Breaking Bad (season 1)

season of television series

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Breaking Bad (2008–2013) was a critically acclaimed American AMC drama about a 50-year-old high school chemistry teacher, Walter White, (played by Bryan Cranston) who discovers that he has terminal lung cancer. Walter decides to use his extensive knowledge of chemistry to enter the drug trade and produce crystal methamphetamine, using the profits to provide for his family after his death. The term to "break bad" is American Southeast slang meaning to turn against one's previously lawful lifestyle for one of criminal acts, usually at the cost of someone else's life or well-being.

Pilot [1.01]Edit

Walter: My name is Walter Hartwell White. I live at 308 Negra Arroyo Lane, Albuquerque, New Mexico, 87104. To all law enforcement entitles, this is not an admission of guilt. I am speaking to my family now. Skyler, you are the love of my life. I hope you know that. Walter Junior, you're my big man. There are...there are going to be some things that you'll come to learn about me in the next few days. I just want you to know that no–no matter how it may look, I only had you in my heart. Goodbye.

Walt Jr.: So, how's it feel to be old?
Walter: How does it feel to be a smart ass?

Walter: Go, Walt Jr., go out and sling to the extreme!
Walt Jr.: I will! Thank you, daddy!

Jesse: Why are you here?
Walter: I was curious. Honestly, I never expected you to amount to much, but methamphetamine? I didn't picture that. There's a lot of money in it, huh?
Jesse: I don't know what you're talking about.
Walter No?
Jesse: Not a clue.
Walter: "Cap'n Cook?" That's not you? Like I said, no one is looking for you.
Jesse: Look, I don't know what you think you're doing here, Mr. White. I mean, if you're planning on giving me some bullshit about getting right with Jesus by turning myself in...
Walter: Not really.
Jesse: High school was a long time ago. You ain't Welcome Back, Kotter, so step off. No speeches.
Walter: Short speech. You lost your partner today. What's his name – Emilio? Emilio is going to prison. The DEA took all your money, your lab. You got nothing. Square one. But you know the business. And I know the chemistry. I'm thinking...maybe you and I could partner up.
Jesse: You, want to cook crystal meth? You. You and, uh...and me?
Walter: That's right. Either that...or I turn you in.

Walter: Did you learn nothing from my chemistry class?
Jesse: No. You flunked me; remember?
Walter: No wonder.
Jesse: Prick! And let me tell you something else, this ain't chemistry. This is art. Cooking is art. And the shit I cook is the bomb, so don't be telling me.
Walter: The shit you cook is shit. I saw your set-up. Ridiculous. You and I will not make garbage. We will produce a chemically pure and stable product that performs as advertised. No adulterants. No baby formula. No chili powder.
Jesse: No, no, chili P is my signature, man!
Walter: Not anymore.

Walter: Why do you do it?
Jesse: Money! Mainly..
Walter: There you go.
Jesse: Nah, come on, Man, some straight like you, giant stick up his ass, all of a sudden at age what, 60, he's just gonna break bad?
Walter: I'm 50.
Jesse: It's weird is all, okay? It doesn't compute. Listen, if you've gone crazy or something; I mean, if you've gone crazy or depressed, I'm just saying that's something I need to know about. Okay? I mean, that affects me.
Walter: I am awake.
Jesse: What?
Walter: Buy the RV. We start tomorrow.

Cat's in the Bag [1.02]Edit

Walter: After we finish cleaning up this mess, we will go our separate ways. Our paths will never cross and we will tell this to no one. Understood?
Jesse: Oh what, I can talk now? [pause] Fine! That goes double for me!
[Walter and Jesse hear a moan. They turn around and notice Krazy-8 is still barely alive]
Jesse: Oh shit.

Jesse: Mr. White? Are you smoking weed? Oh my God! Wait a minute, is that my weed? What the hell, man? Make yourself at home, why don't you?
Walter: So what did you end up buying?
Jesse: Nothing. No store in town sells a plastic bin big enough for a body.
Walter: I don't suppose you could buy two bins... [makes a sawing motion] Legs in one, torso in the other?
Jesse: God. I don't suppose you could kiss my ass?

