Better Call Saul, Season 6

[Mike, Gus, and Tyrus gather in the office trailer at the Los Pollos Hermanos chicken farm to discuss the aftermath of the attempted hit on Lalo Salamanca.]

Gus:
Tell me again about the sicario who made the final report.

Tyrus:
He was already wounded when he talked to our cutout. Federales found him dead at the scene. But they got Salamanca.

Gus:
The mercenaries are dead. To a man. And yet their mission was a success?

Mike:
It has been known to happen. Now you go down there and get Varga, bring him home safe. There's ways to do it on the quiet.

[Gus and Tyrus both stare at him.]

Mike:
[long pause; scoffs] ...Unless you already have something in the works.

[Tyrus turns and exits the trailer. Mike and Gus speak alone.]

Gus:
Speak your mind.

Mike:
Loyalty goes both ways. Varga's done everything you asked him.

Gus:
He wasn't given a choice.

Mike:
Maybe so, but he played a tough game. And he played it on the square.

Gus:
...And?

Mike:
When all is said and done, the kid deserves your respect.

Gus:
He has it. Is there more you wish to say?

[After a few moments pass, Mike exits the trailer]

[At the courthouse, Jimmy is confronted by the district attorney who prosecuted Lalo during his bail hearing]

ADA Khalil:
I've been calling you for two days.

Jimmy:
Oh, my girl's out sick. What can I do you for?

ADA Khalil:
Tomorrow morning, 10 A.M.

Jimmy:
Brunch? But just you and me, right? [points at Detective Roberts] I mean, won't the big fella here feel like a third wheel?

ADA Khalil:
You and I are meeting Parson in chambers. I am asking for an emergency hearing to alter the terms of De Guzman's release.

Jimmy:
Sounds like a blast. Unfortunately, I'm booked solid.

Detective Roberts:
I checked your client's place of residence. The address he gave, it's a Dairy Queen in Altamonte. The family that showed at the bail hearing can't be located. No driver's license, no tax rolls, no school records. Nothing. The fact is, there isn't a single Elizabeth McKinnon under the age of 73 living in New Mexico.

Jimmy:
Well, this is–this is surprising.

ADA Khalil:
Your client has disappeared, and I'm not waiting six weeks to start looking for him.

Jimmy:
Hey, my guy put up seven million in bail. You think he's just gonna walk away from that?

Detective Roberts:
Who comes up with seven million bucks in cash?

ADA Khalil:
You know what I think? I think the family was fake. [to Jimmy] And I think you knew it the whole time.

Jimmy:
Okay, hold up. Just get real for a second. The hearing didn't go your way, and now you're trying for a do-over? You say my guy ran, I say he's got seven million reasons for showing up when he's legally required to do so. So, no, I won't be... uh, due process window dressing at any crash meeting with Parson. And if you try throwing any of this crap around in front of the judge without my presence, here's an accusation: Prosecutorial misconduct. Career-ending prosecutorial misconduct!

Detective Roberts:
None of that changes the fact the guy's not who he said he was.

Jimmy:
No, no, no! Hold on! You guys got caught with your pants around your ankles, and somehow that's on me?! I don't think so! [points at ADA Khalil] You got two dozen lawyers up there! You got investigators—you got the whole damn police force—and it's my fault that you can't keep track of Lalo?! That is not my job!

ADA Khalil:
Lalo? Who's Lalo?

Jimmy:
What?! [blinks hard] What did I say... I meant De Guzman. I have more than one client! [chuckles] So... [clears throat] I will see you at the preliminary in six weeks as scheduled. Until then, I have clients who need me.

[Jimmy walks into an empty courtroom and sits down mulling over his slip-up]

Jimmy:
I rented us a car. It's the Ford.

Kim:
So Saul Goodman drives a brown Ford Taurus?

Jimmy:
Detroit calls that taupe, I believe.

Kim:
Don't you think Saul Goodman would drive something with a little more... flair?

Jimmy:
Such as?

Kim:
I don't know. Definitely American-made. Something showy. And Saul Goodman has an office. Something eye-catching. Good location.

Jimmy:
By the courthouse?

Kim:
Yeah. A cathedral of justice.

Jimmy:
Ooooh, a cathedral of justice. Okay, yeah.

Kim:
We should start looking for something for you. I mean, for Saul.

Jimmy:
Sold. When do we start?

[Jimmy takes a guided tour of the country club where Howard and Cliff are members, meeting with a tour guide named Norm in the main lounge.]

