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Breaking Bad (season 3)

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.

No Más [3.01]

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[Walter grabs a duffel bag filled with his drug money, but Hank also grabs it]
Hank: Whoa, whoa, no heavy lifting. I got it.
Walter: No, it's okay.
Hank: I got it – Jesus, what you got in there, cinder blocks?
Walter: [thinks for a few seconds] Half a million in cash.
Hank: [chuckles] That's the spirit!
[Walter addresses the assembled students in the gym]
Walter: I guess what I would want to say is to look on the bright side. First of all, nobody on the ground was killed, and that– I mean, an incident like this over a populated urban center– that right there, that's–that's just gotta be some minor miracle, so... Plus, neither plane was full. You know, the–the 737 was–was what? Maybe two-thirds full, I believe? Right, yes? Or maybe even three-quarters full. On any rate, what you're left with casualty-wise is just the 50th-worst air disaster. Actually, tied for 50th. There are, in truth, 53 crashes throughout history that are just as bad or worse. Tenerife? Has–has anybody–anybody heard of Tenerife? No? In 1977, two fully-loaded 747s crashed into each other on Tenerife. Does anybody know how big a 747 is? I mean, it's way bigger than a 737, and we're talking about two of them. Nearly 600 people died from Tenerife. But do any of you even remember it at all? Any of you? I doubt it. You know why? It's because people move on. They just move on. And we will, too. We will move on and we will get past this. Because that is what human beings do, we survive. And, uh... we survive, and we–we overcome. We survive. We survive, and...
[Carmen approaches Walter and asks for the microphone]
Walter: I love you, Skyler. And I would do anything for you. Would you even consider, I mean...Jesus! You come in here and you wave these papers in my face, when there's a whole other entire side to this thing. There's your side and there's my side, and you haven't heard my side yet. You haven't heard any of it all.
Skyler: You're a drug dealer.
Walter: No. How...What?
Skyler: Yeah. How else could you possibly make that kind of money? Marijuana. That Pinkman kid. [Walter is silent] No? Oh my God, Walt. Cocaine?
Walter: ...It's methamphetamine. But I'm a manufacturer, I'm not a dealer.
Skyler: [shocked] Oh...
Walter: Per se. I...it doesn't mean... [Skyler gets up and heads to the door] No, Skyler! Listen to me, Skyler! [Walter grabs her arm] Listen.
Skyler: No!
Walter: There are a lot of angles to this, okay? It's complicated, all right? So please listen. Please, let's just sit back down and we'll talk it through.
Skyler: I'm going to make you a deal, Walt. I won't tell Hank and I won't tell your children or anybody else. Nobody will hear it from me, but only if you grant me this divorce and stay out of our lives.
Walter: No, Skyler...
Skyler: I mean it. Now let me the hell out of here before I throw up.
Jesse: You either run from things or you face them, Mr. White.
Walter: Now what exactly does that mean?
Jesse: I learned it in rehab. It's all about accepting who you really are. I accept who I am.
Walter: And who are you?
Jesse: I'm the bad guy.
Gus: I have an offer that I think would be of interest to you.
Walter: I, uh, actually am not here to... I'm here because I owe you the courtesy and respect to tell you this personally. I'm done. It has nothing to do with you personally. I find you extraordinarily professional, and I appreciate the way you do business. I'm just... making a change in my life is what it is, and I'm- I'm at something of a crossroads... and it's brought me to a realization: I am not a criminal. No offense to any people who are, but... this is not me.
Gus: I'd like you to hear my offer, notwithstanding.
Walter: It won't change my mind, I'm sorry.
Gus: Three million dollars for three months of your time. Three months, then out.
Walter: ...Three million?
Gus: May I take this as a yes?
Walter: (sighs) I have money. I have more money than I know how to spend. What I don't have is my family. The answer is still no.
Gus: ...Enjoy your meal.
[Gus and Walter shake hands]

Caballo sin Nombre [3.02]

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Walter: What? What, you don't believe me?
Officer Cavanaugh: Sir, regardless of how that windshield was damaged, this car is unsafe to drive in this condition. Stay in the car, please.
Walter: Wait. Wait just a minute. Just one minute.
Officer Cavanaugh: Sir, I asked you to stay in the vehicle.
Walter: No, no, no. I can get out of my own damn car.
Officer Cavanaugh: Sir, listen-- No, no, no.
Walter: You listen to me. It's time for you to listen to me.
Officer Cavanaugh: Sir, what you need to do is take a deep breath, calm down--
Walter: This is America.
Officer Cavanaugh: --and get back in that car now.
Walter: I have rights. Do you understand that? At least have the common decency to hear me out.
Officer Cavanaugh: I need you to step back right now.
Walter: Did you even hear what I said?
Officer Cavanaugh: Sir, calm down.
Walter: Now you're giving me a ticket? I told you that my house was in the debris field. Do you have the remotest inkling of what that means?
Officer Cavanaugh: Sir, calm down.
Walter: Hellfire rained down on my house!
Officer Cavanaugh: Sir, I need you to step back now.
Walter: Where my children sleep!
Walter: God...It's a disaster.
Saul: It is not a disaster. It's not a disaster, alright? She's not going to the cops, she's not telling a living soul. You wanna know why? One word: blowback. If she blabs, it'll be a disaster – for her. That DEA brother-in-law? Screwed! You were right under his nose. He'll be lucky if they let him bust glue sniffers at the hobby shop. The kids? Paging Dr. Phil! "My daddy's a drug dealer and my mommy turned him in!" And the house? Gone! The feds will come in and RICO her and the kids out on the street. Good luck arguing with them on that, noooo. It's not gonna happen. She's bluffing. And she knows it.
[The Pinkmans and their lawyer, Mr. Gardiner, receive an offer from an unknown buyer, represented by Saul Goodman]
Mrs. Pinkman: You're not that lawyer from late-night television, are you?
Saul: [points] "Better Call Saul!" [laughs] I get it all the time!
Gardiner: We're here to discuss the sale of the property at 9809 Margo.
Saul: I get it. [sits down] Flat-fee clients, am I right? [to the Pinkmans] Well, folks, today's your lucky day! I represent a client who shall remain nameless–however, for our purposes, you might just as well visualize a large bag of money. This individual wants to buy your house, today, for cash.
Mrs. Pinkman: Cash?
Saul: Cash! I know, in this economy? In fact, the money is already burnin' a hole in my client's account. You can ask Mr. Gardiner; I've shown him all the pertinent financials.
Gardiner: It's the only reason we're sitting here.
Saul: ...Fair enough. We, uh, get a few papers signed and notarized and we can take care of this right now. [to the Pinkmans] In fact, I could wire you your money this very afternoon! There's just one little hair in the soup, ah... the price.
Gardiner: [beat] We feel 875 is very fair.
Mr. Pinkman: But I suppose there's always a little, uh... wiggle room?
Saul: Well, uh... why don't you wiggle us on down to 400, and you got yourselves a deal.
Mr. Pinkman: 400,000? What is that, a joke?
Saul: No, that's my offer.
Mrs. Pinkman: That's less than half price!
Mr. Pinkman: We put almost that much into the renovations alone.
Gardiner: Why don't you cut the clown act and tell us what you're willing to come up to?
Saul: 400,000. That's my final offer.
[The Pinkmans and Mr. Gardiner get up in disgust]
Mrs. Pinkman: Well, this was a waste of time.
Mr. Pinkman: Ridiculous! You gotta be kidding me! Come on, honey.
Gardiner: How could you possibly imagine that we would entertain this?
Saul: I don't know. I just thought some allowance was in order once I heard about the meth lab. [everyone stops] The one that used to be in the basement. I looked over your signed disclosure statements, and I don't see any mention of a meth lab. [flips through them] Nope... oh, you got your termite inspection! That's good... but no meth lab. Now, some would call that fraud in service of concealing a felony. I, myself, am more open-minded, but... it is tricky. And don't get me wrong: I applaud your cojones! I mean, good try of sneaking a meth-contaminated property past the buyer. I mean... tsk, could have been a good deal for you. Too bad. Now, I could file a suit and encumber this property indefinitely, or I could start some criminal proceedings, but I don't think any of us want that, now do we? How about it, counselor? Do you concur?
Walter: Skyler...I mean, what kind of example do we wanna set here, right? I mean, can't we at least just sit down and eat a piece of pizza together? Just hash things out like adults?
Skyler: We have discussed everything we need to discuss. I thought I made myself very clear.
Walter: ...I've got dipping sticks.
[The Pinkmans just sold Jesse's old house at a much lower price to an unknown person who knew about Jesse's meth lab]
Mr. Pinkman: Breaking even is not so bad. In this economy, a lot of people would kill to break even.
Mrs. Pinkman: Poor Jake had his heart set on going to Space Camp.
[Jesse pulls up in his car]
Mrs. Pinkman: Oh no.
Mr. Pinkman: God, this is all we need.
Jesse: Mom. Dad. How's it going?
[Jesse walks to the house]
Mr. Pinkman: Jesse, it's really not a good time.
Mrs. Pinkman: Jesse, the house has been sold. The new owners are expected at any moment. Where do you think you're going?
Jesse: [jingles his key] Inside. I bought the place.

