Better Call Saul (season 4)

season of television series

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The following is a list of quotes from the fourth season of Better Call Saul.

[Jimmy and Kim visit Chuck's house the morning after his suicide by fire, and react to his death]
Jimmy: So...?
Kim: [holding back emotion] He says it started in the living room. Somehow one of the lanterns was knocked over, and then... [beat] The inspector says it was over fast. Smoke inhalation. So he didn't suffer.
Jimmy: Yeah, they're gonna say that. Did you see the backyard? [Kim shakes her head] His microwave, his stereo, uh, the lights, dishwasher, all—all the kitchen stuff—everything electric is back there. The firemen didn't do that. He did that. [sighs] I saw him five days ago. He was listening to jazz, all the lights worked. He was himself. Something must have happened. Something made him relapse.

[Gus and Bolsa meet with Nacho and Arturo at a Los Pollos Hermanos warehouse after Hector's stroke. The dialogue is in Spanish.]
Bolsa: [to Arturo] You I know. [to Nacho] You I don't.
Arturo: Tuco's man. He's okay.
Bolsa: Tuco's man?
Nacho: Ignacio.
Bolsa: Don Hector had a stroke. We don't know when he will be back. But listen to me: Salamanca territory stays Salamanca territory. Nothing changes. Collections continue as before. The count must be exact. Anyone crosses a line, you stop them. You have a delivery tomorrow night. You pick up, you package, you distribute. All as you've done before. Do you understand? [Nacho and Arturo both nod] You do this right, things could go very well for you. Go.
[Nacho and Arturo both leave the room]
Bolsa: The old bastard, he's always been trouble. But he keeps his house in order. Gustavo. What do you think?
Gus: Someone will move against the Salamancas. Which brings... war. Which brings... chaos. Which brings... the DEA.

[Mike is visiting a Madrigal break room when two employees enter, having a debate]
Madrigal Employee #1: Bruce had the speed. He could kick you before you saw him move.
Madrigal Employee #2: Yeah, but watch the Liston fight.
Madrigal Employee #1: We're talking about what, boxing? Because that's something else.
Madrigal Employee #2: No, we're talking about a street fight.
Madrigal Employee #1: Street fight? Great, so Bruce can kick!
Madrigal Employee #2: No, we're not talking about a movie fight. We're talking about weight, we're talking about reach.
Madrigal Employee #1: Boxing is a sport. Martial arts is life and death.
Madrigal Employee #2: Look, I don't care how fast you are, Muhammad Ali hits you, you going down. That's a fact.
Madrigal Employee #1: If he hits you. Bruce Lee – he knows the anatomy, he's got the moves, he's gonna find an opening.
Madrigal Employee #2: Without power, the–the opening doesn't mean squat. How much does he weigh?
Madrigal Employee #1: I dunno, maybe a buck thirty.
Madrigal Employee #2: Ali was the heavyweight champ. He's got at least a hundred pound on Lee.
Madrigal Employee #1: Bruce feints Ali's hit, but he goes low when he sweeps into the deck. Ali goes down hard, it's all over!
Madrigal Employee #2: [scoffs]
Mike: Does he have a gun?
Madrigal Employee #1: I'm sorry?
Mike: Does Bruce Lee have a gun? Because if he doesn't, it's Ali in three minutes or less.
Madrigal Employee #2: See? That's what I'm saying.

Mike: I waltz through security with someone else's ID. Nobody gives me a second look. When the rightful owner shows up, there's no facility-wide badge check. I find access doors left unlocked or propped open, passwords written on Post-it notes. Warehouse workers are using pen and paper instead of electronic inventory devices, which leaves you wide open to pilfering. You got duplicate routing numbers on cargo, surveillance camera blind spots on the north and the east side of the floor, inventory documents that are going into the trash instead of being shredded, not to mention loading equipment being driven at unsafe speeds and crews disregarding safe—
Madrigal Manager: Wait, wait, hold on, hold on. Who are you, exactly?
Mike: Ehrmantraut. Security consultant.
Madrigal Manager: Well, all due respect, I don't know anything about a security consultant.
Mike: Well, you wouldn't, would you? Maybe you'd best call corporate. Try Lydia Rodarte-Quayle.

Howard: I-I think I owe you the truth about Chuck. Those lanterns. He was living in that house without electricity for the better part of two years. He knew how to use those lanterns. He was careful, I saw it, I know you did too. There was never a problem. I know it's a terrible thing to... [pause] I don't think what happened was an accident.
[Jimmy and Kim don't respond]
Howard: You probably heard Chuck was retiring from HHM. But that's not the truth. The truth is that we had a disagreement, and I pushed him out. I made him go.
Kim: Chuck was sick for years. And after the bar hearing—
Howard: The bar hearing had nothing to do with it.
Kim: Okay.
Howard: The fact is, he started getting better after that. He took more of an interest in the firm, he came to work, we could leave the lights on. He was improving until the thing with the insurance, so i-it wasn't the bar hearing.
Jimmy: The insurance?
Howard: It was a ridiculous thing. I should have just let it go. I mean, God knows he's done enough for me. But he kept pushing, and I, um, I got my back up.
Jimmy: What about the insurance?
Howard: It was, uh, our malpractice insurance. They found out about Chuck's condition, raised our rates. Chuck went ballistic. He wanted to go to war. I drew a line. He wouldn't back down, so I forced him out. Never occurred to me that I could hurt him. He always seemed so strong. But he wasn't. I think he did what he did because of me.
Jimmy: [pause] Well, Howard, I guess that's your cross to bear.
[Dr. Goodman examines Hector and reports his condition to Gus]
Goodman: He’s no longer in a coma, but he’s unresponsive. His condition is stable, they’re managing his blood pressure, but whether he will wake up and understand what’s going on around him... there’s no way of knowing.
Gus: That’s unacceptable.
Goodman: Gustavo, he’s getting very good care here. There’s very little even the best hospitals could do. Now, might it be different if he was in the care of someplace like... Johns Hopkins? Perhaps. Or, it could make no difference at all. But in the end... in the end, I can think of no better judgment on this man. [Gus turns to glare at him] Isn’t this what he deserves?
Gus: I decide what he deserves. No one else.

[Jimmy leaves his job interview at Neff Copiers after being promised that he will be contacted in a week. Jimmy impulsively walks back to Mr. Neff's office.]
Henry: Yes?
Jimmy: I'm sorry, could I just have another minute? I-I'll be real quick.
Mr. Neff: Uh, yeah, sure, Jimmy. What's on your mind?
Jimmy: Uh, look, I know you are gonna take some time to consider your options, but maybe we could settle this right now. There's a thing that we all know called opportunity cost—the time you spend looking for someone is time I could be out there working for you. And sure, there are salesmen out there with way more experience than me. But what are the chances one of them's going to come walking through that door in the next week? And is it worth the wait? Maybe. Maybe. But I could tell you this: none of them will have the connection to your machines that I do. None. I worked in the mail room. I know how important the copy machine is – deadlines, last minute changes. And I was in there. I was clearing paper jams, I was cleaning ink off gears and rollers trying to figure out where the mystery streaks were coming from. [chuckles] I was down on my hands and knees with my tie over my shoulder and ink-stained hands and a line of assistants out the door, and they're all worried that they're gonna lose their job if they don't get their document in the next five minutes. I know—I know better than anyone that the copier, it's the beating heart of any business. It goes down, it causes delays—that is lost money, that is frustrated employees, that's a negative work environment, that's a business on life support. But you plug one of your new machines into the system, that is a healthy, strong heartbeat—ka-chunk, ka-chunk, ka-chunk! That is a healthy business—ka-chunk, ka-chunk, ka-chunk! That is a successful business! And that's what we're selling.
Mr. Neff: Um, just...
[Jimmy walks to the other side of the room while Mr. Neff and Henry confer amongst themselves. After a few minutes, they approach Jimmy.]
Mr. Neff: Jimmy. Welcome to the team.
Jimmy: Really?
Henry: Damn right! Congrats! We'll get you set up with Audrey in HR, fill out your paperwork, and hopefully you'll be all set by the end of the day.
Jimmy: So just like that, huh?
Mr. Neff: Yep. Why wait when we can get you rolling?
Jimmy: You were gonna take some time though and consider your options, but, uh... I just come in and do that little song-and-dance and... I'm in?
Mr. Neff: Yeah. Right. That's right.
Jimmy: Wh—Are you out of your mind? You don't know me. I just came in off the street. You guys are like a couple of cats. I come in, wave a shiny object, you're like, "I want that!" No due diligence? No background check? No, just hire the guy that says them fancy words? I could be a serial killer! I could be a guy who pees in your coffee pot! I could be both!
Henry: ...So you're not taking the job?
Jimmy: No, I'm not taking the job! Suckers. I feel sorry for you.
[Jimmy takes his briefcase and leaves]

