
I am not turning down the money! I'm turning down you! You get it?! I want nothing to do with you! Ever since I met you, everything I ever cared about is gone! Ruined, turned to shit, dead, ever since I hooked up with the great Heisenberg! I have never been more alone! I have NOTHING! NO ONE! ALRIGHT, IT'S ALL GONE, GET IT? No, no, no, why...why would you get it? What do you even care, as long as you get what you want, right? You don't give a shit about me! You said I was no good. I'm nothing! Why would you want me, huh? You said my meth is inferior, right? Right? Hey! You said my cook was GARBAGE! Hey, screw you, man! Screw you!
What happens now? I’ll tell you what happens now. Your scumbag brother-in-law is finished. Done. You understand? I will own him when this is over. Every cent he earns, every cent his wife earns is mine. Any place he goes, anywhere he turns, I’m gonna be there grabbing my share. He’ll be scrubbing toilets in Tijuana for pennies and I’ll be standing over him to get my cut. He’ll see me when he wakes up in the morning and when he crawls to sleep in whatever rat hole is left for him after I shred his house down. I will haunt his crusty ass forever until the day he sticks a gun up his mouth and pulls the trigger just to get me out of his head. That’s what happens next.
Why not? Why not? Maybe-- Maybe she's right. You know, maybe I should have put it in the paper. Maybe I should have done something different. The thing is, if you just do stuff and nothing happens what's it all mean? What's the point? All right, this whole thing is about self-acceptance. Kicking the hell out of yourself doesn't give meaning to anything. So I should stop judging - and accept? So, no matter what I do, hooray for me because I'm a great guy? It's all good? No matter how many dogs I kill, I just what, do an inventory and accept? I mean, you back your truck over your own kid and you, like, accept? What a load of crap! Hey, Jesse, I know you're in pain. No, y-you know what? Why I'm here in the first place? Is to sell you meth. You're nothing to me but customers! I made you my bitch! You okay with that? Huh? You accept???
What good is being an outlaw when you have responsibilities?
I uh... I eat a lot of frozen stuff... It's usually pretty bad, I mean the pictures are always so awesome, you know? It's like "hell yeah, I'm starved for this lasagna!" and then you nuke it and the cheese gets all scabby on top and it's like... it's like you're eating a scab... I mean, seriously, what's that about? It's like "Yo! What ever happened to truth in advertising?" You know?
Yes. Yes, you are. All right? Just drop the whole concerned dad thing and tell me the truth. I mean, you're– you're acting like me leaving town is– is all about me and turning over a new leaf, but it's really– it's really about you. I mean, you need me gone, 'cause your dickhead brother-in-law is never gonna let up. Just say so. Just ask me for a favor. Just tell me you don't give a shit about me, and it's either this– it's either this or you'll kill me the same way you killed Mike. I mean, isn't that what this is all about? Huh? Us meeting way the hell out here? In case I say no? Come on. Just tell me you need this.
Look– look, you two guys are just… guys, okay? Mr. White... he's the devil. You know, he is– he is smarter than you, he is luckier than you. Whatever–Whatever you think is supposed to happen– I’m telling you, the exact reverse opposite of that is gonna happen, okay?