Norm:
Hi, Norm Wakely. I understand you're in the market for a tour.

Jimmy:
That's right. Saul Goodman.

Norm:
Great to meet you, Mr. Goodman.

Jimmy:
No please, call me Saul.

Norm:
Great. So Saul, can I get you anything before we get started? The coffee here is just unbeatable.

Jimmy:
Uh, well, I'm fine. I'm fully caffeinated.

[Kevin Wachtell walks into the room and becomes upset upon seeing Jimmy in the lounge.]

Norm:
Well Saul, you and I are standing on hallowed ground. Five presidents have played on our course, starting with Dwight D. Eisenhower. But the story goes back even further than that–

Kevin:
Norm.

[Jimmy and Norm turn toward Kevin.]

Kevin:
Can I have a sec, please?

Jimmy:
Kevin, hey. How's it going?

Norm:
Uh, I'm sorry. I'm sure this will just be a moment.

[Norm goes over to Kevin and talks to him for a few moments, clearly being instructed to remove Jimmy from the premises.]

Norm:
Mr. Goodman. I'm so sorry, but I've just been reminded that in fact we have a two-year waiting list.

Jimmy:
Two years, wow. Maybe I could go on the tour anyway. I mean, 'cause I'm here. Just in case.

Norm:
Well unfortunately, we've suspended tours for the moment.

Jimmy:
You're not even giving tours?

Norm:
I apologize for the inconvenience. We–we'll be happy to call you if the situation changes. You left your number?

Jimmy:
Uh-huh.

Norm:
Well, we'll be in touch. If the situation changes. Again, I–I am sorry for your time and trouble. We just–[sighs] We had a few crosswires.

Jimmy:
Well... okay then.

Norm:
Thank you.

[Jimmy is about the leave the lounge, but impulsively stops, turns around, and approaches Norm again.]

Jimmy:
I'm sorry.

Norm:
Oh, yes.

Jimmy:
Um, just so I understand: you were going to give me a tour and then realized you don't need new members?

Norm:
We have a waiting list.

Jimmy:
Okay, but you're the membership director...

Norm:
I know.

Jimmy:
...so you would have known that before. It doesn't really add up. I mean, I came in and everyone was rolling out the red carpet, and then all of a sudden something changed. I don't–

Norm:
Mr. Goodman, I–

Jimmy:
Goodman. The name. The second you heard it, everything turned on a dime. Wow. Waiting list? I think you're talking about an exclusion list. It's okay, I should have known. Because, I mean, look! [raises his voice and walks to the middle of the lounge, where everyone can see him] It's wall-to-wall mayonnaise in here! So listen, if you're going to be restrictive, have the courage to say so!

Norm:
There's no question–

Jimmy:
There it is, folks! Anti-Semitism, alive and well right here in Albuquerque!

Norm:
Sir! We have many Jewish members!

Jimmy:
Oh, good. Well, you met your quota then. Gold star for you.

[Kevin, flanked by two of his golf buddies, interjects]

Kevin:
Hold on. That's gotta be the biggest load of horse crap I've ever heard in my life. Go crawl back in your hole, McGill or Goodman–whatever you're calling yourself. What are you up to, anyway? Ginning up another one of your put-up job lawsuits? You two-faced, blackmailing, money-grubbing son of a bitch!

Jimmy:
Money-grubbing! You're saying the quiet part out loud, I think.

Norm:
Gentlemen, can we just keep the volume down?

Kevin:
You know damn well that's not what I meant!

Jimmy:
In this day and age, I'd hoped and prayed we'd be beyond this.

Kevin:
You're about as Jewish as my Aunt Fannie!

Jimmy:
Five-thousand years and it never ends!

[Kevin tries to take a swing at Jimmy, but is held back by his golf buddies]

Jimmy:
Here it is! Violence! It always comes to this!

Norm:
Mr. Wachtell, please!

Kevin's Buddy:
Come on, Kev.

Kevin:
[to Jimmy] You go to hell, you lying sack of shit.

[Kevin and his golf buddies leave the lounge]

Norm:
Sir. Mr. Goodman, I don't know what to say. That is not–

Jimmy:
I wouldn't be a member here. I wouldn't walk through those doors again after what happened to me here today. [feigns tears] Do you at least have a bathroom that I could use, seeing as how my–Stress like that is hell on my diverticulitis.

Norm:
The men's locker room is the closest. It's straight through there.

Jimmy:
And I would be allowed to go in there?

Norm:
Yes, of course.