I.F.T. [3.03]

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Juan: Don Salamanca had a nephew named Tuco.
Gus: Yes, I knew of him.
Juan: Then perhaps you know Don Salamanca mentored him in the business. Thought of Tuco as a son. When Don Salamanca was no longer able, Tuco took over for his uncle. He was a key man in our organization north of the border. He was loyal. This "Heisenberg" – Walter White – he was one of Tuco's local suppliers. Until he betrayed Tuco. So now you see...blood must be repaid by blood. Tuco's cousins here...they have the right to exact vengeance. The Salamanca family, the cartel...everyone stands shoulder to shoulder on this.
[Hector rings the bell in affirmation]
Juan: I don't tell you how to fry your chickens, Gustavo. You should really leave matters of my organization's politics to me.
Gus: Do I not run my own territory?
Juan: Of course you do. And I will advise them to be patient. But I recommend you finish your business with the man quickly. Or you risk losing the good graces of the cartel. That would not be wise. And those boys inside, I cannot guarantee that they will listen. They are...not like you and I.
[Her lawyer advises Skyler to report Walt to police.]
Skyler: Walt has lung cancer. His treatment bought him some time, but the doctors, they all say that sooner or later... I can't see why I should lay all this on my family when things may...resolve themselves on their own without anyone else knowing.
Walter: I've done a terrible thing. But I've done it for a good reason. I did it for us. That [points to the duffel bag of money] is college tuition for Walter Jr. And Holly, eighteen years down the road. And it's health insurance for you and the kids. For Jr.'s physical therapy. His SAT tutor. It's money for groceries, gas, for birthdays and graduation parties. Skyler, that money is for this roof over your head. The mortgage that you are not going to be able to afford on a part-time bookkeeper's salary when I'm gone.
Skyler: Walt, I–
Walter: Please. Please. This money, I didn't steal it. It doesn't belong to anyone else. I earned it. The things I've...done to earn it...they...the things I've had to do...I've got to live with them. Skyler, all that I've done, all the sacrifices that I've made for this family, all of it, will be for nothing if you don't accept what I've earned. Please. I'll be here when you get home from work. You can give me your answer then.
Skyler: I fucked Ted.

Green Light [3.04]

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[Saul and Mike are listening to a recording of Walter and Skyler fighting]
Walter: You think this will get me to move out? You can screw Ted, you can screw the butcher, the mailman, whoever you want! Screw all! I'm not going anywhere.
Skyler: Suit yourself.
Saul: Is this a good or bad thing?
Walter: Suit myself...You want me to suit myself?! I'll suit myself to his face!
Saul: It's a bad thing.
Walter: How did you know?
Saul: I'm sorry?
Walter: About Skyler. About where to find me just now. How did you know?
Saul: That's just my meticulousness. Don't bog down in detail, Walt. The lesson here–
Walter: Did you bug my house?
Saul: ...Yeah. But I didn't know it was your house, did I? You moved out. Besides, you basically told me to.
Walter: I told you to?
Saul: You strongly hinted that I should. You were worried about your wife, remember? You were concerned that she might say something to the police.
Walter: No, no, that's not true. When the hell did I say that?
Saul: Let's not get lost in the who, whats and whens. The point is we did our due diligence and she didn't talk. She kept quiet, she stood by you, Walt. Which, if you ask me, is the ironical silver lining here. I mean, on the one hand, sure, she snuck off the reservation to get some dirty damp and deep. On the other–
[Walter grabs Saul and the two begin struggling on the floor. Mike rolls his eyes, strolls over to them and breaks it up]
Walter: YOU'RE FIRED! YOU'RE DONE!
Saul: Good! "Oh boo-hoo, I won't cook meth anymore!" You're a crybaby! Who needs you?! Hey, I'm unplugging the website, so no more money laundering! How do you like that?!
Walter: I want those bugs out of my house today! I want them out now!
Saul: You just bought a $300 suit, psycho!
Hank: [interrogating a meth head] So...let me get this straight, Russell. You got this meth from "some dude" wearing khaki pants, who – you're 80% sure – had a mustache. And that's it? That's your brain working at full capacity?
Walter: This is very shoddy work, Pinkman. I'm actually embarrassed for you.
Jesse: What? No way. I gave out samples and everyone said it was the bomb.
Walter: Oh, they said it was the bomb? And who are they, I wonder? A bunch of meth heads?
Jesse: Yeah, and they should know, right?
Walter: Yeah, well, sorry. I can't help you.
Jesse: Fine, asswad. You know what? I'll contact the guy myself.
Walter: Oh yeah? Well, good luck because my guy's a pro and he doesn't deal with junkies.
Jesse: Hey, you know what? Eat me!
Walter: Anytime, loser!
Mike: The good news is for stage three cancer, the guy's doing well. Physically. Mentally, the guy's a disaster. He's gone off the rails over this thing with his wife. My opinion: he's not coming back. Not on his own. Your friends were at his place again, by the way. They drew something on the street outside his house. The Scythe.
Gus: Animals... Does the lawyer know?
Mike: Should he?
Gus: No.
Mike: If you want this guy to produce again, why not just tell him? You're the only thing that stands between him and an axe to the head.
Gus: I do not believe fear to be an effective motivator. I want investment. For now, I'm simply interested in time frame. He will live for the foreseeable future, yes?
Mike: Hmm, foreseeable. Couple of years at least, barring acts of God or men with axes.