Skyler: Who's this Jesse Pinkman to you?
Walter: He...sells me pot.
Skyler: He sells you pot?
Walter: Marijuana, yeah. Not a lot. I mean, I don't know. I kind of like it.
Skyler: Are you out of your mind? What are you, like sixteen years old? Your brother-in-law is a DEA agent! What is wrong with you?
Walter: Skyler, I just...haven't quite been myself lately.
Skyler: Yeah, no shit. Thanks for noticing.
Walter: I haven't been myself lately, but I love you. Nothing about that has changed, nothing ever will. So right now, what I need is for you to climb down out of my ass. Can you do that? Will you do that for me, honey? Will you please, just once, get off my ass, you know? I'd appreciate it, I really would.

Jesse: You got a brother in the goddamned DEA?!
Walt: What?
Jesse: You said you were just doing some ride-along! Yes or no, do you have a brother in the DEA?
Walt: Brother-in-law.
Jesse: Oh, now there's a load off my mind.
Walt: Where did you hear that?
Jesse: Your freaking wife told me when she was here all up on my shit! Yeah, that's right. She almost caught me moving Emilio! Good job wearing the pants in the family! And why did you go telling her I was selling you weed?
Walt: Because somehow it seemed preferable to admitting that I cook crystal meth and killed a man.

Walt: [after Jesse's ceiling caves in, dumping bloody offal onto the floor] I'm sorry, what were you asking me? Oh, yes, that stupid plastic container I asked you to buy. You see, hydrofluoric acid won't eat through plastic; it will however dissolve metal, rock, glass, ceramic... so there's that.

...And the Bag's in the River [1.03]Edit

Walter: We've got work to do.
Jesse: No, no! You! You've got work to do! I did my part!
Walter: You mean that obscenity that I spent the last two hours cleaning up?! That is your contribution?!
Jesse: Yo, kiss my pink ass, man! I didn't ask for any of this! How am I supposed to live here now, huh?! My whole house smells like toe cheese and dry cleaning!
Walter: Because you didn't follow my instructions!
Jesse: Oh well, heil Hitler, bitch! And let me tell you something else. 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!

Walter Jr.: So why are you telling me this?
Hank: 'Cause I love you, you little bastard.

Krazy-8: Walter, you getting to know me is not gonna make it any easier for you to kill me. Not that I mind, you understand.
Walter: You know, you keep telling me that I don't have it in me. Well, maybe, maybe not. I sure as hell am looking for any reason not to. I mean, any good reason at all. Sell me. Tell me what it is.
Krazy-8: I guess I'd start off by promising that if you let me go, I won't come after you. That you'd be safe. I guess I'd say what happened between us never happened. And what's best for both parties is we forget all about it. But you know that anybody in my situation would make promises like that, and though in my case they happen to be true, you'd never know for sure. So what else can I tell you?
Walter: I don't know. But you gotta convince me and you're going nowhere until you do.

[Walter approaches Krazy-8, now aware he is hiding a shattered plate piece to stab Walter once released]
Krazy-8: You're doing the right thing, Walter.
Walter: Do you want to... [motions for Krazy-8 to turn around so he can unlock the chain. Krazy-8 turns around] So you're not angry?
Krazy-8: How do you mean? Angry? No. Live and let live, man.
Walter: That's very understanding.
Krazy-8: Whatever, man. I just want to go home.
Walter: Me too.
Krazy-8: Unlock me, Walter.
Walter: The moment I do, are you gonna stick me with that broken piece of plate?
[Walter pulls back on the lock, choking Krazy-8. Krazy-8 attempts to swing the plate piece behind him but can only stab Walter's leg a few times. Krazy-8 slowly dies]
Walter: I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...

[in a flashback to Walter's younger days]
Walter: I don't know. Just...doesn't it seem like...something's missing?
Gretchen: What about the soul?
Walter: The soul? There's nothing but chemistry here.

Cancer Man [1.04]Edit

Hank: So be on notice. We got new players in town. We don't know who they are, where they come from, but they possess an extremely high skill-set. Me personally? I'm thinking Albuquerque just might have a new kingpin.