Jimmy:
I want you to know I don't blame you personally. I know you were just following orders. [to everyone in the lounge] It's okay, folks! I'm leaving! All is well!

[Lalo is preparing to be smuggled across the border with a group of undocumented immigrants when he decides to call the Casa Tranquila Nursing Home and speak to Hector. A nurse holds a phone up to Hector's ear in the common room. Hector uses his bell to communicate.]

Lalo:
[in Spanish] Uncle, can you hear me? Do you know my voice?

[Hector visibly recognizes Lalo's voice]

Hector:
[rings bell twice]

Lalo:
They told you about the attack, didn't they?

Hector:
[rings once]

Lalo:
Let them keep believing I'm dead. So much the better. It was the chicken man. That coward sat up there in the north while his paramilitaries came into my home. My home, Uncle! Screw Bolsa, screw Eladio. I'm coming north. I'm going to hurt him. Hurt him like you taught me. And then I will kill him.

Hector:
[rings repeatedly in agreement]

Lalo:
What is it?

[The nurse takes the phone from Hector]

Nurse:
Hector? [to Lalo] Excuse me. I'm so sorry, but Hector seems a little upset.

Lalo:
[in English] Yeah, sorry. Um, I'm just– I'm sharing a bit of family news, some good, some bad. Would you mind putting him back on? It will only be a minute.

Nurse:
Of course.

[The nurse again holds the phone to Hector's ear]

Lalo:
[in Spanish] Uncle?

Hector:
[rings twice]

Lalo:
What is it? Do you have another idea?

Hector:
[rings twice]

Lalo:
Okay, let's see. A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N, Ñ, O, P–

Hector:
[rings once]

Lalo:
P? That's right?

Hector:
[rings once]

Lalo:
Okay. What's next? A, B, C, D...

[Cut to the common room; Hector rings twice]

Lalo:
...L, M, N, Ñ...

[Cut to the common room; Hector rings once.]

Lalo:
U? Prueba?

Hector:
[rings once]

Lalo:
Is that what you're saying? Proof?

Hector:
[rings twice]

Lalo:
Uncle, I don't have any proof. For months I was in the north watching him, following his men. There was nothing.

[Lalo has a flash of realization.]

Lalo:
Wait... There is proof. I know where to find it. Goodbye, Uncle. You will see me soon.

Jimmy:
"I was a hard worker. I was a company man. Twenty years, and I didn't miss a single day. They even gave me a plaque for it. [sighs] It was a gold plaque. Perfect attendance... But when they handed it to me, I wrenched my back. I was in so much pain, I couldn't do my job... [sighs again] which meant I couldn't put food on the table. I didn't want to sue... but with a family to support, what choice did I have?"

Kim:
Wait, who are you supposed to be again?

Jimmy:
Whatever. The backstory is just a placeholder. I'm gonna polish the script once we cast.

Kim:
But a personal injury suit? Best case scenario, that gets him in with an associate.

Jimmy:
[throws hands up] Mesothelioma. [clears his throat] "When I took that job down at the shoe factory, I had no idea I was risking my life. Now, I can't stop coughin'!" Right? Come on! Hey, a mesothelioma class-action built Clifford Main his vacation house. He hears "mesothelioma," his eyes pop!

Kim:
Well, sure. But then he takes the case. What happens when he asks for a medical evaluation? And how does Howard come up?

Jimmy:
Okay, ask me why I'm here.

Kim:
What brings you to Davis & Main today?

Jimmy:
"I'm sick. I'm really sick..."

Kim:
Good.

Jimmy:
"...and it's not mesothelioma, but it's not good. And I need a lawyer, and the pickings are slim. I already went to HHM. I met with their top guy, Howard Hamlin, and uh... Uhhh, I–I got a brother-in-law and he's got a pretty nasty coke habit, very similar energy. Just put me off. Anyway, I need a lawyer, blah-blah-blah."

Kim:
Okay, but you got a bad feeling from just one meeting?

Jimmy:
Yeah, I had the brother-in-law with the coke.

Kim:
Yeah, but you were only in the room with him once.

Jimmy:
Okay, so it's gotta be something with a history with Howard.

Kim:
Yeah.

Jimmy:
But Cliff has to want to take the meeting, but not the case.

Kim:
Right.

Jimmy:
[sighs] It's gotta be good, but not too good.

Kim:
Exactly. There's a sweet spot, you know. Like a magnet. We–we pull Cliff in, and then repel him. [beat] Oh!

Jimmy:
What?