Más [3.05]

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Skinny Pete: That was... [vomits] ...awesome, bro later...
Walter: Waffle House...?
Messy: Waffle House
Gus: I am told his product was more or less consistent with the quality I come to expect.
Walter: More or less? More or less, really? Wow. Boy this... Talk about setting the bar low. Except you don't do that, set the bar low. Therefore, what conclusion am I left to draw? That you believe I have some proprietary kind of selfishness about my own formula? Some sort of overweening pride that you think simply overwhelms me, clouds my judgment?
Gus: But it doesn't?
Walter: Absolutely not. I simply respect the chemistry. The chemistry must be respected.
Walter: I have made a series of very bad decisions and I cannot make another one.
Gus: Why did you make these decisions?
Walter: For the good of my family.
Gus: Then they weren't bad decisions. What does a man do, Walter? A man provides for his family.
Walter: This cost me my family.
Gus: When you have children, you always have family. They will always be your priority, your responsibility, and a man, a man provides. And he does it even when he's not appreciated or respected or even loved. He simply bears up and he does it. Because he's a man, Walter.
Saul: Clearly a mistake was made on the part of our mutual associate when he paid you half of Jesse's earnings. He must not have realized that you two had come to a parting of the ways.
[Walter places a paper bag filled with the money on the desk]
Walter: Take it. It belongs to you.
Jesse: You're damn right it belongs to me.
Saul: I knew I could count on you boys to play nice! That's...that almost brings a tear to my eye.
Walter: Enjoy it. Spend it in good health. That is the last money you'll ever earn in this business.
Jesse: What the hell is that supposed to mean?
Walter: I hate to break it you, Jesse, but our "mutual associate" was only using you to get to me.
Jesse: What are you talking about?
Walter: You see, he needs someone with expertise. Someone who knows what he's doing. In other words, he needs me.
Jesse: You're telling me you're cooking again?
Walter: Yeah, how should I put this? I'm in...you're out.
Saul: Whoa, Walt, hold on there! What was the offer, if I may ask?
Walter: It's, uh, $3 million for three months of my time.
Saul: You're gonna need that money laundered, right? I mean, of course. What was our deal before? Seventeen percent. That's a shade high. Now let's settle on an even fifteen. That's a nice round number.
Walter: Five percent.
Saul: Fourteen's fair.
Walter: Five.
Saul: Thirteen.
Walter: Five.
Saul: Twelve, for old time's sake. Twelve.
Walter: Five.
Saul: I'm a reasonable guy, it's a short term deal. Ten even, but I can't go any lower and still respect myself. [Walter turns to leave] Five!
Jesse: What in the hell just happened? You're MY lawyer, not his!
Saul: It's the way of the world, kid. Go with the winner.

Sunset [3.06]

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Badger: That is awesome, Jesse! I feel like somebody took my brain out and boiled it in, like, boiling hot, like...like, Anthrax.
Jesse: [laughs] Good. So, um you ready to talk some business?
Skinny Pete: You mean, this is not, like, just recreational?
Jesse: I know what you're thinking. Trust me. It's not going to be like it was-- all right, never gonna be like it was.
Skinny Pete: How's that?
Jesse: We sell it safe. All right? We sell it smart. We don't get greedy, like before.
Skinny Pete: I don't know, man. Combo and all.
Badger Still. Man's gotta make his living. If it's like Jesse says and we're not greedy I mean, I guess I can see it.
Skinny Pete: Had a good thing going before we started pushing our luck.If it can go back to being like that and all--
Jesse: Hey, it will be. Step 1-- we build inventory. Badger, go see Clovis. Get the RV in shape-- tune up, oil change, brake lights, and whatnot. Cops always pull you over for brake lights. Not us. Cautious.
Walter: [to Walt Junior, in the car] I am the man that I am, son...
Walter: Listen, we got a problem. A DEA problem.
Saul: Okay, I'm listening.
Walter: It's my brother-in-law. He knows about the RV.
Saul: What RV?
Walter: Our RV. The one which contains a meth lab which is covered with my fingerprints. Ring a bell?
Saul: Okay, what exactly does "knows about" mean? Does he have it? Has he searched it?
Walter: No, he knows it exists and he's trying to find it. He has linked it to Jesse and it's only a matter of time before he tracks it down, so...
Saul: So get rid of it! What are you sitting there talking to me? Better yet, have Pinkman get rid of it. You don't go near it.
Walter: No, listen, my brother-in-law, he is surveying Jesse's house, do you understand? So he might have tapped his phones or bugged his house.
Saul: Jesus. Plan A, then! Go, get to it before the feds do.
Walter: And do what exactly? I mean, what...the thing–the thing is the size of a–of a...It's RV size! I mean, where do I go to make an RV disappear? I'm not David Copperfield!
Saul: What do I look like – the RV disposal people? Did you not plan for this contingency?
Walter: No.
Saul: Well, next time plan for it, would ya? The Starship Enterprise had a self-destruct button. I'm just saying.
Walter: Okay, aw, shut up.
Walter: [whispering to Jesse what to say to Hank] Private domicile and I won't be harassed.
Hank: Yeah? Tell you what, Pinkman. Probable cause or no, I'll give you three seconds to get your ass out here! One, two...
Jesse: This is my own private domicile and I will not be harassed... [silence] ...bitch!
[Walter shrugs in frustration and shakes his head]
[Gus tries to persuade the Cousins to put a hold on their plans to kill Walter. The dialogue is in Spanish.]
Gus: I told you before. You will not kill Walter White. Not until my business with him is concluded.
Marco: We've waited long enough. We won't wait any longer.
Gus: You'll have to. The decision is not yours to make. Explain to me...why this man White? He betrayed your cousin Tuco, yes. But he's not the one who murdered him. Was there not another man who pulled the trigger?
Marco: A DEA agent. Bolsa says the DEA is off-limits.
Gus: North of the border is my territory. My say. As a show of respect...I say yes. The agent's name is Hank Schrader. May his death satisfy you.

One Minute [3.07]

