Breaking Bad

Let's break it down.

Hydrogen. What does that give us?

By mole, we're looking at 63 percent.

Sixty-three? Wow. Mm-hm.

That is a big bite.

My next step's gotta be oxygen. Oxygen, 26 percent.

Twenty-six. There you have your water.

Carbon, 9 percent. Carbon, 9.

For a total of 98 percent. Right.

Nitrogen, 1.25 percent.

One-point-two-five.

That brings you to 99 and a quarter.

Which only leaves you with the trace elements

down where the magic happens.

Oh, wait a minute. What about calcium? Calcium's not a trace.

Got a whole skeleton to account for.

- You would think, right? - Right.

- Calcium. - Calcium's only 0.25 percent.

What? That low? Uh-huh. Mm-hm.

Seriously?

Damn, I never would've thought that.

Okay, so where does iron fit in? Iron.

Wow, okay,

0.00004 percent.

What? You can't have hemoglobin without iron.

Apparently, it don't take much. No doubt. Go figure.

Ah, sodium.

Sodium, 0.04.

Phosphorus, 0.19.

Point-one-nine.

There we go.

So the whole thing

adds up to...

99.888042 percent.

We are 0.111958 percent

shy.

Supposedly that's everything. Yeah?

Mm-hm.

I don't know, it just...

It just...

It seems like something's missing, doesn't it?

There's got to be more to a human being than that.

I hate these shoes.

Shoes make me look like I should be changing bedpans,

like I should be squeaking around

bringing soup to some disgusting old person,

then take the bus home to my 16 cats.

Then why are you wearing them?

I like the support. My arches happen to be extremely arch-y.

Yo, what's up?

Hey, can you call me, like, in two minutes?

Thanks, bye.

I gotta go take this.

Ooh. Female?

Louis.

Not like it's any of your business, though.

Just be quick about it. No.

Oh, and, um, please don't say, "Yo."

You can't know how much I hate that.

You missed a spot, right there.

Should you be up on that ladder?

You're more than welcome to take over for me up here.

I don't see why you don't get Walt to do it.

Yeah, there's an idea.

So um, I'm, uh, I'm working on this new short story

and there's this stoner character in it

and I'm trying to... um...

Well, you know, actually, let me back up.

Um, you, uh,

you smoked your fair share

of pot in college, didn't you?

I mean, you at least tried it.

Come on.

I perhaps tried it. Why?

Do you remember it having an effect on your mood?

Like, changing it in any major way?

It made me more serious.

Really?

Because I mostly remember

it made me lightheaded, that's about it.

I was just wondering if...

If it maybe could, um...

Um, you know,

it's just a character thing I'm stuck on. Never mind.

Walter, Jr.'s on pot? What? No.

No. No.

What would make you even...? Where's he getting it from?

Marie. Seriously. Is it this Louis person?

What are you gonna do about this?

Marie, you need to look me in the eye.

I am strictly asking

about a story that I'm writing, that's all.

Right hand to God, Walter Jr. Is not on pot,

certainly not as far as I know.

Not as far as you know?

Marie.

Hey, look at me.

Hey, turn around and look at me.

This... This here.

I wouldn't do this to my worst enemy.

This is degrading.

I'm sorry.

You hope I'll make it easy and just drop dead, don't you?

But I won't.

So either kill me, or let me go.

You don't have it in you, Walter.

How do you know my name?

Jesse.

He told Emilio and me.

I came by to sell your meth.

So, what, did you threaten him, huh?

Did you beat it out of him? Not even close.

What else did he tell you?

Pretty much everything he could think of.

You were his high-school teacher.

One time you taught about carbon dioxide

by making grape soda in class.

You have a son who's retarded,

or in a wheelchair or something.

It shouldn't come across as some news flash.

That partner of yours,

he's got a big mouth.

Walter,

I don't know what you think you're doing here,

but trust me,

this line of work doesn't suit you.

So I should just let you go, then?

Just unlock you

and adiós, huh?

I don't see what real choice you have.

If it's between that and cold-blooded murder.

Besides...

your real problem's sitting upstairs.

Occupied.

Hey, yo, I'm trying to pinch one off in here.

Just give me some privacy, would you?

Okay. What the hell, man?

What are you doing, man?

You asshole. What...? You told him my name.

Says who, him? My name, where I work.

You told him about my son. Hey, don't touch me.

Damn junkie. No, give me that. That's mine.

This is going down the toilet. Watch it go.

No, that's worth 40 grand, you stupid shit.

It's worth nothing when you smoke it all.

Get off the toilet.

Get off the toilet! No.

Get off the toilet.

Stop it.

No. No way.

No.

No, no, no.

Jesse, where the hell do you think you're going?

Back off, man. Jesus.

We've got work to do. No, no.

You... You got work to do. I did my part.

You mean that obscenity I spent the last two hours cleaning up?

That is your contribution? 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.

Because you didn't follow my instructions.

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.

That's what she said. Yeah.

Yeah. Yeah, I think we have some of those.

Yeah, you'll have to try them on.

Hello? Seven and a half, maybe.

I don't know. Excuse me.

Do you have these in black?

Uh-uh.

Anyways, so like I was saying,

I went to the party the other night. Yeah, Tony was there.

Whatever.

Hey, where have you been? I called you two hours ago.

Sorry, baby, I'm, uh, kind of busy here. What's up?

Well, kind of a lot, actually,

and it's a delicate subject.

So I need you to focus, and...

Hey, sit down! Sit down!

Damn it, Hank.

I'm sorry, babe, I'm just in the middle of something here.

Get...

Sit down! Sit your ass down, comprende? You too, sit down!

Shit.

I'm back, babe. What's up?

Walter Jr. Yeah, what about him?

Marijuana. He's smoking it. Bullshit.

Excuse me, his own mother seems to think so.

Skyler told you that? She inferred it.

She inferred it, huh?

She strongly inferred it.

Like, "Doctor, my friend

suffers from erectile dysfunction."