[Gus is cleaning trash in the parking lot when Lydia calls]
Gus: Yes.
Lydia: It's me. Can we meet?
Gus: Now is not a good time.
Lydia: I'm in town. I can easily meet wherever is convenient.
Gus: Assume this is a secure line.
Lydia: I spoke with your..."security contractor." I explained the situation, again, but he's going to keep doing what he's doing.
Gus: I understand.
Lydia: But what he's doing makes no sense.
Gus: Do his reasons matter?
Lydia: They do if he's unreliable.
Gus: He is reliable.
Lydia: So I'm just supposed to let him keep stealing my employees' badges? [Gus is distracted by Tyrus pulling into the parking lot] I don't know where he's gonna turn up next, what disruption he's gonna cause, what mess I'm gonna have to clean up. This isn't something I want to spend my time worrying about.
Gus: Then I suggest you give the man a badge. [hangs up]

Kim: I just, uh... I just had to know—What were you thinking?
Howard: About?
Kim: What were you thinking when you came to Jimmy on the day of his brother's funeral and laid that shit on him? That Chuck killed himself? What's wrong with you?
Howard: I-I thought... I thought I owed it to Jimmy, to tell him.
Kim: "Owed it to him?" Did you owe it to Rebecca? You tell her your theory? That Chuck intentionally set himself on fire? [pause; Howard doesn't answer] Well, I guess not. I guess you just saved that one for Jimmy.
Howard: Kim, I didn't do it to hurt Jimmy—
Kim: No, you did it to make yourself feel better.
Howard: That—That's not what I was trying to do—
Kim: To make yourself feel better by unloading your guilt. Who cares what it does to Jimmy, right? As long as Howard Hamlin is okay.
Howard: Kim, I don't think that's fair—
Kim: FAIR?! Let's talk about fair! "Hey, let's let Jimmy dig around the fire-damaged wreck where his brother died SCREAMING! And then, let's let him pick up a keepsake or two!" That is so, so fair! And did I hear you right? You want him to serve on the board of a scholarship committee?! A scholarship that Chuck never in a million years would've given to Jimmy! Never! It is just, I mean— [picks up an envelope containing a personal letter from Chuck to Jimmy] Oh, what's this too, Howard? What's in this? One last "screw you, little brother" from beyond the grave? Am I really supposed to do this to him?!
Howard: Alright, Kim. What can I do to make it better?
Kim: Nothing. There is nothing you can do. Just stay away.

Gus: [to Nacho] I know what you've done. The Salamancas, they do not. Do you understand what I am saying? [Nacho nods] Look at me. From now on, You. Are. Mine.
[Jimmy and Mike are sitting at a booth at Loyola's diner. Jimmy places a Hummel figurine on the table]
Mike: ...And?
Jimmy: What if I told you you could turn this piece of crap into four grand, for each of us, minimum? This little fella, he's called the "Merry Wanderer." He's not much to look at, he's pretty easy to find. I got this one at a pawn shop on 4th for twenty bucks. But, he has a cousin called "Bavarian Boy," almost identical – same umbrella, same swagger. That one is worth a boatload.
Mike: And I gather you know where to find a Bavarian Boy?
Jimmy: I do indeed. He's gathering dust on a shelf in an office up on San Mateo and he's been there for God knows how long and they have no idea what they've got. To them, it's not Bavarian Boy, it's just some piece of junk Grandma gave me that I feel too guilty to get rid of. And that's where you come in. Now, this place I'm talking about, they're not exactly what you call security-conscious. There's no cameras whatsoever. There's an alarm on the door that I could probably bridge. And past that, you just pick a lock and walk over to the shelf and swap this Wanderer for that Boy. It's five minutes, max.
[Fran, a waitress, approaches the table]
Fran: Warm-up, gentlemen?
Mike: Yeah, thanks, Fran.
Jimmy: Wow, thanks.
Fran: [regarding the figurine] That's cute.
Jimmy: Isn't it, though?
Fran: Yeah. Have your food out in a jiff, Mike.
Jimmy: [sighs] Look. They're not even going to know it's gone. They look over at the shelf, they just see the same dumb tchotchke staring at 'em they've been looking at for years. There's no serial number. These things are practically untraceable. You send Pryce or some other schlub down to Dallas, next week they're having a collectibles expo. Those people are hungry for Hummels. I mean, their eyes are gonna pop when they see what we've brung 'em. And they will pay through the nose, which we will split fifty-fifty. So? It's perfect, right? We make some nice Hummel-loving lady happy, and we make a bundle. Let's do something beautiful here.
Mike: And how did you come across this valuable wunderkind?
Jimmy: What difference does it make?
Mike: Guys in the office cross you? Done you wrong?
Jimmy: [scoffs] What? You're, uh, missing the point! It's free money! You walk by a twenty on the sidewalk? No, you pick it up.
Mike: [beat] Pass.
Jimmy: What? Why?
Mike: It's not for me.
Jimmy: Not for you? Is there some problem I'm not seeing, like, with the swap or something?
Mike: Plan's fine as far as it goes, it's just not for me. And I don't think it should be for you, either. [beat] I'm sorry about your brother.
Jimmy: Yeah, thanks. What, you're really not gonna do this?
Mike: Sorry.

[Jimmy speaks to Caldera's contact over the phone about the figurine job]
Jimmy: I have one question for you: Do you shit gold? It's a simple "yes" or "no." Do. You. Shit. Gold? No? Alright, then. Because unless you currently have a large gold nugget traversing your colon, this is the easiest money you're ever gonna make.

Gale: Oh, I tested your samples. They range from 39% to 58% pure. Except this one, which hovers around 67. Top of the glass, so to speak. You should tell the chemist to check his or her cookware. It's introducing contamination, which would be easy to avoid.
Gus: Well, thank you very much, Gale. That's very useful information. Well, I should let you get back to your work.
Gale: Mr. Fring, um... I—I don't want to cast aspersions, but I have to tell you, these samples aren't great. I-In fact, they're, um... They're—they're not even good. Basically, they're dreck. I could do much better...
Gus: Gale–
Gale: ...much higher-grade. I could make a kilo or more right here, no one would know. It wouldn't take more than a few days.
Gus: I wouldn't want to interfere with your studies.
Gale: These are my studies. Please, it's the least I can do. I wouldn't let you down.
Gus: [chuckles] Oh, I'm certain that you wouldn't. But I'm afraid I can't allow it. Not yet. You were meant for better things. I'll see you soon, Gale.

[Kim shows Jimmy some documents left over to him from Chuck's will, including a personal letter from Chuck in an unopened envelope]
Kim: Um, this is... It's from Chuck. Nobody knows for sure what's in it. You don't have to open it right now, but...
[Jimmy opens the envelope]
Jimmy: Let's see what the old boy has to say.
Kim: O-Okay. I'll give you minute, um...
Jimmy: No, no. Stay. It's fine. And, uh, you want to hear this, right?
Kim: Yeah. If it's okay.
Jimmy: It's undated. Okay, here it goes: "Dear Jimmy, I have left many things unsaid in our relationship through the years. Rather than allow—allow these unspoken thoughts to die with me, I've chosen to record them here for you. I hope you will take my words in the spirit in which they are intended." New paragraph. "I remember quite clearly the day you came home from the hospital. You can't imagine the joy on Mom's face. I can honestly say I never saw her happier than she was on that day. You brought a shine to her life that nothing else ever did, and I'm glad of that." New paragraph. "We have not always seen eye to eye. I expect it will continue to be so in the future. However, nothing will ever change the fact that we are brothers, flesh and blood. Although we are very different people, I want you to know how much I respect what you have made of yourself in these last few years. You have taken the opportunity I gave you in the mailroom and you have run with it, becoming a valued member of the HHM family. For all the problems in your past, I'm proud we share the name McGill. I sincerely admire your energy and resilience. I used to worry about you finding a place in the world, but I'm not worried about that anymore. I'm certain now that no matter what the future may bring you'll land on your feet, and I hope when you read this, you remember me not only as your brother, but a person you knew was always in your corner." Signed just "Chuck." Well, say what you want, the man could write a letter.
[Jimmy turns to see Kim on the verge of tears]
Kim: S-Sorry...
Jimmy: Hey.
Kim: No, I did–I didn't mean to make it–
Jimmy: No, it's okay, it's okay. It's a nice letter. Hey...
Kim: No, just... just... just give me... just give me a minute...
[Kim breaks down crying and leaves the room]