Walter: I have cancer. Lung cancer. It's bad.

[Walter sees Jesse sneak into his backyard]
Walter: You can't be serious. What the hell are you doing here?
Jesse: Yo, I waited 'til the ball buster left. I mean, no offense.
Walter: Who sent you? You wearing a wire? You setting me up?
Jesse: A wire? You want a wire? I got a wire. [grabs crotch] Speak into the mic, bitch! What the hell's wrong with you? A wire. Jesus!
Walter: So who did you tell about–
Jesse: Nobody! What are you, nuts?
Walter: Then why are you here?
Jesse: I don't know. To like...touch base.
Walter: Touch base?
Jesse: Yeah, you know...what you call...a debrief? Maybe we could like...I thought we could debrief.
Walter: Wow, that's...that's what you think we need, to debrief?
Jesse: Yeah, after what happened, it just seems like the thing to do. Kind of, you know, talk about it. We can't talk to anybody else. Anyway, that and I wanted to...I wanted to tell you how much everybody digs that meth we cooked.
Walter: Everybody digs...the meth we cooked.
Jesse: Seriously, I got dudes that would give their left nut for a little more.
Walter: Great.
Jesse: I'm just saying, if you ever...saw your way clear know, you and a little more.
Walter: Get the hell off my property.
Jesse: What? I'm just saying.
Walter: Go and don't come back. Now!
Jesse: Alright. You know what? [Jesse takes out a wad of cash] Four grand. Your share from selling that batch. That's why I'm here. Yeah, that's right. I didn't smoke it all. [Jesse tosses the money into Walter's pool and leaves]

Jesse: Right on, little bro! Making mad in-roads with the business community.

Skyler: Can I call them and tell them you'll start next week?
Walter: I just think that we need to...discuss it a little more, that's all.
Skyler: What is there to discuss? You're going to get the best treatment and he's the best.
Walter: Well, there's the money discussion. $90,000 out of pocket. Maybe more.
Skyler: There's a way, Walt. There's financing, there's installment plans. I could always go back to work. Walt, there's always a way.
Walter: Alright. Skyler, say that there is a way, and we spend all that money, I supposed to leave you with all that debt? I just don't want emotions ruling us. Maybe treatment isn't the way to go.
Walter Jr.: Then why don't you just fucking die already? Just give up and die.

Gray Matter [1.05]Edit

Jesse: Yo, why would you want this lame-ass job anyway? I mean, no offense.
Badger: Because I'm on probation, yo. Gotta prove to the man I'm rehabilitated. [smokes a joint]

Walter: Well, back when Elliott and I were in grad school, we came up with the name. Schwartz: black. Walter White. So together, they became Gray Matter Technologies.
Farley: Cute, huh?
Man: So you run the company with Elliott?
Walter: Well, no. No, that's Gretchen and Elliott. I gravitated toward education.
Man: What university?
[Walter clears his throat and takes a drink]

Walter: Alright, I've got the Talking Pillow now. Okay? We all, in this room, love each other. We want what's best for each other and I know that. I am very thankful for that. But...what I want...what I want, what I need, is a choice.
Skyler: What does that...mean?
Walter: Sometimes I feel like I never actually make any of my own. Choices, I mean. My entire life, it just seems I know, had a real say about any of it. Now this last one, cancer...all I have left is how I choose to approach this.
Skyler: Then make the right choice, Walt. You're not the only one it affects. What about your son? Don't you wanna see your daughter grow up? I just...
Walter: Of course I do. Skyler, you've read the statistics. These doctors...talking about surviving. One year, two years, like it's the only thing that matters. But what good is it, to just survive if I am too sick to work, to enjoy a meal, to make love? For what time I have left, I want to live in my own house. I want to sleep in my own bed. I don't wanna choke down 30 or 40 pills every single day, lose my hair, and lie around too tired to get up...and so nauseated that I can't even move my head. And you cleaning up after me? Me...some dead man, some artificially alive...just marking time? No. No. And that's how you would remember me. That's the worst part. So...that is my thought process, Skyler. I'm sorry. I just...I choose not to do it.