Kim:
[sighs] You are going to hate this...

[Jimmy tracks down the Kettlemans to their shady tax preparation office and tries to rope them into his and Kim's plan to ruin Howard's reputation]

Betsy:
[to Jimmy] You've got some nerve coming here after what you did! [shoves Jimmy] Leave! Because of you, we lost everything! Our kids are in public school! So why don't you go crawl back under whatever slime-covered rock you came from and leave us the heck alone?!

Jimmy:
Okay, I sense some anger here, but that's–that's perfectly understandable. Since you brought it up, I came here today because I was curious if you two wanted your lives back. There's actually a legal term for it: Exoneration.

Craig:
Oh. You know, we actually did look into that.

Betsy:
Yep.

Craig:
We went to a number of lawyers, and—

Betsy:
Real lawyers.

Craig:
Yes. They were all terrific, but they said that it was impossible.

Betsy:
Mm-hmm.

Jimmy:
Okay, but those lawyers don't know what I know.

Craig:
What's that?

Betsy:
No, Craig. He's got an angle.

Jimmy:
I do have an angle, Craig. It's an angle called justice. [Betsy scoffs and snickers] Let me put it this way: I think that within Craig's case, I have found the grounds for a civil suit. A big one. [pause; quietly] Big.

Betsy:
[long pause; looks at Craig] Okay, then. Let's hear it.

Jimmy:
Let's hold your horses, because we've been down this road before. And the last time I gave you two advice, you went straight to the competition with it. [pulls out a piece of paper from inside his suit] So, I just need some assurances that all my hard work isn't gonna end up in the hands of, uh, Clifford Main or some other asshole at some pretentious high-pay, white-shoe law firm. So before we talk turkey, letters of engagement.

Craig:
Yes.

Jimmy:
Yeah, you remember these. I made some updates, just closed a few loopholes and whatnot. So... [holds out paper and pen]

Betsy:
[stops Craig from taking the pen] We're not signing anything.

Jimmy:
You have to sign if you want to know what I know.

Betsy:
We're not signing.

Jimmy:
Really? You're sure?

Betsy:
Yep.

Jimmy:
Craig?

Craig:
[looks at Betsy before shaking his head] Thanks anyway.

Jimmy:
[unclicks pen] Alright. Well, uh... Sorry we couldn't work something out.

Betsy:
I'm sure you are.

[Jimmy overhears Betsy and Craig arguing as he walks around the trailer. He balls the pen in his fist]

Craig:
Mr. Goodman!

Jimmy:
[smiles; clicks pen and takes out letter] Best decision you've ever made. [turns his back to Craig for him to sign the letter] Here you go.

Betsy:
[after Craig signs the letter] So what do you know?

Jimmy:
You got one, too, Betsy. [holds out another letter]

[Betsy snatches the pen and paper from Jimmy and signs the letter while pressing the pen hard on Jimmy's back]

Jimmy:
Oh, come on. That's not... Ow. All right. Well, we're officially in business. Now, I have it on good authority here that Craig was not given proper counsel.

Betsy:
We already knew that.

Jimmy:
But did you ask yourselves why?

Craig:
No. Why?

Jimmy:
What if I told you that in your hour of need, the person who was supposed to be on your side was impaired?

Craig:
Impaired?

Jimmy:
It's a... a person of substance. [as Betsy and Craig talk to each other quietly] Substance in question being a certain illegal white powder.

Betsy:
That awful woman with the ponytail is a cocaine addict.

Jimmy:
No, not Kim Wexler! No! Craig's lead attorney, Howard Hamlin!

Craig:
Oh. I thought he was so... professional and energetic. Upbeat.

Betsy:
Oh...

Jimmy:
"Oh," is right.

Craig:
So upbeat is bad?

Jimmy:
In this case, it's textbook malpractice. The magic phrase is, "ineffective assistance of counsel." If your guy wasn't nose deep in the devil's dandruff, well, Craig's case would've turned out completely different.

Craig:
Oh, my God!

Betsy:
Don't we need some kind of proof?

Jimmy:
All the dirty laundry comes out in discovery. It’s just trips to rehab, secret drug deals. All we gotta do is get the ball rolling. So, I say we get started on your affidavits.

Craig:
Yes.

Betsy:
About that. We happen to know a thing or two about our rights, Mr. McGill. And it doesn’t matter what you force us to sign. We don’t have to work with any lawyer we don’t want. [gets in Jimmy's face] And that means... you’re fired.

Jimmy:
I am not fired.