Talk [4.04]

edit
[Judge Munsinger asks Kim to meet him in his office after she idles in his court]
Munsinger: Are you researching something?
Kim: No, Your Honor.
Munsinger: Then you—you're working on your procedure?
Kim: Just... observing.
Munsinger: Hmm... uh, so Howard Hamlin's fine with one of his associates just sitting around my court all day, whiling away the billable hours?
Kim: Actually, I left HHM. I'm a solo practitioner now.
Munsinger: No kidding? Field?
Kim: Mainly, banking.
Munsinger: How's business?
Kim: Pretty good. I'm outside counsel for Mesa Verde.
Munsinger: Mesa Verde. [stares at Kim] You know, I heard about a case. I think you might be the right person for it... Interested?
Kim: Oh, of course!
Munsinger: I can't share all the details just yet, but I can give you broad strokes. There's a young woman—into her early twenties, pregnant with her first child, nearing the end of term—healthy as a horse. She develops a complication. She goes to the hospital for delivery, and there's a mistake with the anesthesia. She aspirates vomitus into her oxygen mask, stops breathing. The baby's delivered fine, but the young mother suffers serious brain damage; she's left comatose on a respirator. The family is, naturally, devastated... and they're broke, so they have no way to pay for the young lady's care. And to make matters worse, the hospital refuses to take responsibility, and they've hired one of the most expensive firms in the state.
Kim: This is the plot of The Verdict.
Munsinger: Yes, of course it is! Because movies are the only places where those once-in-a-lifetime cases exist! You know what I got coming up next? I got a janitor who threw his pee on his boss. The one after that, [checks papers] she stabbed her boyfriend over a grilled cheese sandwich. This is the real world, Ms. Wexler, and you won't find any save-the-broken-lawyer cases in it. Don't think that you are the first to try to rediscover their love of the law by trolling my court—You're not. The best thing you can do is stick to Mesa Verde: Make lots of money, give some to charity. [pause] Having said that, we've got perpetual PD overload. So beware: Next time I see you lurking in my court, I'm gonna put you to work.
Kim: Understood.
Munsinger: Good luck to you.
Kim: Thank you, Your Honor.

[At his grief group, Mike's anger builds as Henry talks about his fake wife]
Henry: I keep trying to get there, you know, to live in the here and now. I know that's what Judy would have wanted, but it's... hard. This guy at work, I've been avoiding him for the past two weeks, ever since he got back from his vacation to Australia. [pause] She always wanted to go to Sydney, but money was tight. Finally, we were gonna go, for our 25th... and that's when she got her test results.
Mike: Oh, God...
Group Leader: Mike? You have something you want to add?
Mike: You don't wanna hear what I have to say.
Group Leader: Well, we're ready if you are.
Mike: Yeah? This guy was never married.
Henry: ...What are you talking about?
Group Leader: Mike, now, you know the rules-
Mike: Yeah, I know your rules. He's been coming in here for months, selling you a bill of goods, getting you all misty-eyed and loving every minute of it-
Stacey: [nudges Mike] Pop.
Mike: [to Stacey] Stop.
Henry: That's just not true.
Mike: Yeah? Okay, so I'll go to the public library, and I'll get the papers from 1997 and I'll run a search on Judy DeVore, beloved wife of Henry DeVore. Tell me I'll find her obituary. She wanted to go to Australia? Well, last month it was Cuba. Come on, Henry. Let's look at the papers, see if the math works–
Anita: Come on. Mike.
Mike: She's not there, is she? Go on...say it. You have no shame.
[After a moment, Henry gets up and leaves]
Mike: ...Well. He came to the right place, didn't he? He knew you wouldn't notice, and you didn't. All wrapped up in your sad little stories, feeding off each other's misery. [beat] You wanted me to talk. I talked.

[Manuel comes home from work to see that someone broke in, sitting in the kitchen. The dialogue is in Spanish.]
Manuel: Leave now. I don't want you here. Leave. Answer me! I don't want to play games. I told you to get out of my house. You must go, right now!
[Manuel turns on the lights to see Nacho bandaged up]
Manuel: ...My God. Mijo? What have they done to you? [picks up a phone]
Nacho: No.
Manuel: You need the hospital.
Nacho: Papa. Please. Don't call anyone. I won't be safe if you do.
[Manuel reluctantly hangs up]
Nacho: I'm okay. Can I rest here a little?

Mike: You wanted to see me, here I am.
Gus: In order for our arrangement to continue, there is a matter we need to discuss.
Mike: Okay.
Gus: Do you have something to tell me? [pause] If you do, you would be well-advised to do so.
Mike: Nacho Varga. I wondered when you were gonna get around to this.
Gus: You came to me. You asked me for a favor. You looked me in the eye, you shook my hand. And all the while, you knew Varga was moving against my interests.
Mike: I said I wouldn't kill Salamanca. I never promised to be his bodyguard. So... what now? [pause; to Victor] You gonna make a move, you better make it. [long pause; to Gus] But they're not gonna, are they? You brought me here because you have an ask. So, why don't you stop running a game on me, and just tell me about the job?
[In a flash-forward cold open, Saul and Francesca prepare to leave their office for good and start putting money into suitcases]
Saul: [to Francesca] Do me a favor. [points at trash bags full of shredded documents] Take those with you, drop them off at least five miles from here in separate dumpsters! [Francesca stares at him] Oh, right. Um... [unzips suitcase and gives Francesca a rolled-up wad of cash; Francesca continues staring] Fine. [reaches into suitcase again and gives her more cash] Okay, when the cops come talk to you–and they will–what are you gonna tell them?
Francesca: "Talk to my attorney."
Saul: Yeah. [hands Francesca a business card] Tell them Jimmy sent you. Okay, and where are you gonna be November 12th at 3:00 p.m.?
Francesca: I'll be there, but if it doesn't ring at 3:00 on the dot, I'm gone.
Saul: Don't worry, it's gonna ring. Well, I guess... that's it. Quite a ride, huh?
[Saul spreads his arms out for a hug]
Francesca: [scoffs] Yep.
[Francesca takes the trash bags with her on her way out and shuts the door. Saul runs to his desk, gets a disposable cell phone out of a drawer, and quickly dials a number.]
Saul: I need a new dust filter for my Hoover Max Extract Pressure Pro, model 60. Can you help me with that? Pickup... How hot? Red hot. [pause] I know where that is. I'll be there. [hangs up and breaks apart the phone]

[Jimmy, with the last of his cell phone supply, approaches the leader of a biker gang that scared off the customers he made from his previous sales]
Jimmy: Hey, how's it going? Did you get that ink in Los Lunas?
Biker Boss: Las Cruces.
Jimmy: Off by one.
Biker Boss: And you've been inside?
Jimmy: No, I haven't had the honor. But I used to be a lawyer. [two bikers get up and eye Jimmy suspiciously] Emphasis on "used to be!" And I helped a lot of gentlemen such as yourself and your friends here. And one thing I learned from working with my clients in the New Mexico corrections system is that private conversations are few and far between. The man is always listening on those landlines, so... Word to the wise, if you want to talk to your friends on the inside, there is a simple solution.
Biker Boss: Yeah? What's that?
Jimmy: [takes phone box out of his hands] This little baby. It's the most compact model on the market. It can be hidden in... any number of places. And, uh, if you buy it from me with cash, it's completely untraceable.
Biker Boss: [pause] How much?
[Later, the three teenagers Jimmy met earlier confront him after the bikers leave]
Jimmy: Sorry, guys. You had your chance. I'm all sold out.
Youth #1: Give me your money.
Jimmy: I'm a narc, remember?
Youth #2: Well, we saw you got cash. Hand it over.
Jimmy: Nice try. Look, Pee-Wee, Scooter, Skippy, it was very good to meet you boys. Good luck with the junior achievement project. I–I gotta go.
[The boys grab Jimmy, beat him up, and steal the money out of his wallet before running away]