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[Jesse is hospitalised after Hank's assault on him]
Walter: So what happens now?
Jesse: What happens now? I'll tell you what happens now: Your scumbag brother-in-law is finished. Done. You understand? I will own him when this is over. Every cent he earns, every cent his wife earns, is mine. Any place he goes, anywhere he turns, I'm gonna be there grabbing my share. He'll be scrubbing toilets in Tijuana for pennies and I'll be standing over him to get my cut. He'll see me when he wakes up in the morning and when he crawls to sleep in whatever rat hole is left for him after I shred his house down. I will haunt his crusty ass forever until the day he sticks a gun up his mouth and pulls the trigger just to get me out of his head. That's what happens next.
[Hank is being investigated for beating up Jesse]
Hank Schrader: ...I was convinced that Mr. Pinkman was involved in the manufacture and distribution of phenyl-2 methamphetamine, specifically what we're calling the blue meth. I tracked him to a scrapyard where he stored an early-'80s camper, an RV. While waiting for a warrant to search this vehicle, which I believe to be a rolling meth lab, I received a telephone call telling me my wife Marie had been injured in an accident. Upon hearing the news, I left Mr. Pinkman and his vehicle to tend to my wife. After arriving at the hospital, I learned the emergency call was a hoax. My wife, fortunately, was unharmed. [clears throat] So I immediately went back to the salvage yard, but the RV was gone, most likely destroyed on site.
Detective #1: And it was at this point you drove to the home of Jesse Pinkman? [Hank's lawyer whispers something to him]
Hank's Lawyer: I think we're done here. Agent Schrader needs to get home to get some rest.
Detective #1: That's fine. But just to confirm, you're taking the Fifth here?
Hank Schrader: Yeah, that's correct.
Detective #2: Okay. Well, we just wanna give you all a heads up. Mr. Pinkman is pressing charges in this matter. He's given a detailed version of events as he sees them.
Hank's Lawyer: The word of a methhead.
Detective #1: We know all about his history. We're well aware, but toxicology on Pinkman...his blood is clean, he's not using.
Detective #2: The kid is even refusing his doctor-ordered pain meds, as far as we can tell.
Hank Schrader: So, um, where do we go from here?
George Merkert: A couple of gentlemen from OPR will come down, probably tomorrow morning. Janice will give us an exact time on that. [To the AQPD detectives] And you men will be continuing your investigation, so, thanks for your time. [They all stand up]
Detective #1: Right. We just need one more thing: A photo of Agent Schrader's hands. For the record.
Hank Schrader: Yes, of course. [He looks at his right wrist]
Detective #1: Bandage off, if you would. [Hanks takes off the bandage]
Detective #2: On the table is fine. Flat on the table. That's fine. [Hank puts his right hand on the table and the detective takes a picture of the bruises on the right hand]
[The Cousins pull up to a semi truck parked in a deserted parking lot to meet with an arms dealer]
Arms Dealer: So, you the gentlemen?
[The Cousins say nothing. The arms dealer opens the back doors to the trailer]
Arms Dealer: Lucky you boys caught me. I've got a load to pick up, I'm taking the 40 straight through to Memphis! I can hammer it out in about 15, but there's this girl down here named Laney or Lolly or somethin'. Maybe Fran. Anyhow, she's got one of these fetish things, she likes to get peed on, y'know, so I was hoping to see her tonight, but she's real strict 'bout wanting to get to sleep before 10, so I wanna wrap it up here ASAP because traffic can be a wild card, y'know, rubberneckin' and such.
[He starts taking off the tarps covering the crates containing his weapons]
Arms Dealer: Surprising thing is the women who like to get peed on always tend to be from the warmer climates. You'd think the ones in the colder zones would be more inclined but I haven't met one yet. I mean, it's a shock to the system if the body is not properly acclimated, but y'know... leave that for smarter minds than me. Science is a mystery.
[He looks up at the Cousins]
Arms Dealer: Well, take a gander. Prices are negotiable. Buying in bulk gets you a discount. I'm running a special on these honeys.
[The dealer walks over to a crate that contains boxes of bullets, and picks one up]
Arms Dealer: JHPs. Hollow-point bullets, known by the natives as "Black Death". Check it out. [tosses it to Marco] You like that? It's so sweet, you'll wanna lick it! Nickel-plated brass casing, Lubalox coat for panache. Sucker has six razor claws that expand upon impact! PEW! Shred your mama's head like a cabbage. [Marco considers then starts to hand it back to the dealer] Keep it. On the house. [Marco puts the Black Death bullet in his pocket] Anyhow, I've been windjamming long enough. Why don't you boys tell me what you're looking for. What it is you want, what is it you need? What can I do you for?
Leonel Salamanca: Vests.
Arms Dealer: Vests? Hell yeah, we've got vests! Right here. [He grabs two bulletproof vests from a satchel] Sleek, comfortable, thermally bonded, non-interwoven Kevlar fiber. Stop a bullet like a soft wanger against a Quaker girl! It just ain't getting through. And lightweight? Damn, so lightweight, you'll forget you're wearing it! [He tosses the vests, which hit the floor in front of the Cousins]
Marco Salamanca: They work?
Arms Dealer: Sure as shit, they do! [He unbuttons the top button on his shirt to reveal that he's wearing an identical bulletproof vest] I don't leave home without it!
[Leonel promptly pulls out his pistol and shoots the arms dealer in the exposed section of the vest. The arms dealer is knocked to the ground by the impact of the bullet]
Arms Dealer: Ugh! Ow! What the hell?! You... broke my freaking rib, you maniac son of a bitch!
[As the arms dealer groans in pain, Marco steps forward and looks at the spot where Leonel's bullet hit the vest. He pulls out the bullet and shows it to Leonel, who nods in approval. Marco reaches into his pocket and counts out a stack of $100 bills, which he drops in the dealer's lap. Leonel and Marco then pick up the vests and slowly walk out of the truck]
Arms Dealer: You're welcome!
Marie: You made one mistake.
Hank: It wasn't one mistake. I've been... unraveling, y'know? I don't sleep at night anymore. I freeze, I freeze up. My chest gets all tight, I can't breathe. Just...I panic. Ever since that Salamanca thing. Tuco Salamanca, if ever a scumbag deserved a bullet between the eyes... It changed me and I can't seem to control it. I try to fight it, but then El Paso. It just got worse. What I did to Pinkman...that's not who I'm supposed to be. All this, everything that's happened, I swear to God, Marie, I think the universe is trying to tell me something and I'm finally ready to listen. I'm just not the man I thought I was. I think I'm done as a cop.
Walter: Listen, something's come up. I think it's a good opportunity. There's been a job opening. I need a new lab assistant.
Jesse: I did... my time. Why don't you just get yourself a monkey?
Walter: I don't want a monkey. I want you.
Jesse: Oh, gee, thanks. Well, not interested. I got my own thing going on. And nice try saving your asshat brother-in-law.
Walter: That's not why I'm here, Jesse. There's more. It's more than an assistant. Partners. We'd be partners again. Split everything, 50/50, just like before. 1.5 million dollars. Each.
Jesse: No.
Walter: I don't think you heard me.
Jesse: I heard you fine. I said no.
Walter: You understand this: you are turning down one and a half million dollars.
Jesse: I am not turning down the money! I'm turning down you! You get it?! I want nothing to do with you! Ever since I met you, everything I ever cared about is gone! Ruined, turned to shit, dead, ever since I hooked up with "the great Heisenberg"! I have never been more alone! I have NOTHING! NO ONE! ALRIGHT? IT'S ALL GONE, GET IT? No, no, no, why...why would you get it? What do you even care, as long as you get what you want, right? You don't give a shit about me! You said I was no good. I'm nothing! Why would you want me, huh? You said my meth is inferior, right? Right? Hey! You said my cook was GARBAGE! Hey, screw you, man! Screw you!
Walter: Your meth is good, Jesse. As good as mine.

