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Breaking Bad (season 1)

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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 entities, 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.

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 bull-winder about getting right with Jesus by turning myself in...
Walter: Not really.
Jesse: High school was a long time ago, okay? 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, uh...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 withdraws his life savings and takes them to Jesse's car]
Jesse: Dude, this isn't even seven grand, alright? My guy wants eighty-five.
Walter: This is all the money I have in the world. You're a drug dealer. Negotiate.
Jesse: [scoffs] Y-you are not how I remember you from class. I mean, like, not at all.
Walter: Yeah, well, I gotta go.
Jesse: Wait, wait, hold up! (leans out the car window) Tell me why you're doing this. Seriously.
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 y- if you've gone crazy or depressed, I'm just saying... th- that's something I need to know about. Okay? I mean, that affects me.
Walter: I am awake.
Jesse: [scoffs] What?
Walter: Buy the RV. We start tomorrow.

Jesse: Yeah, nothing but cows. Got some big cow house way out that way, like, two miles, but... I don't see nobody.
Walter: "Cow house?"
Jesse: Yeah. Where they live. The cows. Yo, whatever man. Shit yeah, let's cook here.
Walter: [mutters] "Cow house." God help me.
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.
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! Fucking do it already!

Hank: You know who lives in the palace? Meth-heads. Nasty, skeevy meth-heads who'd sell their grandma's coochie for a hit. [Walter Jr. chuckles] Oh, you think that's funny? That's funny, huh? Yeah. Let me tell you something. Every one of these miserable wastes of skin got started how? How do you think they started?
Walter Jr.: I don't know.
Hank: What do you think it was they were all doing before they graduated to shooting meth in their dicks? A gateway drug. That's what we call it. Dollars to doughnuts, and I shit you not, that gateway drug was marijuana, every time. You understand?
Walter Jr.: Um... yeah. 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.
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 to...you know, you and I...cooking 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, and...am 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.
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]

Elliot: I miss this, Walt.
Walter: Yeah. Me too. Listen, uh, we- we ought to get together more often. Y'know, Skyler and I would love to have you and Gretchen over for dinner sometime.
Elliot: Oh, sure, yeah, absolutely...but, you know, what I mean is that- that you and I should work together again.
Walter: Heh, what, are you gonna teach high school?
Elliot: No, no, no, no, seriously. W-what's stopping us?
Walter: ...wait a minute. Elliot, what are you- Are you asking me to me to come work for you at Gray Matter?
Elliot: Yeah, why not? You'd fit right in! You're brilliant, you- you got a ton of experience.
Walter: Well, I...I wouldn't really know where to begin. I mean...god, you have no idea. I spend my days just drawing out atoms on the chalkboard and trying to get these kids to learn the periodic table.
Elliot: Look, I-I understand. You're a little rusty, but you're not seeing the upside here. We could really benefit from a- a new set of eyes. You know what it's like when you're trying to crack some problem for months on end, you get tunnel vision. One guy thinking outside of the box, you may be exactly what we need.
[pause]
Walter: Well, listen, Elliot, it...the offer is very appealing, it really is, I thank you, but uh...there's-there's something you should know. I-I have some personal issues.
Elliot: Look, there's nothing we can't work out.
Walter: Well, yeah, but...it's- it's complicated.
Elliot: We can help you. We- we have excellent health insurance. The best.
[Walter grimaces and glances at Skyler]

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 never...you 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. [pause] 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?
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.