[Mike brings a German engineer, Werner Ziegler, to the laundromat as part of his job for Gus. Werner, who has a bag over his head, curses in German as he is transported in the van with Mike.]
Mike: Speak English, please.
Werner: I'm going to throw up!
Mike: I suggest you don't. Hold on. We're almost there.
[They eventually arrive at the laundromat where Gus' meth lab will be built underground. Mike gives Werner, who is still carsick from the ride to Albuquerque, some water.]
Mike: You okay?
Werner: Better. [coughs] Pardon. I take the dramamine, but it doesn't help.
[Werner looks at a washing machine on the other side of the room]
Werner: Over there?
Mike: Over there.
[Werner inspects the equipment and takes notes while speaking to himself in German.]
Mike: So?
Werner: Before I can begin excavation, I must support the existing structure to avoid a cave-in. Normally, this would involve a piling rig, working from above. But there can be no activity visible from the surface, hmm? [Mike says nothing] So I must construct secant walls of CFA piles, working completely underground. Next, I must somehow place I-beams across the top of the secant walls to support the floor and the machinery. Only now can I fully excavate. I will need to move... perhaps 1,700 cubic meters of dirt. That means trucking out about 200 loads. Going this deep, we will surely hit rock, which means... blasting. [sighs] I will need schematics of utility in the area.
Mike: You'll get those.
Werner: Once the space is fully cleared, I can waterproof, then fabricate casts for the retaining walls and pour concrete. We would need, uh... [chuckles] about 150 cubic meters. This is just the beginning. And all this in complete secrecy? [beat; Mike stares at Werner] Judging from the sounds I heard, I assume we are not far from a town. This is also not... optimal. [Mike continues staring at Werner] A project like this... many, many things can go wrong.
[Gus enters the room. Werner exchanges looks with Mike before facing Gus.]
Gus: So... It's impossible?
Werner: Dangerous, difficult... and very, very expensive. Not quite impossible.
Gus: Gustavo Fring. [in German] A pleasure to make your acquaintance.
[Gus and Werner shake hands]

[Jimmy notices a depressed and exhausted-looking Howard in the courthouse bathroom]
Jimmy: Howard. Everything okay?
Howard: Everything's fine. How are you doing?
Jimmy: I've been better. I'm heading up to the DA's office for my PPD check-in, so you know...
Howard: Yeah.
[Howard continues washing his face]
Jimmy: [pause] You sure you're okay?
Howard: I'm supposed to be in court in, uh... about twenty-five minutes.
Jimmy: Big case?
Howard: Not particularly.
Jimmy: So, what's up?
Howard: [sighs] Nothing. Just... [chuckles] You ever have insomnia?
Jimmy: Not really.
Howard: Wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.
Jimmy: Don't they have pills for that? [Howard chuckles again] I'm sorry, I gotta ask. What's... What's eating you?
Howard: Jimmy... [pause] I think I've shared enough. More than enough. Let's leave it at that.
Jimmy: I get it. You know what, Howard? You do yourself a favor, and you go see someone. Actually, I have the number of a shrink. I got it for a client. And he's supposed to be great. [looks for note Kim gave him earlier] I think... I've got it right here actually.
Howard: Uh, thanks. I'm already seeing someone.
Jimmy: Really?
Howard: Twice a week.
Jimmy: Is he any good?
Howard: Yes.
Jimmy: [pause] Well... Good seeing you, Howard.
Howard: You too.
[Howard leaves the bathroom. Jimmy walks into an empty stall, rips up the note with the number, and flushes it down the toilet]

PPD Supervisor: Have you thought about what you're gonna do once your PPD is up?
Jimmy: I have some plans.
PPD Supervisor: Okay. Such as?
Jimmy: Until then, I'll show up here every second Monday of the month like clockwork. I'm gonna keep my job at the cell phone store and in nine months and twenty-four days, I will get my law license back. My partner and I, we'll get a new office. It'll be like it was, but bigger and better. Everything will be better. I'm gonna have more clients, I'm gonna win more cases, I'm gonna be a damn good lawyer. And people are gonna know about it.
PPD Supervisor: Okay. So... lawyer.
Jimmy: Yeah. Lawyer.
Rich: So, what can I do for you?
Kim: I have a question for you. How's your banking division?
Rich: Well, we have some banking work, but I wouldn't say we have a division.
Kim: Would you like one?

[Kim invites Jimmy to dinner to discuss her new job]
Kim: Hey, there.
Jimmy: Heeeeey... Giselle.
Kim: [chuckles] I was thinking we could just be Kim and Jimmy today.
Jimmy: Uh, okay. Those two aren't all bad.
Kim: Rumors and hearsay. How's work?
Jimmy: It is a job... and how about you? Work's good?
Kim: Yeah! Actually, I have news. Good news—Great news, really. It could change things for Wexler-McGill, but... I met with Rich Schweikart today.
Jimmy: Really?
Kim: Yeah... Well, y'know, they took on Gatwood, so I've been meaning to follow up, and... anyway, we were talking and he offered me a job.
Jimmy: Again? What, he can't take no for an answer?
Kim: They want me to run their banking division. Build it, really.
Jimmy: ...You're not seriously considering it?
Kim: I'd be coming in as a partner.
Jimmy: But I thought things were going okay with Mesa Verde since, uh—
Kim: Yeah, they are! They were... my workload has gotten a lot more complicated lately. I've been taking on some pro bono work: Overflow from the public defender's office.
Jimmy: PD overflow? When did you-? Why?
Kim: ...I like it. I'm good at it. And...I'm helping people, Jimmy. And I know that sounds cheesy, it's-it's whatever, but it's the truth.
Jimmy: No! It, uh, makes a lot of sense. [pause] I have been thinking about criminal law myself, lately. Y'know, for when I get my license back.
Kim: Really?
Jimmy: Yeah. You know, like you said, y'know, you're helping people. I'm thinking an office in one of these refurbished bungalows, downtown by the courts. Y'know, stick around where all the people who need help are... Boy, it has a nice ring to it now. Wexler-McGill, criminal law.
Kim: [hesitantly] That all sounds great. The thing is...if I go to Schweikart & Cokely, I have all those associates to help cover Mesa Verde. It’ll keep paying the bills and free me up to do the work I really care about.
Jimmy: ...So, you'd kinda get to have your cake and eat it, too.
Kim: Kind of, yeah.
Jimmy: [sighs] I'll be right back.
Kim: No, Jimmy—
Jimmy: What? I-No, I just-I gotta hit the head!
[Jimmy has an anxiety attack when he is out of sight. He sits back down with Kim in a better state.]
Jimmy: I say do it. It's a great opportunity, and you should jump on it.
Kim: You mean that?
Jimmy: Yeah. Kim, you gotta do what's best for you.
Kim: You sure?
Jimmy: Yes. I can't ask you to wait around for me... and who knows? Ten months—a lot can happen.
Kim: Yeah. Yeah, who knows.
Jimmy: Yeah. So, to Schweikart and Cokely... and Wexler.

[Jimmy goes to HHM to pick up Chuck's bequest to him]
Jimmy: Hey, I see a lot of empty cubicles out there. What's going on?
Howard: We're doing some reorganizing.
Jimmy: Just making the office more feng shui, I take it?
Howard: We've had some setbacks.
Jimmy: Paying out to Chuck's estate?
Howard: That is part of it. And to be frank, the firm's reputation is... not what it was.
Jimmy: So what's the plan?
Howard: The consultants call it "rightsizing".
Jimmy: No, I mean, what's the plan to get HHM back on its feet? [pause; Howard doesn't answer] Are you kidding me? I just referred a client to you guys. You're welcome, by the way. And you're telling me this place is falling apart? Get your shit together, Howard!
Howard: Excuse me?
Jimmy: Oh, please. You suffer one little setback and you're gonna let your entire legacy go?!
Howard: "One little setback?"
Jimmy: Fine, your pain is very special. Woe is you. Just stop wallowing, okay? This place is all you've got! That and your hair—which, let's face it, clock's ticking there too, so... You wanna save your business? You wanna save your dignity? You're gonna have to fight! Hey... you're a shitty lawyer, Howard. But you're a great salesman. So, get out there and sell.
Howard: Fuck you, Jimmy!
Jimmy: There you go. Use that.

[Gus visits Hector, who remains sedated in his hospital bed]
Gus: The doctor tells me your fever has gotten worse. They say this infection may kill you. Even if it doesn't, my doctor tells me again and again that you may never wake. And yet I wait. I grew up quite poor. We lived in the hills, in a place my brothers built from things they found – metal sheeting, plywood. When it rained, it smelled like hay. We were always hungry. But there was a lucuma tree – scrawny, barely alive. My family had given up on it years before. Never bore fruit. When I was seven, I became fixated on it. I watered it, tended to it. It took a long time, but the buds grew into green fruit. I was so proud. I didn't tell anyone. I plucked one and hid behind our shack. I ate the whole thing. I'd never tasted something so sweet. It was like caramel. At first, we ate the fruit ourselves, and I began taking it to the village to sell. One day, much of the fruit was gone from my tree. Pieces were scattered on the ground, half-eaten. I thought it was probably a coati. Have you ever seen one? About the size of a large housecat. Opportunists. I built a snare, using branches and wire. It didn't take long for the animal to set it off. But the coati thrashed so hard, it broke out of the snare. Broke its leg, as well. I tried to grab it, but it slipped away. It ran under the house. I knew it would show itself sooner or later. So I waited... for hours, into the night. When my brothers called for me... I did not answer. I didn't make a sound. I was so still. Finally, it came out. It knew I was there, but it was hungry. This time, I was ready. I caught it. It fought me... but I was stronger. The merciful thing would have been to kill it. I kept it. It lived for quite some time. I believe you will wake, Hector.