Betsy:
Oh yes, you are!

Jimmy:
No! No!

Craig:
He’s fired?

Betsy:
Craig!

Jimmy:
No, you can’t fire me! I found this case, it’s mine! Hey, you wanna hear about rights?! The second you say where you got this information from, guess who automatically gets a cut?! Me! So go ahead! Go ahead, see what happens!

[Jimmy pretends to be upset after the Kettlemans leave, but slowly starts smiling as he walks away]

[Gus and Juan Bolsa visit Hector at Casa Tranquila to send their condolences, still believing that Lalo is dead. The dialogue is in Spanish.]

Bolsa:
He wishes to make amends. At least hear him out.

Gus:
Don Hector. It's no secret that I did not see eye to eye with your nephew. And while the friction between your family and myself did not start with him, today I am reminded we are all Eladio's men. No matter our disagreements, a strike against one is a strike against all. I hope you will accept my condolences and my support as you navigate this terrible loss.

Bolsa:
Gustavo speaks the truth. In this matter, he and I both stand shoulder to shoulder behind the Salamanca family. We are still looking for the traitor, Ignacio Varga. [places hand on Hector's shoulder] We will find him. And then your family will have justice.

[Hector slowly reaches his hand out to Gus. As Gus holds his hand, he notices a change of expression on Hector's face and stares at him. Cut to outside the nursing home.]

Bolsa:
[to Gus in English] We'll be in touch.

[Gus calls Mike on his cell phone after Bolsa drives away]

Mike:
What did you learn?

Gus:
Lalo Salamanca lives.

[Jimmy gets a call from Betsy Kettleman after she finds out there was no case against Howard]

Jimmy:
Saul Goodman, speedy justice for you. Oh, wait! Okay, just take a breath, and then we can... Okay, okay. I can tell you're upset. Just... I–I never advised that. No. [sighs] No, I did not, so let's agree to disagree. [pause] Okay, I think you're going to want to meet in person before you do anything rash. So how about–how about we meet up, and we can hash this out. [pause] Yeah, sure! Tomorrow, first thing. Uh, 9 A.M, I can come to your office. That work? ...Okay, okay! Good! [hangs up]

Kim:
I'm surprised it took them this long. You, uh... You're gonna use the stick, right?

Jimmy:
The stick? Well, it's a big stick. But I know these people, they're more carrot types. Especially her. [takes out cash and puts the bills in his suit pocket] Spoonful of sugar, you know?

Kim:
[beat] I think maybe I'll come, too.

Jimmy:
Tomorrow? Really?

Kim:
Sure. I have time.

Jimmy:
[pause] Okay.

Tyrus:
They found the truck, but no sign of Varga. Salamancas have all eyes looking for him, including the federales. Still not picking up his cell, so nobody got a lock on it. Now as for Lalo, still missing. As far as everybody in the cartel is concerned, top to bottom, Lalo is dead.

Mike:
May I offer a thought? [pause; to Gus] If Salamanca was coming straight for you, he'd be here already. We've got guys watching anywhere he might turn up this side of Mexico. Wire taps on any phone he might call. There is not a whiff of him. Now, my guess is he's smart enough to know it's not in the Salamanca family interest to take you out without a reason the bosses can get behind. So, the odds are he's searching for Varga. Finds him alive, gets him to talk. [pause; Gus remains silent] Varga's alone in foreign territory, no one he can trust. The kid's smart, but he's not gonna last. [Gus stands up] He's gonna get caught.

[Gus accidentally knocks a glass over and kneels down to pick up the shards from the floor]

Gus:
Continue.

Mike:
The best way to handle this: I take four of our best guys, cross the border and track Varga down. Let me find him, bring him back before the Salamancas sweep him up. It's our only play.

[After cleaning up the broken glass, Gus throws it away and looks out a nearby window]

Gus:
[beat; in Spanish] Varga's father. Bring him here.

Mike:
No. You're not doing that. [locks the door after Tyrus gets his gun out] You don't understand. That's not happening.

Tyrus:
[walks up to Mike and aims gun at him] Just say the word.

Mike:
Whatever happens next... it's not gonna go down the way you think it is.

[Mike stares at Tyrus, who cocks his gun and waits for Mike to make a move.]

Mike:
[beat; hears cell phone vibrating] It's him.

Tyrus:
Bullshit. I've been calling Varga for hours. He hasn't picked up once.

Mike:
He's been trying to get me since he left the Salamancas. [opens phone] You want me to answer it?