I See You [3.08]

edit
[Jesse gets his first look at Gus's superlab]
Jesse: [to Walter] What's up, partner?! Oh, I can't believe it!
Gale: That's my replacement?
Jesse: Oh, Jesus!
Gale: Hi, I'm Gale. Nice to meet you.
Jesse: 'Sup? [to Walter] Man, we should have ditched that RV months ago. It's all, like, shiny up in here.
Jesse: Hey, tell your douchebag brother-in-law to head towards the light.
Walter: Let me ask you something, do you remember when we were out in the desert with Tuco?
Jesse: Oh, you mean when he put a machine gun to my head. Yeah, I think that does ring a tiny bell.
Walter Junior: [discussing a book with Walt] (Hank) said that good guys never get ink like the bad guys do.
[Walt confronts Gus in the hospital lobby]
Walter: You knew. You knew my brother-in-law was with the DEA.
Gus: I investigate everyone with whom I do business. What careful man wouldn't?
Walter: He is not a problem for us or our business, but your being here...is this some sort of message?
Gus: I'm supporting my community. I hide in plain sight, same as you. Are we done?
Walter: No, listen, I, uh...this attack on my brother-in-law, I don't understand it, I don't know what it means. Please, if you may have some knowledge that you can share with me. I fear for my family.
Gus: I'm sure they'll be fine. I am told the assassin that survived is gravely injured. It's doubtful he'll live. Now thank me and shake my hand.
[Gus is working the late shift at Los Pollos Hermanos when he gets a phone call from Juan Bolsa]
Gus: Yes, Juan?
Juan: I assume you heard the news.
Gus: Your man died. I heard. It's unfortunate.
Juan: Yeah, unfortunate. And meanwhile I have federales surrounding my house. You know what I think, Gustavo? I think you're behind all this.
Gus: Why would I do this? How would it serve me?
Juan: That's the part that I'm trying to figure out. Go off on your own, maybe? You actually think that would work?
Gus: Juan, you sound like you're under a lot of stress. Maybe you should call me back when you're seeing things more clearly.
Juan: I see things clear enough. One DEA gets shot, all of Washington starts barking. The DF suddenly has to put on a big show and I wind up with federales in my rose bushes. And just for a while, appearances, politics... Are you still there, Gustavo?
Gus: Yes, I'm here.
Juan: I'll weather this. I always do. My brother is a police chief. I got connections. They'll get me through. And when I get proof and the others find out what you've done, maybe we come pay you a visit. Maybe–
[Glass shatters. Juan and his men begin shouting and run to the source of the noise but they are gunned down on sight. Gus listens eagerly, smiles, breaks apart his phone and throws it away]

Kafkaesque [3.09]

edit
Jesse: [Vaguely describing his work in Gustavo's secret meth lab to his rehab group] Been working a lot...It's in a laundromat, it's totally corporate...It's like rigid, all kinds of red tape, my boss is a dick, the owner, super dick, don't know if we're ever going to meet him, everybody's scared of the dude. Place is full of dead-eyed douchebags, the hours suck, and nobody knows what's going on.
Walter: My brother-in-law, moments before he was attacked, someone called to warn him. I believe that same person was protecting me. Those two men – the assassins – I believe I was their prime target, but that somehow they were steered away from me to my brother-in-law. Because of this intervention, I am alive, and yet, I think that this person was playing a much deeper game. He made that phone call because he wanted a shootout, not a silent assassination. In one stroke, he bloodied both sides, set the American and Mexican governments against the cartel, and cut off the supply of methamphetamine to the Southwest. If this man had his own source of product on this side of the border, he would have the market to himself. The rewards would be enormous. We're both adults. I can't pretend I don't know that person is you. I want there to be no confusion. I know I owe you my life, and more than that, I respect the strategy. In your position, I would have done the same. One issue which troubles me: I don't know what happens when our three month contract ends.
Gus: What would you like then?
Walter: You know why I do this. I want security for my family.
Gus: Then you have it. Three million for three months, that was our agreement. Extended annually, twelve million a year. Call it fifteen. Open ended. Would that be agreeable?
Saul: Humor me here for a second. Now, you know you need to launder your money, right? Do you understand the basics of it: placement, layering, integration?
Jesse: I ain't buying no damn nail salon, so just forget it.
Saul: You want to stay out of jail, don't ya? I mean, you want to keep your money and your freedom. 'Cause I got three little letters for ya, IRS; if they can get Capone, they can get you. Hey, look. [picks up a nail polish bottle] Here's you, right? Pink - Pinkman, get it? [picks up cotton balls] Here's your cash. You're out on the town, yeah? You're partying hardy, you're knockin' boots with the chicky babes and oh, who's this? [picks up paddle] It's the taxman, and he's looking at you. Now, what does he see? He sees a young fella with a big fancy house, unlimited cash supply and no job. Now what is the conclusion the taxman makes?
Jesse: I'm a drug dealer.
Saul: [buzzer sound] Wrong! Million times worse - you're a tax cheat! What do they do? They take every penny, and you go in the can [tosses nail polish into the trash] for felony tax evasion. Ouch! What was your mistake? You didn't launder your moneeey! Now, you give me your money, okay? That's called placement. Hand me that little thing- bin. [Jesse grabs a jar of Q-Tips and hands it to Saul] This is the nail salon, right? I take your dirty money... [opens the jar and puts the cotton balls in] ...and I slip it into the salon's nice, clean cash flow. That's called layering. Final step: integration. The revenues from the salon go to the owner - that's you! [empties the jar onto the armrest] Your filthy drug money has been transformed into nice, clean, taxable income, brought to you by a savvy investment in a thriving business.
Jesse: So you want me to buy this place so I can pay taxes? I'm a criminal, yo.
Saul: Yeah, and if you want to stay a criminal and not become, say, a convict, then maybe you should grow up and listen to your lawyer.
Jesse: Right. So you can get your five percent.
Saul: No, that's seventeen percent.
Jesse: I heard you say five! You said it right in front of me.
Saul: Yeah, that was for your partner. It's- privileges of seniority and all. But for you, it's the usual: seventeen percent, and that's a bargain.
Jesse: What's the point of being an outlaw when you got responsibilities?
Badger: Darth Vader had responsibilities. He was responsible for the Death Star.
Skinny Pete: True that. Two of them bitches.
[Skyler has concocted an elaborate lie involving gambling addiction to convince Marie to let her and Walt pay for Hank's medical expenses.]
Walter: How did you come up with that? I mean, where did you possibly...?
Skyler: I learned from the best. Somehow, something tells me Hank is here because of you. And I'm not forgetting that.

Fly [3.10]