[Jimmy manages to lure the teenagers who robbed him the previous night into his trap. He finds them gagged and hung upside down in a piñata store.]
Jimmy: Didn't know I had friends, did ya? So, what's it gonna be? Fast or slow? It's gonna hurt like a bitch either way. [one of the teenagers starts whimpering] What was that? Slow? Let me... [pulls duct tape off]
Youth #1: We're sorry, man, alright?! We're sorry!
[Two men in ski masks smash piñatas with baseball bats while slowly walking toward Jimmy and the teenagers]
Jimmy: Yeah, you are. Very much so.
Youth #1: We're gonna leave you alone, okay? We—We won't mess with you anymore.
Jimmy: Easy to say now, but what about tomorrow?
Youth #1: I—I swear, man. I swear I'll do anything you want me to.
Jimmy: Cross your heart and hope to die?
Youth #1: Yes! Yes, man!
Jimmy: [quietly] You mean it?
Youth #1: Yes. [another piñata gets knocked down] Yes! Look, after this, you'll never have to see us again. [the other two teenagers quickly nod in agreement]
Jimmy: And you will spread the word that I'm off limits?
Youth #1: Yes! Yes, yes! We'll tell everyone! We'll say, "Don't—Don't mess with the cell phone guy."
Jimmy: [pause] Alright, we're done. [to the masked men] We're done!
[The men continue smashing piñatas]
Jimmy: I think they get it. Seriously, guys, we're—we're done. Okay, we're good, alright? [the men walk right behind the teenagers with their bats] That's enough. [another piñata goes down] I appreciate the enthusiasm, but... he got the message.
Youth #1: That's right! Listen to what he says! Listen to what he says, I got the message!
Jimmy: Alright, you know what? If it's that important to you, go ahead.
Youth #1: No, no, no, no! No! No, please! [Jimmy turns him around so he faces one of the masked men] No, no, please. No! No, no, no! Please, no!
[One of the men gets ready to hit him, but stops short of his face and pushes him with the bat before handing it to Jimmy. Both men take off their ski masks and are revealed to be Huell and Man Mountain.]
Jimmy: You get one warning... and that was it. [drops bat and walks away]
Jimmy: You made it! Come on in. Picture a reception desk right here, alright? It's always nice to be greeted by a friendly face. Now, over in this corner we got a fireplace with a cozy waiting area: Couch, couple chairs, water cooler, electric kettle, maybe an assortment of teas? Now, this is my office, in here. Guess what? These are all original fixtures, so that's... Uh, we're four blocks from the courthouse here. So, how convenient is that? There's a bathroom and it's–it's... cute, heh! [opens bathroom door and quickly closes it] Phew, we're gonna get that cleaned out. Um, there's a shower in there for when you're buried in discovery late at night! This is for the partner, corner office: Lots of natural light, and that's great for your circadian rhythms. Uh... cherry blossoms! That's nice! And uh... [walks from one wall to the other while counting his steps] Six! It's pretty big. Um, there's a kitchenette down the hall, it's kind of perfect for snacks or uh, BYO lunch, heh. Get one of those snazzy Keurigs, put that in there. Stick a few potted plants around, make the place nice... What do you think?
[The camera reveals that Jimmy's talking to Huell]
Huell: So, no more cell phones?
Jimmy: No, but this is what the phones were for. So, if you were a lawyer, this would be a great place, right?
Huell: If I was a lawyer? Nope. Big glass high-rise, fortieth floor.
Jimmy: "Big glass high-rise".
Huell: Yep. When I'm not on my boat.

[During one of his phone sales, Jimmy is approached by a man who he deduces is an undercover cop]
Jimmy: What can I do you for?
Platt: [holds up business card] This you? Saul Goodman?
Jimmy: Uh... That's right, officer.
Platt: [chuckles] You wanna know where I got it? Off a drug dealer who got sprung today, 'cause he was using a drop phone that you sold him.
Jimmy: Huh.
Platt: Doesn't it bother you that you're peddling to a bunch of low-lifes who use these things to sell drugs?
Jimmy: What my customers do with the phones after they leave my possession, that's their business.
Platt: Let me ask you a favor, alright? Get your van out of here, park in front of a grocery store in Corrales—you know, some place nice—and... and sell there. You know, I'm sure there's a lot of... lot of soccer moms who could use some phones.
Jimmy: I don't know. I think my customer base is right here.
Platt: Get some new customers.
Jimmy: I don't feel the need to. See, I got a permit, and I'm collecting sales tax. And this is a legitimate business, right? So, anyone who wants to buy a phone from me is free to do so!
Platt: I'm asking nicely, okay?
Jimmy: Yeah, and I respectfully decline.
Platt: [pause] You're gonna go this way, huh?
Jimmy: There it is. What's it gonna be? What, is it gonna be littering or rolling through a stop sign? Hey, how about you plant something something in my glove compartment!
Platt: You know what, pal? Just take it easy, okay?
Jimmy: Well, maybe this is why people need privacy! Maybe this is why they need my phones! Maybe you're the problem!
Platt: Okay, so as long as you make a buck, the whole world can just go in the crapper?
Jimmy: Yeah!
[Huell is walking down the street with headphones on and sees Jimmy arguing with the officer]
Jimmy: [sees Huell walk up to them menacingly] No! No, no, no, no, no! Stop! He's a cop!
[Huell whacks the officer in the back of the head with a grocery bag. Jimmy gestures for him to take off the headphones.]
Jimmy: He's a cop.

[Huell is sitting in the back of a cop car while Jimmy tries to talk the cops out of arresting him]
Jimmy: This is all just a mistake. My friend got confused, okay? He was just trying to do his job. I hired him for security, he was trying to protect me. You were in plain clothes. He had no idea you were a police officer.
Platt: Oh, he knew alright.
Jimmy: How?
Platt: I picked him up three years ago.
Jimmy: Really?
Platt: Yeah. Pickpocketing.
Jimmy: [looks at Huell] Wha... Three years, that's a long time. I mean, how can you be sure it's the same guy?
Platt: Seriously?
Jimmy: Officer, look. You were right, I was wrong.
Platt: Were you now?
Jimmy: Yes, and you know what else? You will not see me out here selling my phones ever again, alright? So, just do me a favor. Let's just shake hands, avoid the paperwork, and we just go home.
Platt: Do you a favor? [shrugs] I was asking you for a favor.
Jimmy: Fair enough.
Platt: Oh, I asked you nicely, and you told me to go, "screw myself." [gets in his car]
Jimmy: I don't... I don't think I used those words.
Platt: See you around.
[Both cops drive off in their respective vehicles and take Huell away]

[Huell and Jimmy talk in the courthouse after Huell assaults the plainclothes officer]
Huell: Two and a half years.
Jimmy: Yeah, they always go for the max. Come on now, they'll calm down.
Huell: [snorts] PD didn't make it sound promising.
Jimmy: Heh, the guy, he's—he's just a burnout. He's trying to soften you up for an easy deal, alright? There's no way you'd do that kind of time!
Huell: You're goddamn right.
Jimmy: You're goddamn right... wait. What—What do you mean?
Huell: I'mma bounce. I got places I can go.
Jimmy: No. Uh, no, that's not a good idea, Huell.
Huell: Better than goin' in!
Jimmy: C'mon, you'll have a warrant on you, and that shit doesn't go away! You know, three years from now, you're pulled over for a broken tail light, and now you're not just a guy who shoved a cop; you're a guy who shoved a cop and ran.
Huell: Well, I just won't drive with a broken tail light.
Jimmy: Sooner or later, they're gonna catch up to you.
Huell: They didn't catch w:D.B. Cooper.
[Frustrated, Jimmy sits next to Huell]
Jimmy: Why don't you—Why don't you give me a shot at this? I... I think I can fix it.
Huell: Yeah?
Jimmy: Yeah. What if I told you, you're not going in?
Huell: Like, not at all? Not never? 'Cause that's what it's gonna take.
Jimmy: Yeah, never, alright? Just don't skip.
Huell: How you gonna do that? You ain't even a lawyer!
Jimmy: [scornfully] "A lawyer." Dude, I don't need to be a lawyer, alright? I'm a magic man. Will you have a little faith in me?

