The DEA took all your money, your lab. You've got nothing. Square one. But you know the business, and I know the chemistry. I'm thinking...maybe you and I could partner up.
A volumetric flask is for general mixing and titration. You wouldn't apply heat to a volumetric flask. That's what a boiling flask is for. Did you learn nothing from my chemistry class?
What is his reputation for violence?
I don't suppose you could buy two bins, and, uh... [mimes slicing] ...legs in one, torso in the other?
Because you didn't follow my instructions!
It's a piccolo, actually.
So, what? Are you selling your house?
How was I supposed to know you were chauffeuring Tuco to my doorstep?
I just gave you $600.
I'll fill it in. Just sign your name. Which is what, by the way?
Perhaps I was overly ambitious. In any case, it's not gonna happen that way anymore.
You brought a meth lab to the airport?
Yes, I see your point. Your imbecility being what it is, I should have known to say, “Jesse, don't leave the keys in the ignition the ENTIRE TWO DAYS!”
Prove it. Pee in that. [points to beaker]
You miserable little smackhead! Get the hell out!
There's some sort of collision radar on the jet that may not have been working properly. Now that's public record. You can look that up. And the whole system is run on 1960's technology. No... Now really, I blame the government.
Oh yeah? Well, good luck because my guy is a pro, and he doesn't deal with junkies!
Cook whatever you like, as long as it's that ridiculous Chili P or some other dreck. But don't even think about using my formula.
I'll give you three seconds to get your ass out here. One...two...
Listen, something's come up. I think it's a good opportunity. There's been a job opening. I need a new lab assistant.
Let me understand this. You're turning down one and a half million dollars.
Let me ask you something. Do you remember when we were out in the desert with Tuco?
It STAYS closed! That's an order.
Jesse, listen to me. You are not a murderer. I'm not, and you're not. It's as simple as that...Jesse—
YOU are not the guy! You're not capable of being the guy! I had a guy, but now I don't. YOU are NOT the guy!
The cartel needs Gus...his distribution network. They're not looking to kill him.
Who do you think you are?
Jesse, why...? Why, in God's name, would I poison a child?
This is YOUR problem. It should come out of YOUR end.
The boy HAD seen us, and, no, it didn't look like he knew what he was seeing. But...what if he told somebody? What if he just mentioned it in passing? We can't know what someone—