edit
Walter: There's been a contamination.
Jesse: Wait, what? Whoa, hey, hold up!
Walter: Something got into the lab.
Jesse: So, uh, what do we do? I mean, do we...wait, wait! Shouldn't we be wearing masks?
Walter: No, no, it's not that kind of contaminant.
Jesse: So it's, like, not dangerous? Mr. White, talk to me here!
Walter: Not to us, particularly, no.
Jesse: [noticing Walter's homemade fly swatter] What the hell is that?
Walter: This is, uh, I made it.
Jesse: Exactly what kind of contaminant are we dealing with here?
Walter: ...Fly.
Jesse: What do you mean? Fly, like...like what do you mean?
Walter: I mean, a fly. A housefly.
Jesse: Like, uh, one fly? Singular? What'd it do?
Walter: It got into the lab and I'm trying to get it out, okay? Understand?
Jesse: No, man, not really. I can't say that I'm really following you here. Dude, you scared the shit out of me! When you say it's contamination, I'm thinking like an Ebola leak or something.
Walter: [scoffs] Ebola!?
Jesse: Yeah, it's a disease on the Discovery Channel where all your intestines sort of just slip right out of your butt!
Walter: Thank you, I know what Ebola is.
Jesse: Uh-huh.
Walter: Now tell me, what would a West African virus be doing in our lab, hm?
Jesse: So you're chasing around a fly, and in your world, I'm the idiot?
Walter: Jesse, listen. This fly, or any other fly, for that matter, cannot be in our lab. [overlooks Jesse from under his glasses] Do you understand, Jesse? It's a problem. It's a contamination, and that is in no way a misuse of the word, "contamination."
Walter: Okay, look, we're running late, so let's just get started. The sooner we do it, the sooner we're done.
Jesse: Fricking finally. [Jesse grabs a sack and just as he's about to put in the tank, Walt stops him]
Walter: What are you doing?
Jesse: It's time to alkaline.
Walter: Have you not heard a word I said? No cooking until this fly is dealt with. Have I been speaking to myself?
Jesse: The timer went off, yo! How long is this batch gonna be good for? An hour? Two?
Walter: The batch will be good for nothing if we don't clear the contaminant.
Jesse: "Clear the contaminant?!" We're making meth here, alright? Not space shuttles!
Walter: We're making nothing until we catch this fly.
Jesse: What fly? Alright? Where the hell is this fly? Not like I even seen this thing! Maybe your positive pressure blew it out the door or something.
Walter: No, no. It is here. It is around, okay? He's around, and I'm not going to expose this batch to the open air and contamination, period. Now, you can leave to deal with this myself or you can help me. But you're right, we're running out of time. So I need you to answer right now. [Jesse drops the sack and walks off] Okay.
Jesse: Did you know that there's an acceptable level of rat turds that can go into candy bars? It's the government, jack. Even government doesn't care that much about quality. You know what is okay to put in hot dogs? Huh? Pig lips and assholes. But I say, "Hey, have at it bitches," 'cause I love hot dogs.
Walter: I've been to my oncologist, Jesse. Just last week. I'm still in remission. I'm healthy.
Jesse: That's good. Great.
Walter: No end in sight.
Jesse: That's great.
Walter: No. I missed it. There was some perfect moment that passed me right by, but I had to have enough to leave them. That was the whole point. None of this makes any sense if I didn't have enough. And it had to be before she found out. Skyler. It had to be before that.
Jesse: Perfect moment? For what? To drop dead? Are you saying you want to die?
Walter: I'm saying that I lived too long. You want them to actually miss you. You want their memories of you to be...but she just won't...she just won't understand. I mean, no matter how well I explain it, these days she just has this...this... I mean, I truly believe there exists some combination of words. There must exist certain words in a certain specific order that can explain all of this, but with her I just can't ever seem to find them.
Jesse: Mr. White, why don't you just sit down.
Walter: You know, I was thinking before the fugue state, but during the fugue state I didn't have enough money, so no, not then. And plus my daughter wasn't born yet. It had to be after Holly was born.
Jesse: Mr. White...
Walter: Definitely before the surgery. Ah Christ, that damn second cell phone. I mean, how could I possibly? [pause] Oh, I know the moment. It was the night Jane died. I was at home and we needed diapers and so I said I'd go, but it was just an excuse. Actually that was the night I brought you your money, remember?
Jesse: Yeah. I remember.
Walter: And afterward I stopped at a bar. It was odd, I never do that – go to a bar alone. I just walked in, sat down. I never told you.
Jesse: You went to a bar?
Walter: I sit down and this man, this stranger, he engages me in conversation. He's a complete stranger. But he turns out to be Jane's father, Donald Margolis.
Jesse: What are you talking about?
Walter: Of course I didn't know it at the time. I mean, he's just some guy in a bar. I just didn't put it together until after the crash when he was all over the news.
Jesse: Jane's dad?
Walter: Think of the odds. Once I tried to calculate them, but they're astronomical. I mean, think of the odds of me going in and sitting down that night, in that bar, next to that man.
Jesse: What'd you talk about?
Walter: Water on Mars. Family.
Jesse: What about family?
Walter: I told him that I had a daughter and he told me he had one, too. And he said, "Never give up on family." And I didn't. I took his advice. My God, the universe is random; it's not inevitable, it's simple chaos. It's subatomic particles and endless pings, collision – that's what science teaches us. What does this say? What is it telling us that the very night that this man's daughter dies, it's me who is having a drink with him? I mean, how could that be random?
[Walter stumbles, starting to succumb to the sleeping pills]
Jesse: Hey, sit down.
Walter: No, no, it's, uh... Oh, that was the moment. That night. I should never have left home. Never gone to your house. Maybe things would have... Oh, I was...I was at home watching TV. Some nature program about elephants...and Skyler and Holly were in another room. I can hear them on the baby monitor. She was singing a lullaby. Oh, if I had just lived right up to that moment...and not one second more...That would have been perfect.
Walter: Jesse. Come here. I couldn't chance saying it inside, for all I know the lab's wired for sound. That half a pound that I said we were off by? Now I'm not accusing you, but if – you understand – if they ever found out...
Jesse: I didn't take shit.
Walter: I'm just saying that I won't be able to protect you.
Jesse: Who's asking you to?

Abiquiu [3.11]

edit
Marie: You can do this, Hank. Come on. It's supposed to hurt. Pain is weakness leaving your body.
Hank: Pain is my foot in your ass, Marie.
Marie: Hey, if you could get your leg up that high, I say go for it.
Jesse: Alright, just wanted to give you a heads up, it's gonna get a little slower smuggling product with Grandpa Anus watching every move I make. Don't worry, I'll keep it flowing.
Skinny Pete: Right on.
Badger: Yeah.
Jesse: So how's it selling? Mad volume?
Badger: Yeah, it's, uh...y'know, it's, uh...it's not so good.
Jesse: What do you mean? How much have you sold?
Badger: I sold a teenth.
Jesse: One teenth? That's it? To who?
Badger: [motions to Skinny Pete] To him.
Saul: Hello. Welcome. What a pleasure it is to have you. Just gonna call you Skyler if that's okay. It's a lovely name. It reminds me of the big, beautiful sky. Walter always told me how lucky he was, prior to recent unfortunate events. Clearly his taste in women is the same as his taste in lawyers: only the very best with just the right amount of dirty.
[Walter and Saul are in the parking lot of Bogdan's car wash while they discuss their plan to buy it as part of Skyler's money laundering scheme]
Saul: How come you guys always give away the air freshener, huh? I explicitly say I want no air freshener, and every time I drive away smelling like an alpine whorehouse. All due respect, I don't see...I–I vote no.
Walter: It makes a better story than your laser tag.
Saul: [referring to Skyler] Is that you talking or Yoko Ono?
Walter: She has a point. It makes more sense that I invest right here.
Saul: Based on her years of experience in money laundering, I suppose. Let me tell you something. If you're committed enough, you can make any story work. I once convinced a woman that I was Kevin Costner, and it worked because I believed it. Alright, it has nothing to do with the story. Besides, this dump isn't gonna work because it doesn't have a Danny. There's no Danny here.
Walter: What in God's name is a Danny?
Saul: Danny runs the laser tag. Danny is the guy who had a vision. Where others saw a dirt lot, he saw...black lights, rubber aliens, teenagers running around with ray guns. Right? It was like Bugsy Siegel in the desert. And when the stock market took a shit, and Danny got into trouble, he went searching for exactly the type of situation that we're offering. Danny will look the other way to keep his dream afloat. In other words, Danny can be trusted completely! [points at Bogdan] That guy–the guy with the eyebrows that won't quit–is he a Danny? You buy this place, all you got is a big building that squirts water. You got no Danny here.
Gus: Walter, I would like to help you if I could.
Walter: Help me how?
Gus: Well, when I first started out, I made a lot of mistakes. More than I care to admit. I wish I had someone to advise me, because this life of ours, it can overwhelm. You are a wealthy man now, and one must learn to be rich. To be poor, anyone can manage.
Walter: What advice do you have for me?
Gus: Never make the same mistake twice.