Jimmy: See, now I would help Huell myself if I could, but I don't think he's going to wait around a month for me to be reinstated.
Kim: You've been selling drop phones? On the street?
Jimmy: Kim, I... I just–if we could... Look, Kim. Here's what I'm thinking. I did a little recon, and the arresting officer, he has a DUI. Eight years ago. And he's been put on desk duty twice. I know he has anger issues, I can attest to it, right? So... We get him... smelling like a distillery and we piss him off in court. Now, he won't take the bait. He will lose his cool in front of the judge. A little stumble in there just for dramatic effect, and I have some thoughts on how to engineer that. But, you get the gist. Next thing you know, case dismissed.
Kim: [beat; walks back to her desk and dials a number on her phone] Viola, can you get me case material for Penal Code 34.22, sections 22-27? Yeah, battery on a P.O. Thanks. [hangs up phone]
Jimmy: Great. What's our first move?
Kim: I'm not tearing down a cop.
Jimmy: That's okay! You tell me.
Kim: I will look into this. I'm not making any promises, but if it is as bad as you say it is... I don't know. Maybe there's something I can do. Maybe.
Jimmy: Thanks, Kim. Listen, I really appreciate it.
Kim: Okay.
Jimmy: [pause] And tell me if there's anything I can do.
Kim: Yep.
[Jimmy spends the night in his nail salon office stressing about his relationship with Kim when Mrs. Nguyen finds him]
Mrs. Nguyen: Leaving now. You stick around?
Jimmy: Oh, yeah. I have—I'll be here a little longer. I'll lock up when I go. Is that alright?
Mrs. Nguyen: [pause] Wife mad at you?
Jimmy: She's not my wife... I don't know.
Mrs. Nguyen: Yeah, she's mad at you. [pours wine into a glass and offers it to Jimmy] Go on. [Jimmy reluctantly takes a sip] You take her to dinner. Nice place with a waiter. Cloth napkin. You bring flowers. You say sorry. Then, say sorry again. Whatever she says, you say sorry.
Jimmy: I think we might be past that.
Mrs. Nguyen: [pause] I'll leave the bottle.

[Mike comes up to Werner after the crew's night off]
Werner: Everyone seems much improved! This "R&R" was a good idea, Michael. [chuckles, looks around] Something the matter? [Mike hands him the coaster he sketched on] This? Oh, don't be concerned, I said nothing! Men at a bar, talking to make talk, and look: no details, no scale at all. Could be a skyscraper, could be a box for shoes. [beat] I said nothing about the construction that would not be true for thousands of others. By now, they have forgotten me entirely.
Mike: [sounding skeptical] "They forgot". The German national in the middle of Albuquerque, talking about pouring hundreds of tons of concrete at a secret underground location?
Werner: Eh, you're right. I'm sorry, Michael, I had too much beer... and I may have said more than I should have.
Mike: Listen to me. Carefully. The man we're working for is very serious; think about the precautions we take to keep everything that goes on here quiet. Think about how much money you're making. Think about what happens if something goes wrong. Do you understand what I am saying to you?
Werner: ...I do understand. And I'm sorry to cause any problem. You have my word. Nothing like this will happen again.
Mike: Okay. [takes the coaster] Let's get you to work.

[ADA Ericsen calls "Free Will Baptist Church", unaware that's it's a ploy by Jimmy and his film crew]
Jimmy: [Cajun accent] Hello there, Free Will Baptist, Pastor Hansford speaking. Uh, who dis?
ADA Ericsen: Good afternoon, pastor. My name is Suzanne Ericsen, I'm an assistant district attorney from Albuquerque, New Mexico.
Jimmy: Oooooh, that's a long way off, cher! Uh, can you hold on a second? Clarence is going at the organ, let me just- I'm gonna step into the vestibule. [motions for the organ music to be turned down] Ah, there we go. Now, what can I do for you, Miss uh- Miss Ericsen, you say?
ADA Ericsen: Mhm. Um, the court has received numerous letters from members of your congregation in regards to Mr. Huell Babineaux. May I ask you a couple questions about Mr. Babineaux?
Jimmy: Surely. What I can tell you about our Huell?
ADA Ericsen: Well, what kind of person would you say Mr. Babineaux is?
Jimmy: Why, I'd say he's a lovely person, both inside and out.
ADA Ericsen: Yes, I'm sure you'd say that about all your parishioners.
Jimmy: Hah, right, I suppose I would! But no. No, Huell, he's special. He's got a heart as big as Lake Pontchartrain.
ADA Ericsen: Hm. Do you mind my asking, what did he do to gain so much devotion in Coushatta?
Jimmy: Well, ma'am, for starters... he's a bona fide hero.
ADA Ericsen: He's a hero?
Jimmy: Yes, ma'am. See, about... mm, a year ago, uh, there was a fire in the rectory. It was during Bible study... at night... 'cause, uh, some of the old folks around here, they like to brush up on the Bible before, uh, they go to slep. Y'know, get right in case the Lord call them home?
ADA Ericsen: Yes.
Jimmy: Wouldn't you know it, there was a short circuit in the ol' coffeemaker. The whole thing catch fire, and the flame leaped up t'the windowsill! Well, Huell happened to be visiting his people and he saw the smoke. Well, what did he do? He burst right in and he carried out every last one of them oldsters!
ADA Ericsen: My goodness, and what happened to the church?
Jimmy: The church is fine! [signals for a donation on the Free Will Baptist website] I shudder to think what might'a happened if God, in his grace, hadn't seen fit to send us ol' Huell.
ADA Ericsen: I see.
Jimmy: Now, y'all sound like a real nice lady, and I know you're only doing your job, but I want you to understand something. I think you got the wrong end of the stick here. Huell Babineaux is very important to us! Now, he- he would never hurt a police officer! I believe it's just a misunderstanding, and I believe he might've been helping his friend. That’s the Huell that I know. [points at his film crew] Put that down, Clarence! Get rid of them robes now, that's for communion! Now, I will be with you presently. Ma'am, is there anything else I can help you with?
ADA Ericsen: No. No, pastor, thank you for your time. I think that's all.
Jimmy: Oh! Um, have you set a date yet for Huell trial?
ADA Ericsen: No, not yet.
Jimmy: Well, would you do me a kindness and ring me up when you do? Because we got a couple of charter buses. We're gonna bring the whole congregation up to y'all in Albuquerque.
ADA Ericsen: I'll make sure to let you know.
Jimmy: Bless you, and I look forward to meeting ya. [hangs up phone]
Drama Girl: [beat] Is it over?
Jimmy: ...Alright, here's what we're gonna do. I'm gonna take the church phone with me; she might call back. If any of these ring, I want you to pick up every third caller, okay? Thirty seconds max, stick to the script, let the rest go to voicemail.
Camera Guy: Uh, so... are we just supposed to hang around here, til—
Jimmy: You're paid for the day. You stay until I say you can go.

Jimmy: So, what's up?
Kim: Nothing... just driving around, thinking about things.
Jimmy: [pause] Listen, Kim. I—I know what's on your mind. The thing that we did: I mean, it was nuts, and I dumped it in your lap. Ex parte communication, contempt of court... I mean what, talking about a couple hundred counts of mail fraud? I could've wrecked you at Schweikart; I could've boned me, too. I mean, I'm this close to being reinstated. I mean, come on. [Kim stares off vacantly] Kim... don't worry. No one's gonna know about it, it'll be like it never happened. And, also, I agree—We are totally done with all that, over and out, no more.
Kim: ...Let's do it again.

[Nacho arrives at El Michoacano to the sound of loud music and an unfamiliar face cooking in the kitchen. He looks at Krazy-8 before walking into the kitchen. The dialogue switches between Spanish and English throughout]
Lalo: Oh, hey! [in Spanish] You're here! Right on time. [in English] Hold on, one second. You are going to love this. I made this just for you! [in Spanish] Never in your life have you tasted something so delicious, it's true. Wait, wait... You're gonna die. [offers plate of food to Nacho]
Nacho: [beat; in Spanish] No, thank you.
Lalo: [in Spanish] Smell it! You can't say no, are you crazy? [in English] I used epazote, man! Come on! [pause; in Spanish] Very well. You're not hungry. That's your problem. This is a special recipe... a family secret.
Nacho: The Salamanca family?
Lalo: Them! [in Spanish] I am Eduardo, [in English] but you can call me Lalo. [in Spanish] And you must be Varga, no? They told me you were smart. And look... Here you are, and you are.
Nacho: What are you doing here?
Lalo: I'm just here to lend a helping hand, you know? Make sure the business is running in order. I got a— I got a good head for numbers, but listen... Don't even worry. It's gonna be like I'm not even here. [sits down besides Krazy-8] Come on, Varga, let's go!
[Lalo tells Hector about a previous incident with a hotel owner during his and Nacho's visit. The dialogue is in Spanish.]
Lalo: You know what I was thinking about this morning? The smell of burning leather and horsehair stuffing. Do you remember? Hotel Tulipan? [chuckles] You were so polite to that guy. And he turns his back on you? Makes that big deal to show he's not scared? [shakes his head] He was a professor before he opened that place, remember? He'd always bring that up. The big college professor. [pause] You took your time with him... and his wife listening from the side. That asshole was so proud of his beautiful Spanish, his books, his antiques. But when it burned, it all smelled like shit. I never told you this, but... I went back inside. I went through the flames, the smoke. It was so hot the rubber on my shoes melted a little. Yes, I know it was very stupid, but... I'm sentimental. I wanted a souvenir. I kept it all these years. I brought it. [takes out present] Do you want to see it? [Hector taps his finger on his wheelchair]
[Lalo unwraps the present to reveal... a call bell. He places it on the right arm of Hector's wheelchair]
Lalo: Brings back memories, yes? Remember that guy hitting this, calling for his bellboy? Ding, ding, ding! [chuckles] And you? Teaching the teacher! There you go, Uncle. Perfect. Give it a try. [Hector rings the bell] Again, Uncle. [Hector rings the bell] That's it. Again. [Hector rings the bell repeatedly while Lalo laughs] That's a Salamanca!
[Both Lalo and Hector look briefly at Nacho, then at each other]
Lalo: [to Nacho, in English] Hey, why don't you... Why don't you go get some Jell-O?