[Tyrus turns to Gus, who nods. Mike answers the phone and speaks to Nacho]

Mike:
Yeah. [pause] Yeah. ...Not my call. [pause] That's up to you. [to Gus] He wants to talk to you.

Betsy:
You used us – us and our good name – to character-assassinate Howard Hamlin. Somehow, some way, it benefits you to tear him down.

Craig:
Yeah. And we're–we're mad.

Jimmy:
Okay, yeah. I'm hearing a lot of unfounded accusations being tossed around. I don't know anything about schemes or character assassination or whatnot, but... [clears throat] if you're feeling slighted, we can make it right. [Jimmy hands Betsy a bundle of cash]

Betsy:
Money? [scoffs] Money's not gonna take care of this.

Jimmy:
Money takes care of everything. Isn't that the motto stitched onto the Kettleman family crest?

Betsy:
We don't want money.

Jimmy:
I am non-plussed. I'm guessing you want something.

Betsy:
Do what you promised.

Jimmy:
Do what I what?

Betsy:
Exonerate Craig. Get his good name back.

Jimmy:
Alright. Well, as you've been advised, for a number of reasons that's not gonna happen.

Betsy:
It is gonna happen. It is. It's... You're just gonna have to figure out a way.

Craig:
If anyone can do this, it's you.

Betsy:
I know you don't want us going to Howard Hamlin. Because whatever it is you're up to, I'm sure he would be very interested.

Jimmy:
Okay, let's just go easy on the threats.

Betsy:
We want our lives back! The way they were before. Before. We lost... everything! And we don't deserve any of this.

Kim:
Okay. Enough carrot. [clears throat]

[Kim turns to the home phone next to her and begins to dial]

Craig:
Dial 9 to get out.

Kim:
Oh, thank you.

Betsy:
[whispering; to Craig] We didn't give her permission to use the phone.

Craig:
[whispering; to Betsy] She needs to use the phone.

Jimmy:
Kim... ?

[The line connects; Kim speaks through the phone's speaker]

Receptionist:
Internal Revenue Service, Albuquerque.

Kim:
Hi. Could you put me through to Justin Stangel in Criminal Investigations?

Receptionist:
One moment, please.

Betsy:
[to Kim] What are you doing? Excuse me!

Justin:
This is Justin.

Kim:
Justin, Kim Wexler. How are you?

Justin:
Hey, Kim. Good to hear from you.

Kim:
How are Noreen and the boys?

Justin:
Oh, hanging in. Noreen always talks about having you by for dinner some time.

Kim:
We should do that. Tell her to call me. Listen, I was wondering who your CID officer is these days.

Justin:
You have something for us?

Kim:
Oh, I just might: Tax preparer fraud. A lot of it.

Justin:
I'm listening.

Kim:
Well, it's this, uh, run-down little mom-and-pop outfit I've had my eye on for a while. [chuckles] Don't ask me why. Clearly, I need to get a life. But from what I can glean, their clients always end up with smaller refunds than they deserve.

Betsy:
[whispering] Please don't do this.

Justin:
Do the clients sign over third-party authorization?

Kim:
Bingo. So what I'm thinking is, these creeps file legit returns with you guys, give the clients fake ones that show about half the proper amount, and then pocket the difference.

Justin:
Classic scam. Well, I know just the guy to go after these dirtbags. Tony Oropallo. Real bulldog. I'll transfer you over.

Kim:
Such a big help, Justin.

Justin:
You got it. Talk soon.

Betsy:
You don't have to do this.

Kim:
[to Betsy] Don't I? Betsy... You'll probably get twenty-four months, maybe eighteen with good behavior. But Craig? You are a two-time loser. They will definitely make an example out of you. Each false return they discover will be a separate felony. What are we talking? A hundred?

Betsy:
Uh...

Kim:
Two-hundred?

Tony:
[beat] CID, Anthony Oropallo speaking.

[Betsy runs to the phone and slams down the receiver to end the call]

Betsy:
Please. We'll do anything. Just tell us.

Kim:
[beat] Why would I believe you? Huh?

Craig:
Please.

Kim:
[long pause] First. First, you contact every person you've ripped off. Tell them you made an accounting error, tell them you're crooks who had a change of heart, I don't care. Give them what they are legally owed. Everything you stole. And then after that, you're going to forget you ever heard the name Howard Hamlin. I'm keeping my eye on both of you. You think you've lost everything? You have no idea.

[Kim leaves the room with Jimmy while the Kettlemans stand shellshocked, on the verge of tears]

Jimmy:
Wolves and sheep.