[Jesse comes back after selling meth]
Walter: How much meth did you sell?
Jesse: Nearly an ounce.
Walter: Last I checked, there were sixteen ounces to a pound. What did you do with the rest, smoke it?
Jesse: Yo, I've been out there all night slinging crystal! You think it's cake, moving a pound of meth one 'teenth at a time?
Walter: So why are you selling it in such small quantities? Why don't you just sell the whole pound at once?
Jesse: To who? What do I look like, Scarface?
Walter: This... [holds up his small share] is unacceptable. I am breaking the law, here! This return is too little for the risk! I thought you'd be ready for another pound today!
Jesse: You may know a lot about chemistry man, but you don't know jack about slinging dope.
Walter: Well, I'll tell ya–I know a lack of motivation when I see it. [Jesse scoffs] Come on, you–you've gotta be more imaginative, you know, just–just think outside the box here! We have to move our product in 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.
[pause]
Walter: So... who took Krazy-8's place?
Jesse: Some guy named Tuco. Badass, from what I hear.
Walter: Tuco. Okay, so then- just go talk to Tuco.
Jesse: [scoffs] Right. Like, "Hello, sir. Hey, I know you don't know me, but would you be interested in a felony quantity of methamphetamine?"
Walter: Well, yes, but maybe with a little more salesmanship, perhaps?
Jesse: You just don't get it, man! Okay, this guy's OG!
Walter: What–what does that mean?
Jesse: Agh, Jesus– look, he's off our level, man! He's not going to do business with some dude he doesn't know! You just don't understand the way it works; you can't just bum-rush some high-level iceman and start cutting deals, okay? It's risky – you need an intro, you need someone to vouch.
Walter: Well, who introduced you to Krazy-8?
Jesse: Emilio, and that's only because I knew him from, like, third grade, and we can't talk to Emilio either, because–
Walter: Alright, alright, alright...
Jesse: Look, I'm telling you, Mr. White... it's too risky. 'Kay? I mean, we're making money, why can't you just be satisfied with the way it is?
Walter: Oh, come on! Jesus! JUST GROW SOME FUCKIN' BALLS!!

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.
[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, so...so 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.
[Tuco pulls up in his Escalade. Jesse fidgets]
Walter: Look, you don't have to be here for this, okay? I mean, seriously. I'm okay.
Jesse: Nah, I'm no pussy. I'm good.
[Tuco and his henchmen get out]
Tuco: Mr. Clean and his boy. [to Jesse] Now, I'm sorry I had to tune you up. Respect, ese. You gotta give it to get it. [looks around] Hey, what are we doing way the hell out here? What, they close the mall or something? [Jesse glances at Walter] Heisenberg, come on, break it out. [Walter takes out a bag of meth] That's it? That's all you got?
Walter: We had some production problems.
No-Doze: [weighing the meth] Point five three.
Tuco: I thought you was a player. You told me two pounds, and now you waste my time with these chiclets? [tosses Walter his money] Seventeen-and-a-half, minus the half for wasting my time.
Walter: Hey, come on.
Tuco: What?! You gonna argue?! You got something to say?! [pause] You're doing business like a couple little bitches.
Walter: I want all of it. [everyone stares at him] Seventy grand.
Tuco: What did you say?
Walter: You like this product, and you want more. Consider it a capital investment.
Tuco: [gets in Walt's face] Look, old bald motherfucker. Fifty-two and a half, 25 points vig.
Walter: Vig?
[Tuco looks at Jesse]
Jesse: Interest. Weekly.
Walter: ...okay. That's $65,625 with interest. 1.875 pounds.
Tuco: No. Two pounds. Next Friday, and no production problems.
Walter: Can you handle four pounds?
[Tuco and Jesse look at Walter in disbelief]
Tuco: Listen, old man. Talk is talk, but owing me money...that's bad.

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! [slaps table in excitement] Yeah, Mr. White! Yeah, science!

Walter: Hey, everything okay?
Skyler: No, not really. Heh, actually not at all. You know that, uh, tiara that Marie gave us?
Walter: Yeah.
Skyler: Well, she stole it. Yep, I practically got arrested trying to return it at the store.
Walter: Oh my God.
Skyler: I mean, she refuses to admit it. She refuses to apologize- I-I don't know what to do.
Walter: Hm...people sometimes do things for their families.
Skyler: "People sometimes do things for their families"? And, what, that justifies stealing?
Walter: Well...
Skyler: Wow, that must have been some sweat lodge. Are you even listening to the words coming out of your mouth?
Walter: What would you do if it were me?
Skyler: What do you mean, "if it were you"?
Walter: If it were me, what would you do? Would you divorce me, would you turn me in to the police?
Skyler: You don't want to find out.

[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! [he hands the bag of meth to No Doze, and gives Walter a bag of cash]
No-Doze: [weighing the bag of meth] Four point six.
Tuco: [working out the value of the excess in his head] Uh… Come on. [Gonzo gives two more clips of 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.]
[edit]
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