[Lalo meets with Gus in his office]
Gus: Now, what may I do for you, Señor...
Lalo: Salamanca. Eduardo Salamanca, but you can call me Lalo... and you're Gustavo Fring. I've been an admirer of yours for many years. You have how many of these restaurants?
Gus: Seven.
Lalo: Seven. And starting from nothing. It's incredible.
Gus: What may I do for you?
Lalo: I come here on behalf of my entire family, to give you our deepest thanks.
Gus: Well, for what?
Lalo: For what? For saving Don Hector's life. I just visited him. You know, seeing a man like that: can't speak, can barely move, I wanted to weep... but it could have been worse. Varga tells me that while everybody else was picking their asses, you rushed to him, struck him in the chest and brought him back.
Gus: It was a simple instinct.
Lalo: But still, with all the history between you two... what you did was a gesture of peace. At least, that's how we see it.
Gus: I'm very pleased to hear that.
Lalo: [pause] And here we are, getting along. [leans in, begins speaking in Spanish] You ever think, maybe Don Eladio is one shrewd bastard? Hm? Maybe he likes the bad blood between us? He sits by his pool, baking in the sun, giving orders...but your trucks move the products, and Salamanca muscle keeps everyone in line.
Gus: [also in Spanish] I don't consider that there's bad blood.
Lalo: [in English] Really? Still, if we were to get along too well... I'm sure Eladio wouldn't like that, would he?
Gus: [takes a deep breath] I am satisfied with the current arrangement.
Lalo: ...I'm just shitting you! You would be crazy to go up against Eladio. [stares at Gus] Look, I'm gonna be in town for a while, so uh- y'know, we'll talk some more! We owe you. If you need a favor, I'm your man.
Gus: [shakes Lalo's hand] Same, naturally.
Lalo: Oh, and I'll be back for that chicken, eh? It's too tasty to stay away from.
[Gus frowns when he leaves. Lalo walks to his car with Nacho]
Lalo: [pause] You say you pick up six keys a week?
Nacho: Yeah.
Lalo: Where?
Nacho: He's got a chicken farm way out of town.
Lalo: [pause] Show me!

[At Jimmy's reinstatement hearing]
Lead Panelist: Well, Mr. McGill, is there anything you'd like to tell us about the... reasons you were suspended in the first place?
Jimmy: This past year, that's pretty much been the only thing on my mind, and I'm humbled... by the sheer stupidity of my actions. Remorse doesn't begin to cover it. I'm not gonna make excuses, because there's no excuse for what I did, but as I sit here I can assure you: nothing like that will ever happen again. Never.
Lead Panelist: Well, alright. That would seem to be satisfactory. [a panelist raises her finger] Oh, Meg? You have something?
Meg: Mr. McGill, what does the law mean to you?
Jimmy: ...The law? [pause] Uh, yeah. Okay, um... Listen, growing up? Becoming a lawyer was the last thing on my mind. Even if I wanted to, I didn't have the smarts or the skills or the... "stick-to-it-iveness." But, I happened to get a job with some attorneys, and I couldn't help but think, "maybe I could do that?" Something inside me made me wanna try. Now, listen: My diploma says the University of American Samoa Law School, and that's exactly what it sounds like–that's a correspondence school. I wish it said Georgetown, heh, or Northwestern... but UAS was the only one that would take me. 'Cause let me tell ya, I wasn't a natural. I mean, the classes, the studying, trying to pass the bar—practically killed me. I must have quit ten or twelve times, but I kept coming back to it, and I'm—I'm really glad I did, because when I got to work with actual clients... there was nothing else like it. Our legal system is complicated, and sometimes it could feel capricious, but it's the closest thing to real justice that we've got! And for it to work, it needs vigorous, passionate advocates. Helping my clients, arguing on their behalf—that's the best thing I've ever done, and this past year... I've missed the hell out of it.
Meg: ...That was very eloquent. Was there any particular influence... on your views?
Jimmy: ...Um. Credit where credit is due... the University of American Samoa! Go Land-Crabs!

[Kim has just found out about Jimmy's unsuccessful reinstatement hearing. She waits for Jimmy on the top floor of a parking garage. Jimmy's car can be heard screeching from many floors below before he finally arrives]
Jimmy: [angrily gets out of the car] Insincere! INSINCERE!
Kim: Jimmy, what happened?
Jimmy: A goddamn year?! What am I supposed to do for a whole year?!
Kim: Jimmy!
Jimmy: I guarantee I'm not selling cell phones for a fucking year, I'll tell you that!
Kim: What did they say exactly? How did—
Jimmy: A hard pass! And don't tell me I can appeal because once the board hears the word, "insincere", I'm screwed!
Kim: Jimmy...
Jimmy: How do you just prove insincere?!
Kim: Jimmy, please! Jimmy, just take a breath, and start from the beginning. Please.
Jimmy: I was good, Kim. I–I mean, I wasn't stuck up, but I knew my shit! Right?! "What have you been doing during your suspension?", and, "Have you been keeping up with the law?", yadda-yadda. All fine! And then one of them, out of nowhere, comes up with this weird-ass question: "What does the law mean to you?"
Kim: That's a big one.
Jimmy: Huge! And I nailed it! I talked about the meaning of the law, and I was down to earth, and I was humble, and I was sincere. And they loved it!
Kim: S–So...
Jimmy: So, they turned me down!
Kim: Well, there has to be more to it than that.
Jimmy: There's not!
Kim: I don't... What did they say when you talked about Chuck?
Jimmy: What does Chuck have to do with this? What...?
Kim: So, you didn't even...
Jimmy: Why would I?
Kim: [pause] Okay. Okay, um... Okay, listen, we will figure this out. And yes, you will appeal...
Jimmy: They're just gonna rubber stamp...
Kim: ...we'll appeal this, we won't let them! We'll find a way to make you look sincere!
Jimmy: Kim, I was sincere!
Kim: I know that. I meant we will fix it.
Jimmy: I might have been a little corny, but I meant every word!
Kim: I know that.
Jimmy: [pause] You don't believe me.
Kim: Of course I do.
Jimmy: Jesus, it's right there on your face! You think I'm some kind of low-life...
Kim: What?!
Jimmy: ...some kind of asshole kind of lawyer guilty people hire, right?
Kim: No, Jimmy, that—that's not what I...
Jimmy: You look at me, and you see Slippin' Jimmy!
Kim: I never said that!
Jimmy: Yeah, but you thought it!
Kim: You wanna know why the committee called you insincere? Because you didn't mention Chuck!
Jimmy: What does that have to...
Kim: They read the transcripts! They know what happened, Jimmy! They were waiting for you to say something about him!
Jimmy: So I'm supposed to make a big, hairy deal about my dead brother at my reinstatement hearing? How is that sincere?! I don't think about Chuck, okay?! I don't miss Chuck! Chuck was alive, and now he's dead, and that's that! Finito! Life goes on, so sue me! [points at Kim] Th–there it is again! That's why we don't have an office!
Kim: What?! No, do not start on that office! I don't wanna hear another word about that stupid office!
Jimmy: "Stupid office?" Okay, here we go! Here we go!
Kim: Jimmy! I have been on your side since the day we met! Who comes... running when you call?! Who cleans up your messes?! I have a job, but I drop everything for you! Every single time—you confessed to a felony on tape—I'm there! You have a bar hearing? I represent you over and over again! If you need me, I'm there! But somehow, in your mind, the only measure of my feelings for you is—is some office?!
Jimmy: I'm good enough to live with, to sleep with, but God forbid you should have an office with me.
Kim: What are you—I just told you that...
Jimmy: You get a little bored with your life, so you come down, and roll around in the dirt. Have some fun with Slippin' Jimmy...
Kim: Oh, is it fun?!
Jimmy: ...then back up!
Kim: Fun, like lying to the ADA to get your friend out of the shitter? Or fun like standing there with a smile plastered on my face while you play infantile mind games on my law partner?
Jimmy: Oh, what a mistake it was to take me up to your office in the sky! You'll never do that again!
Kim: Yeah, maybe I won't. And maybe next time you call, I won't come.
Jimmy: There you go! Kick a man when he's down!
Kim: Jimmy, you are always down. [scoffs and leaves]