Kim:
Huh?

Jimmy:
...Nothing.

[Nacho calls his father from an auto shop while on the run]

Manuel:
A-to-Z Fine Upholstery. Hello?

Nacho:
Dad. It's me.

Manuel:
Nacho?

Nacho:
Si, Papa. Hola.

Manuel:
[sighs] Hola, hijo. [in Spanish] How are you?

Nacho:
[in Spanish] Good, good. Um... just wanted to hear your voice.

Manuel:
Nacho, where are you? You sound strange.

Nacho:
[pause] It's not important.... I was just checking in, that's all.

Manuel:
Okay. Mijo, I have lots of work to do. We've been through this, so many times. You know what you have to do... go to the police.

Nacho:
Yes, Papa. I understand... I hear you.

Manuel:
[pause] What else is there to say? Hmm? Goodbye, hijo.

Nacho:
[choked up] Goodbye, Papa.

[Nacho calls Mike at an auto repair shop in Mexico while on the run from the Salamancas]

Mike:
Yeah.

Nacho:
It's me.

Mike:
Yeah.

Nacho:
You knew. You knew that I was going to Mexico to die, that I was never supposed to make it out of that motel. And you let it happen.

Mike:
Not my call.

Nacho:
What happens now?

Mike:
That's up to you.

Nacho:
Is that bastard with you? Put him on.

Mike:
Hmm. [to Gus] He wants to talk to you.

Gus:
[takes cell phone from Mike; to Nacho] Yes.

Nacho:
You are screwed. [pause] You want the cartel to blame me for Lalo. But if they catch me, and make me talk? Ooh... That is not good for you, is it? Even if I disappear, everyone's gonna smell your stink all over it. The only way that this works for you is with me dead. [beat] Alright. Whatever bullshit way you want the story to go, I will make it go. But... I need one thing.

Gus:
Yes?

Nacho:
My dad. I need to know that he will be safe.

Gus:
If you are true to your word, there will be no reason for anyone to harm your father.

Nacho:
You are not the one that I need to hear it from.

[Gus puts the phone on speaker so Mike can speak to Nacho]

Mike:
Your dad's gonna be okay.

Nacho:
How do you know?

Mike:
Because anyone who goes after him is gonna have to come through me.

[Jimmy and Huell sit in a car; Jimmy pays Huell for duplicating the keys to Howard's Jaguar]

Huell:
Can I ask you sum'n?

Jimmy:
Sure, go ahead.

Huell:
Personal, kind of.

Jimmy:
Okay. What?

Huell:
You're a lawyer. You make good money, right?

Jimmy:
Good days and bad, but yeah.

Huell:
Legit money, on the level.

Jimmy:
Yeah, so?

Huell:
Your wife's a lawyer. A legit lawyer.

Jimmy:
Yeah.

Huell:
Why you do all this?

Jimmy:
Oh, I got you. I–I know from the outside that this looks like just another scam, but you're not seeing the bigger picture. Couple months from now, there are people whose lives are gonna be way better. Because of this. We're making a real difference. Trust me. We're doing the Lord's work here.

Huell:
Hmph. If you say so.

Jimmy:
What's going on?

Kim:
I have news, Jimmy. Lalo is dead.

Jimmy:
[exhales deeply] Holy shit.

Kim:
The DA's office put it together that Lalo was calling himself De Guzman. They are pretty upset they let him go.

Jimmy:
I'll bet they are.

Kim:
Ericsen seems to think that if Lalo lied to you and you didn't know about the pseudonym, that you could break confidentiality. She wants you to talk. She says it's right.

Jimmy:
Well, what do you think we should do?

Kim:
You... should do whatever you want, Jimmy. They don't have anything on you. It's just a fishing expedition to see if you bite.

Jimmy:
[pause] You think I should do it?

Kim:
It depends.

Jimmy:
On what?

Kim:
Well... [sighs] I guess it's basically... Do you want to be a friend of the cartel or... do you want to be a rat?

[Nacho is driven to a remote location with Gus, Tyrus and Victor. There they meet Juan Bolsa, Hector Salamanca, and the Cousins. Bolsa kneels next to Nacho.]

Bolsa:
Today, you are going to die. But there are good deaths, and there are bad deaths. Tell me what I need to know, I'll see that your death is a good one. Who put you up to this?