Jesse: Yo.
Walter: Wanna cook?

Crazy Handful of Nothin' [1.06]Edit

Walter: Let's get something straight. This – the chemistry – is my realm. I am in charge of the cooking. Out there on the street, you deal with that. As far as our customers go, I don't want to know anything about them. I don't need to see them. I don't want to hear from them. I want no interaction with them whatsoever. This operation is you and me, and I'm the silent partner. You got any issues with that?
Jesse: Whatever, man.
Walter: No matter what happens, no more bloodshed. No violence.
[cut to a brief flash forward of Walter, with a shaved head and bloody nose, walking away from a chaotic scene with a smoking building in the background. He is holding a bag with blood on it]

Jesse: When were you going to tell me?
Walter: Tell you what?
Jesse: Cancer. You got it, right?
Walter: How did you know?
Jesse: [pointing to Walter's chemo mark on his chest] My aunt had one of those...dots on her to target the radiation. What is it, in your lung? I'm your partner, man. You should have told me. That's not cool, okay? Not at all. What stage are you?
Walter: 3-A.
Jesse: Gone to your lymph nodes.
Walter: Your aunt...How bad was she when they caught it?
Jesse: Bad enough. She didn't last long.
Walter: How long?
Jesse: Seven months. I get it now. That's why you're doing all this. You want to make some cash for your people before you check out.
Walter: You got a problem with that?
Jesse: You tell me. You're the one that looks like you just crawled out of a microwave.

Walter: We have to move our production bulk wholesale now. How do we do that?
Jesse: What do you mean? To, like, a distributor?
Walter: Yes. Yes, that's what we need. We need a distributor now. Do you know anyone like that?
Jesse: Yeah. I mean, I used to until you killed him.

Walter Jr.: [upon seeing Walter's shaved head] Badass, dad.

[Walter enters Tuco's office, as he examines a sample of the pound of meth Walter brought with him]
Tuco: What's your name?
Walter: Heisenberg.
Tuco: Heisenberg. Okay. Have a seat, Heisenberg..
Walter: I don't imagine I'll be here very long.
Tuco: No? Alright, be that way. It's your meeting. Why don't you start talking and tell me what you want?
Walter: $50,000.
Tuco: [laughs] Oh man! Fifty G's? How you figure that?
Walter: 35 for the pound of meth you stole and another fifteen for my partner's pain and suffering.
Tuco: Partner? [puts a cigarette out on his tongue] Oh yeah, I remember that little bitch! So you must be daddy. [bursts out laughing] Let me get this straight: I steal your dope, I beat the piss out of your mule boy, and then you walk in here, and you bring me more meth? [laughs] Woo! That's a brilliant plan, esé.
Gonzo: Brilliant.
Walter: You got one part of that wrong. [reaches out and picks up the crystal Tuco had examined] This... is not meth.
[Walter throws the piece to the floor. The impact causes a tremendous explosion which knocks everyone off their feet and blows out all the windows in Tuco's office. Walter grabs the bag in the midst of the smoke.]
Tuco: Are you fucking nuts?!
Walter: [holding the bag threateningly over his head] You wanna find out?
[Tuco's men get to their feet and draw their guns]
Tuco: No-Doze, Gonzo, calma! Calma. Calma. You got balls, I'll give you that. Alright... alright. I'll give you your money.
[Tuco opens his safe and hands Walter a sack filled with $50,000.]
Tuco: That crystal your partner brought me, it sold faster than $10 ass in T.J. What say you bring me another pound next week?
Walter: Money up front.
Tuco: Alright. Money up front. Sometimes you got to rob to keep your riches, just as long as we got an understanding.
Walter: One pound is not going to cut it. You have to take two.
Tuco: Orale. [points to Walter's bag] Hey, what is that shit?
Walter: Fulminated mercury, and a little tweak of chemistry.