[Jimmy is packing up his things at Kim's apartment after their argument]
Jimmy: [wearily] I messed it all up.
Kim: [long pause] You still want to be a lawyer?
Jimmy: ...Yeah.
Kim: [pause] Well, we can start with that.
Jimmy: Kristy! Miss Esposito, hold up. Hey, Jimmy McGill, hi. We met inside.
Kristy: Oh, hi.
Jimmy: Hi. You didn't get it. You were never going to get it. They— they dangle these things in front of you, they tell ya you got a chance, but... I'm sorry, it's a lie, because they had already made up their minds, and they knew what they were gonna do before you walked in the door. You made a mistake, and... they are never forgetting it. As far as they're concerned, your mistake is just—it's who you are, and it's all you are. And I'm not just talking about the scholarship here, I'm talking about everything; I mean they'll smile at you, they'll pat you on the head but they are never, ever letting you in. But listen, listen—it doesn't matter. It doesn't, because you don't need them. I mean, they're not going to give it to you? So what? You're gonna take it. You're going to do whatever it takes, do you hear me? You are not going to play by the rules. You're gonna go your own way, you're going to do what they won't do, you're gonna be smart, you are gonna cut corners... and you are gonna win. They're on the 35th floor? You're gonna be on the 50th floor. You're gonna be looking down on 'em, and the higher you rise, the more they're gonna hate you. Good. Good. You rub their noses in it. You make them suffer. Because you don't matter all that much to them... so what? So what?! Screw them! Remember, the winner takes it all.
Kristy: ...I've gotta go get my bus.
Jimmy: L-Look, you understand what I'm trying to tell you, right?
Kristy: [pause] Yes. I think I do.
Jimmy: Alright. Alright, go get 'em.

[Mike calls Gus after picking up Werner]
Gus: Yes?
Mike: I got him.
Gus: Where are you now?
Mike: Out by an old raceway off 55, about eight miles north of San Ysidro.
Gus: Where was he?
Mike: Place called Dulce Vega Hot Springs up in Jemez. It's gotta be where his wife is headed. [pause] Something else.
Gus: Yes?
Mike: When I found him, he was on the phone with an interested party pretending to be one of your guys.
Gus: ...What did he tell them?
Mike: Nothing useful.
Gus: You're certain?
Mike: Yes... you have any idea who it was?
Gus: [sighs] I do.
Mike: Alright, I'll bring him in now.
Gus: No. Keep him there. Wait.
Mike: [pause] I'd go another way.
Gus: That, I know.
Mike: [pause] Let it be a mistake!
Gus: This discussion serves no purpose. Wait where you are.
[Mike looks at Werner]
Mike: I'll take care of it.
Gus: ...Are you sure?
Mike: ...Yes.
[Gus hangs up. Mike takes a deep breath]
Mike: Goddamn it.

[Mike has taken Werner to the outskirts of Albuquerque to await Werner's execution under Gus' orders, but has volunteered to kill Werner himself]
Mike: I want to know your end game. What'd you think was going to happen?
Werner: I thought that I would come back, and my friend, Michael, would be very, very angry... but, in time, he would understand and forgive.
Mike: It was never up to me.
Werner: Oh, Michael, look, I know I've made trouble for you and I'm very sorry for the damage I caused. I will repair what I broke with my own hands, but please. Margarethe w-will land any minute. Soon, she will be at the hotel, please. Take me back there. Let us be together for a little, huh? Let her see me and know that everything is okay. [Mike says nothing; pause] Ah, please, Michael. I go back now, I go back in the morning, what difference can it make?
Mike: [wavering] It's not going to happen.
Werner: Let me speak to Mr. Fring. I'll explain everything. I will make him understand.
Mike: You're not gonna talk to Fring.
Werner: Oh, please. I know if I–
Mike: Werner, nothing you're going to say or do is going to make anyone trust you again.
[Werner pauses. He looks around and realizes what is going to happen]
Werner: I will go home. I will never breathe a word of this. Ever. The money? I'll give all of it back. I will tell no one, I s-swear. It will be as if... none of this ever happened. Please, Michael. You know I will keep silent. You know it. Please!
Mike: [pause] Does your wife have a cell phone with her?
Werner: Yes...
Mike: I need you to call her now. [checks watch] She landed an hour ago.
Werner: But she knows nothing!
Mike: And you need to keep it that way. She's being followed!

[Werner finishes a phone call with his wife, sending her back home in an attempt to spare her from Gus]
Mike: Will she do it?
Werner: She was very angry, but yes. She will go home. Michael... if she doesn't hear a word from me, she will ask questions. She will go to the police.
Mike: There'll be a story. An accident. Lawyers will visit, German lawyers. All her questions will be answered.
Werner: This you swear?
Mike: This I swear.
Werner: And my men?
Mike: They're going home. They'll be okay, they're trusted.
Werner: [pause] Is there no other way truly? [Mike says nothing; beat] There are so many stars visible in New Mexico. I will walk out there... to get a better look.
[As Werner walks away, Mike follows him from a distance. Mike takes his loaded gun, and shoots Werner in the back of the head, killing him]

Jimmy: I was just gonna—I was gonna try to move you all with my brother's eloquent words. You know, pull on your heartstrings. But it's not right. This letter is between me and him, and it should stay that way. Listen, my brother Chuck...you—you knew him. He loved me in his own way. He loved me as a brother. He did not love me as a lawyer. Big reason I became a lawyer was Chuck. He was the most brilliant man I ever knew, and an incredible lawyer, you know? And he knew exactly who he was. Exactly. And all my life, I wanted to make him proud, and he was not an easy man to make proud. You know, like climbing Everest without supplies: If you were one of the lucky few who reached that peak, even for a moment, if you made him proud—Wow, what a feeling. And he let you know it, too. But if you weren't one of those people... He—He was polite enough, but he did not suffer fools, you know? And he could be judgmental and difficult, and he knew how to get under your skin. Hmm... could be a real son of a bitch. Chuck was the one who was always right, always. And usually he was, you know? So for a guy like me—I did lousy in school, I lacked ambition, I always cut corners—I mean, for me to live up to the standards of Charles McGill... I mean, look at me. I'll never be as moral as him, I'll never be as smart, I'll never be as respected. I'll never be as good as Chuck. [sniffs] But I can try. I can try. If you decide I get to be a lawyer, I'll do everything in my power to be worthy of the name McGill. And if you decide I'm not a lawyer... doesn't matter. I'll still try to be the best man that I can be. I'm lucky I got this letter. I never had a chance to write him a letter, and to tell him all the things that I should have. But I gotta believe that somehow... somehow he knows. Well, that's... that'll have to do it for me. Sorry... thank you.

Kim: I knew you could do it! I knew you had it in you!
Jimmy: That was so great!
Kim: I mean, yes! They–they have to reinstate you now! They just have to!
Jimmy: Uh, yeah! Did you see those suckers? [Kim is stunned] That one asshole was crying, he had actual tears! Jesus, Kim! Listen, I started reading the letter, and I just knew it wasn't... I could tell by their faces it wasn't gonna be enough, right? So I just went off on this flow, you know? I had this energy going through me, it was like improv, or jazz, and then boom! Sunk the hook in! [acts pensive] "I'm so lucky I have this letter." God! I could see the Matrix, you know! I was invincible! I could dodge bullets, baby! And you were right, you were right – it was all about Chuck! The whole time!
Clerk: Oh, Mr. McGill, you're still here. There's some good news.
Jimmy: Believe me, I already know.
Clerk: Oh, good. Then if you want to come with me to the office, there's some paperwork for you to sign.
Jimmy: Absolutely! Let's do this thing! Oh, and sweetheart, I'm gonna need one more form: a DBA. Y'see, I'm not gonna be practicing under the name "McGill", so...
Clerk: Shouldn't be a problem. Just down the hall. We have all the forms.
Jimmy: Great! Great!
Kim: W-Wait, Jimmy, Jimmy—What?!
Jimmy: [makes finger guns] S'all good, man!
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