Half Measures [3.12]

edit
[Walt and Jesse discuss the situation about Combo's killers at a bar]
Jesse: Combo was us, man. He was one of us. Does that mean nothing?
Walter: Why didn't you go after these guys two or three months ago?
Jesse: 'Cause I just found out about them.
Walter: What's to find out? It's a dispute over turf, right? I mean, how hard could it have been for you to track them down on their turf and kill them months ago? Because back then you were too busy getting high, feeling sorry. Murder is not part of your twelve-step program. This is not some amends that you have to make. What you are talking about here is pointless. This achieves nothing. It accomplishes nothing.
Jesse: If you don't see what it accomplishes, there is no way I can explain it you.
Walter: Jesse, listen to me: you are not a murderer. I am not and you are not. It's as simple as that. [Jesse gets up to leave] Jesse...
Jesse: I'm doing it...with or without you.
Skyler: Really? That, in your mind, is plausible deniability? I'll tell you what, Walt. I'd rather have them think I'm Bonnie what's-her-name than some complete idiot.
Walter: So you're promoting caution here.
Skyler: [sighs] And you want a believable story.
Skyler: That, it seems to me, is the safest way to make the best out of a very bad situation, yes.
Walter: Ah.
Skyler: But I'm noting a little hole in your plot, though.
Walter: Why would your estranged husband be doing all this for you? Because he loves his family and desperately wants a reconciliation, though it may be hopeless and futile.
Skyler: Then again, he'd try anything.
Walter: I'm just not buying it.
Skyler: No, I think it would be better if the husband were no longer estranged.
Walter: Mmm.
Skyler: You know, maybe if he were back sleeping in his own bed.
[Walt talks with Saul about options to keep Jesse from killing the dealers who killed Combo]
Walter: Maybe...What if we, uh...maybe...could you get him arrested?
Saul: You want your criminal associate taken into police custody?
Walter: No, listen, I know it sounds risky, but it wouldn't be anything that would get him into real trouble, nothing that could lead back to our business. Just some minor offense.
Saul: Pinkman in jail. I dunno, I'm picturing it...
Walter: Not jail, as in jail jail. I'm talking about one of those situations when you're in an orange jumpsuit picking up litter along the highway.
Saul: That's jail.
[Walt is tending to Holly when he gets a late night visit from Mike]
Walter: What can I do for you?
Mike: Have a seat, Walter. I spoke to Goodman about Pinkman and this plan of yours.
Walter: And?
Mike: I'm not gonna do it.
Walter: Why?
Mike: Because it's moronic.
Walter: Saul said you've done things like this before.
Mike: That's not the moronic part.
Walter: OK, so what's the problem?
Mike: The problem is the boss wouldn't like it.
Walter: Saul?
Mike: My boss. Your boss. This is a professional courtesy. No one knows I'm here, understand? But our employer would find out like always, and if Pinkman were arrested, he'd take it as a problem. Walt, you got a good thing going here. We all do. You want to risk it all on one junkie? Now I realize you two have a history, but this kid's been on the bubble a while now. It's a long time coming.
Walter: What is?
Mike: [Chuckles] Um... I used to be a beat cop, long time ago. And I'd get called out on domestic disputes all the time, hundreds probably over the years. But there was this one guy, this one piece of shit, that I will never forget: Gordy. He looked like Bo Svenson. You remember him? Walking Tall? You don't remember?
Walter: No.
Mike: Anyway. Big boy; 270, 280. But his wife, or whatever she was, his lady, was real small. Like a bird, wrists like little branches. Anyway, my partner and I get called out there every weekend and one of us would pull her aside and say, "C'mon, tonight's the night we press charges." And this wasn't one of those 'deep down he really loves me' setups, we got a lot of those, but not this. This girl was scared. She wasn't gonna cross him no way, no how. Nothing we could do but pass her off to the EMTs, put him in the car, drive him downtown, throw him in the drunk tank. He sleeps it off, next morning out he goes, back home. But one night, my partner's out sick and it's just me. And the call comes in and it's the usual crap. Broke her nose in the shower kind of thing. So I cuff him, put him in the car and away we go. Only that night, we're driving into town, and this sideways asshole is in my backseat humming 'Danny Boy'. And it just rubbed me wrong. So instead of left, I go right, out into nowhere. And I kneel him down and I put my revolver in his mouth and I told him, "This is it. This is how it ends." And he's crying, going to the bathroom all over himself, swearing to God he's gonna leave her alone, screaming – much as you can with a gun in your mouth. And I told him to be quiet, that I needed to think about what I was gonna do here. And of course he got quiet. Goes still, and real quiet, like a dog waiting for dinner scraps. And we just stood there for a while: me acting like I'm thinking things over, and Prince Charming kneeling in the dirt with shit in his pants. After a few minutes I took the gun out of his mouth and I say; "So help me if you ever touch her again I will such and such and such and such and blah blah blah blah blah".
Walter: Just... just a warning?
Mike: Hmph. Of course. Just trying to do the right thing. But two weeks later he killed her. Of course. Caved her head in with the base of a Waring blender. We got there, there was so much blood you could taste the metal. The moral of the story is, I chose a half measure when I should have gone all the way. I'll never make that mistake again. [stands up] No more half measures, Walter.
[Gus has summoned Walt, Jesse, and the rival dealers to a meeting at the Los Pollos Hermanos distribution center]
Gus: Sit down. I understand that you have a problem with two of my employees. It is true that they killed one of your associates. It is possible they acted rashly, but on the other hand there was a provocation. The man was selling on their territory. There is blame on both sides. This will go no further. It will be settled right here, right now.
Jesse: [to Walter] You told him?
Gus: [to the two dealers] Wait outside. [the two dealers leave and Gus turns to Jesse] Listen to me. You have one friend in this room. [points to Walter] This man. Those men outside are my trusted employees, and when I learned what you intended to do... If it wasn't for this man and the respect I have for him, I would be dealing with this in a very different way. Don't look at him, you look at me. This is what happens now: My men will come back inside and you will shake their hands and you will make peace and that will be the end of this.
Jesse No.
Walter: Jesse... [Gus motions for Walter to be quiet]
Gus: Pardon me?
Jesse: They use kids. These assholes of yours, they got an 11-year old kid doing their killing for them. You're supposed to be some kind of reasonable business man, this is how you do business? [to Walter] You okay with this? You got anything to say here?!
Gus: Bring them back. [the two dealers come back inside] No more children. You understand? [to Jesse] And you, you keep the peace. [Jesse nods] Say it.
Jesse: Yeah. I keep the peace.
Gus: Shake hands.
[Jesse and the two dealers shake hands]