A No-Rough-Stuff-Type Deal [1.07]Edit

[Turned on by the danger of the meth investigation, Walter has sex with Skyler in their car]
Skyler: Where...did that come from? And why was it so damn good?
Walter: Because it was illegal.

[Walter and Jesse are meeting Tuco at a junkyard]
Jesse: A junkyard? Let me guess, you picked this place?
Walter: What's wrong with it? It's private.
Jesse: This is...This is like a...a non-criminal's idea of a drug meet. This is like, "Oh, I saw this in a movie. Ooh, look at me."
Walter: Yeah, where do you transact business? Enlighten me.
Jesse: I don't know. How about Taco Cabeza? Half the deals I've ever done went down at Taco Cabeza. Nice and public. Open twenty-four hours. Nobody ever gets shot at Taco Cabeza. Hell, why not the mall? You know, wait at the Gap. "Hey! It's time for the meet!" You know, I'll put down the flat-front khakis, head on over, grab an Orange Julius. Skip the part where psycho lunatic Tuco, you know, comes and steals my drugs and leaves me bleeding to death.

Jesse: Four pounds. Four pounds – like 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.
Walter: We're not going to need pseudoephedrine. We're going to make phenylacetone in a tube furnace, then we're going to use reductive amination to yield methamphetamine. Four pounds.
Jesse: So no pseudo?
Walter: No pseudo.
Jesse: So you do have a plan! Yeah Mr. White! Yeah science!

[Walter is preparing home-made thermite in Jesse's kitchen for their raid on the chemical supply warehouse.]
Jesse: So what's this stuff called again?
Walter: Thermite.
Jesse: And that'll cut through a lock? Because this is supposed to be one big-ass lock.
Walter: In World War II, the Germans had an artillery piece – it's the biggest in the world – called the Gustav Gun, and it weighed a thousand tons. And the Gustav was capable of firing a seven-ton shell and hitting a target – accurately – twenty-three miles away. [chuckles] I mean, you could drop bombs on it every day for a month without ever disabling it. But, drop a commando – one man – with just a bag of this... and he could melt right through four inches of solid steel and destroy that gun forever.
[He tosses the bag of thermite to Jesse, who flinches as he catches it.]
Jesse: Jeez.
Walter: So yes, I think it'll cut through any lock we're likely to find.

[Walter and Jesse meet Tuco and his men at the junkyard with their new meth]
Tuco: What is this shit? This is blue.
Walter: We used a different chemical process, but it is every bit as pure.
Jesse: It may be blue, but it's the bomb.
Tuco: [snorts meth] Tight! Tight, tight, yeah! Oh, blue, yellow, pink, whatever, man! Just keep bringing me that!
No-Doze: [weighing the bag of meth] Four point six.
Tuco: Uh! Come on. [Gonzo hands the money to Walter and Jesse] What did I say, man? This guy can cook! You're all right, man. You're all right. We're going to make a lot of money together.
No-Doze: [with a lot of attitude] Just remember who you're working for.
Tuco: [angered, he turns and faces him] What did you say?
No-Doze: I'm just saying they got to know that they're working for you.
Tuco: Like they don't already know that? Are you saying they're stupid?
No-Doze: No, I'm just...I'm just saying.
Tuco: Oh yeah, so you're not saying they're stupid. So I don't understand. Are you saying that I'm stupid?
No-Doze: No, come on, Tuco. I'm just...I'm just saying.
Tuco: No, you're just speaking for me! Like I ain't got the goddamn sense to speak for myself! Is that it? Is that what you're doing?
Walter: Tuco. Tuco, hey, why don't we just all relax, huh?
Tuco: [laughs] Heisenberg says "relax". Orale, homes. I'm relaxed. I'm relaxed. I'm relaxed.
[Tuco punches No-Doze in the face. Tuco proceeds to punch him over and over while he is on the ground, leaving him bloody and possibly dead]
Tuco: [showing off his bloody knuckles] Wooo! Damn, man! Look at that! Look! Yeah, that's messed up! Okay, Heisenberg! Next week. [chuckles]
[Tuco and Gonzo drive off with No-Doze's bloody body. Walter and Jesse look at each other in horror.]

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