Full Measure [3.13]

edit
[Walt is out in the desert when a car pulls up. Walt's cell phone rings]
Walter: [answers phone] Yeah?
Mike: Walter, you see us?
Walter: Yeah, I see you.
Mike: I'd like you to exit your vehicle and start walking toward us.
Walter: And then what? I'm gonna need some...some kind of assurance.
Mike: I assure you I could kill you from way over here if it makes you feel any better.
[Walt walks over to the car that has shown up. Mike gets out and approaches Walt]
Mike: Walter. You’ve been busy. You wanna put your arms out to your sides for me, if you would. [Walt does as he’s told, standing as Mike gives him a pat-down]
Mike: You know I haven’t slept since Thursday? I was out all night cleaning up after you. I need my sleep.
Walter: You said no half measures.
Mike: Yeah? about that, it's funny how words can be so open to interpretation, tsk. [The two of them walk towards the car] You get your car fixed?
Walter: Not yet.
Mike: You’re gonna wanna get your car fixed.
Walter: Let’s see how this goes first.
[Gus and Victor emerge from the Suburban]
Gus: Has your condition worsened?
Walter: Excuse me?
Gus: Your medical condition, has it grown worse?
Walter: Not that I know of, no.
Gus: Is there a ringing in your ears? Are you seeing bright lights or hearing voices?
Walter: I'm quite well, thank you.
Gus: No. Clearly you are not. No rational person would do as you have done. Explain yourself.
Walter: My partner was about to get himself shot. I intervened.
Gus: Some worthless junkie. For him, you intervened and put us all at risk? Some contemptible junkie who couldn't keep the peace for eight hours?
Walter: That's right, he couldn't. He was angry because those two dealers of yours had just murdered an 11-year old boy.
Gus: I heard about it. He should have let me take care of it.
Walter: Maybe. Then again maybe he thought it was you who gave the order.
Gus: [acting offended] Are you asking me if I ordered the murder of a child?
Walter: I would never ask you that.
Gus: Where is Pinkman now?
Walter: I wouldn't know. Couple of time zones away at least. Beyond that I'd only be guessing. He has enough money to last forever. He knows he has to keep moving. You'll never find him.
Mike: I don't know, Walt. It's what I do after all.
Walter: He's out of the picture. I saved his life, I owed him that, but now he and I are done, which is exactly what you wanted, isn't it? You've always struck me as a very pragmatic man, so if I may, I would like to review options with you, of which, it seems to me, you have two. Option A: you kill me right here and now. Apparently I have made that very easy for you. You can kill me, no witnesses, and then spend the next few weeks or months tracking down Jesse Pinkman and you kill him, too. A pointless exercise, it seems to me, but that is option A.
Gus: What is option B?
Walter: I continue cooking. You and I both forget about Pinkman. We forget this ever happened. We consider this a lone hiccup in an otherwise long and fruitful business arrangement. I prefer option B.
Gus: You’d need a new assistant. [Walt nods]
Walter: I could get right on that.
Gus: No. This time, I choose.
[Mike is trying to get Jesse's location from Saul]
Mike: Now when I say I'm looking for Pinkman, we both know why, don't we? And you pretending otherwise only wastes my time and serves to annoy me.
Saul: Look, Mike, there are rules to this lawyer thing.
Mike: Is that right?
Saul: Yeah! Attorney-client privilege. I mean, that's a big one. That's something I provide for you. I give up Pinkman, well, then you're gonna be asking, "Ol' Saul gives 'em up pretty easy. What's to keep him from giving me up?" Y'see, so, then where's the trust?
Mike: I trust the hole in the desert I'd leave you in.
Saul: Yeah, that's...an argument.
Mike: Saul, don't make me beat you until your legs don't work. Now tell me where to find him. You know it's the right thing.
[Walt secretly meets with Jesse in the laser tag arena]
Walter: How you holding up?
Jesse: Mm...You?
Walter: I got my old job back. At least until they kill me and Gale takes over.
Jesse: So he's their boy, huh?
Walter: He's their boy.
Jesse: How long you think you got?
Walter: Well, he asks a lot of questions about the cooking process. I try to be as vague as possible but I got that guy Victor watching me, listening to every word I say. Maybe the only thing saving me is Gale's fastidiousness. Once he feels confident that he knows my entire method...
Jesse: So what do we do?
Walter: You know what we do.
Jesse: There's got to be some other way. Maybe it's better for you to just go the cops, alright? I mean, I can't believe I'm saying that and all, but for your family. Hey, the DEA would love you, the shit you tell them. Federal Witness Protection, that's a good deal. As for me, I'll hit the road, yo. I'll make it. We had a good run...but it's over.
Walter: Never the DEA. The cooking can't stop. That's the one thing I'm certain of – production cannot stop. Gus can't afford to. So if I'm the only chemist that he's got, then I got leverage and leverage keeps me alive, and it keeps you alive, too. I think I can see to that. If I'm the only chemist that he's got...
Jesse: I can't do it, Mr. White. Like you said, I'm not a...I can't do it.
Walter: I'll do it. I'm gonna need your help. I mean, they're watching me day and night. They never leave me alone with Gale, not for a moment. Hell, I don't even know where the man lives. He's not in the phonebook, I can't find him on the Internet, I can't do it in the lab – Victor's always there. I mean, if I can just shake Victor, even an hour one night, I think then that...I may be able to...make it look like an accident.
Jesse: There's got to be some other way.
Walter: I'm all ears, but when it comes down to you and me versus him, I'm sorry – I'm truly sorry – but it's gonna be him.
Walter: Please don't do this. Mike, you don't have to do this.
Mike: Yeah, unfortunately I do, Walter. Downstairs.
Walter: I'll cook. I'll cook for free, and there won't be anymore trouble, I promise you...
Mike: No.
Walter: ...OK, if I could just talk to Gus...
Mike: No.
Walter: ...I know I could make him understand...
Mike: No. Walter...
Walter: ...Please if I could talk to Gus, I could convince him, OK? Just let me please, please, PLEASE let me talk to him!
Mike: SHUT UP! Shut up. I can't do it. I'm sorry.
Walter: Look, I'll give you Jesse Pinkman, OK? Like you said, he's the problem, he's always been the problem and without him, we would...and he's in town, alright? He's not in Virginia or wherever the hell you're looking for him. He's right here in Albuquerque and I can take you to him, I'll take you right to him. What do you say?
Mike: Where is he? Right now you give me an address.
Walter: I don't know, he moves around, but if you let me call him. [Walter reaches for his phone. Victor reaches for his gun] No, no, please! No, it's just my phone. It's just my phone. I'll call him and I'll have him meet me, OK? OK?
[Walter dials Jesse as Mike listens in closely]
Jesse: Did you do it? Mr. White? Did you do it?
Walter: No, I didn't do it. I can't now. It's gonna have to be you.
Jesse: What? No way, man!
Walter: Listen to me. You're closer than we are. You have about a 20 minute lead. They got me at the laundry and they're going to kill me... [Mike and Victor attempt to grab the phone away] Jesse, do it now! Do it! Do it fast! Do it, Jesse! Do it! [Jesse grabs a gun and runs outside. Mike grabs the phone away from Walter]
Victor: Son of a bitch!
[Mike and Victor point their guns at Walter]
Mike: Just what the hell was that exactly?
Walter: You might want to hold off.
Mike: Yeah? [cocks gun] Why?
Walter: Because your boss is gonna need me. 6353 Juan Tabo, apartment 6. [Gale's address.]
[Mike and Victor look at each other, shocked]
Walter: Yeah.
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