[Nacho glances at Gus, as if he's about to turn on him]

Bolsa:
One last chance. Who? [long pause; scoffs and gets up to leave]

Nacho:
It was Alvarez. Los Odios, out of Peru. They paid me to set up your nephew. And I did.

[Hector furiously rings his bell and attempts to point to Gus, who he knows is the real culprit]

Bolsa:
Alvarez, we know. Los Odios, we know. Was anyone else involved?

Nacho:
[scoffs; nods to Gus] Him? You think the chicken man? Heh. What a joke. Alvarez has been paying me for years – years. [to the Salamancas] But you know what? I would have done it for free. Because I hate every last one of you psycho sacks of shit. I opened Lalo's gate, and I would do it again. And I'm glad what they did to him. He's a soulless pig, and I wished I'd killed him with my own hands. And you know what else, Hector? I put you in that chair. Oh, yeah. Your heart meds? I switched them for sugar pills. You were dead and buried, and I had to watch this asshole... [gestures to Gus] ...bring you back. So when you are sitting in your shitty nursing home and you're sucking down on your Jell-O night after night for the rest of your life, you think of me, you twisted fuck.

Jimmy:
What kind of asshole moves a cone?!

Jimmy:
So, I pull the Jag into the loading zone. And I start scrappin' with this hunk of metal. It was in deep—like, "down a well" deep—so I just... wrassled it! UGH! [Kim laughs hysterically] Like a freakin' bear, and I jam it in the dirt in front of the Jag! Boom! Barely made it out of there with the skin of my teeth. Who moves cones? Who does that?

Kim:
Narcissists.

Jimmy:
Heh, you're damn right. So you think Cliff really bought it, huh?

Kim:
One hundred percent! You should've seen his face. It landed, trust me. God, it was... beautiful. [pause] Oh, and that is not all.

Jimmy:
Spill.

Kim:
So... I'm doing the stall. I'm telling Cliff what I'm doing—what I wanna be doing. All I'm thinking is, I gotta stretch this out until you get there, but then... I don't know. I... kinda got caught up in it, and then... Cliff went for it. I mean, like, really went for it.

Jimmy:
What does that mean? Like, money?

Kim:
I don't think he'll write a check himself, but he knows people. And I think he'll deliver.

Jimmy:
You're kidding!

Kim:
I know! How great is that?

Jimmy:
This is unbelievable. [Kim laughs] Are we on a roll, or are we on a roll? Jeez!

Kim:
[beat] You ever feel like you're being followed? [pause] When I dropped Wendy off at the motel, she thought she was being watched by some undercover cops. But then when I drove away... that same car was behind me. Right after I spotted them, they disappeared.

Jimmy:
Well, you know what they say: The wicked flee where no man pursueth.

Kim:
...You think we're wicked?

Jimmy:
No. What? [chuckles] It's just a turn of phrase. I think you're wicked hot. [pause] Alright. Listen to the voice of experience, okay? You know why you're feeling like this? Because we got away with it. It seems too good to be true, but trust me. Nobody is following you. [takes Kim's hand] No one knows what we're doing except for us. Okay?

Kim:
[pause] Okay.

[Jimmy confronts Bill Oakley at the courthouse when he notices his colleagues' cold treatment of him]

Jimmy:
What the hell is going on?! How come everyone's treating me like I'm covered in oozing pus sores?

Bill:
I liked you better when you were just a regular bottom feeder. But this?

Jimmy:
This? What is, "this?"

Bill:
I understand advocating for your client. Deep in my heart, I get it. But you scammed the court. You scammed the judge, and for what? To get a murdering cartel psychopath back out on the street? It's just... wrong.

Jimmy:
That's a lot of big talk, Bill. Prove it. Prove it, Bill!

Bill:
There's proving, and then there's knowing.

Mike:
They're gone.

Kim:
I'm sorry?

Mike:
The two men that were following you. They're gone.

Kim:
Do I know you?

Mike:
Would you mind sitting for a moment, and I will answer any questions I can. [pause; Kim sits down next to Mike] I have men watching you and your husband. I'm not with the police, and as far as I know, they're not investigating either of you. I do know that you've been up to a few things that you probably would rather keep private. I don't care. That's not what this is about. I'm trying to solve a problem of my own.

Kim:
What problem?

Mike:
Lalo Salamanca.

Kim:
Lalo Salamanca's dead. [beat; Mike says nothing and stares at Kim] He... isn't.

Mike:
We're watching anyone he might contact. That includes you and your husband. Most likely, he'll never reach out. He's got bigger fish to fry. But in the thousand to one chance that he does...

Kim:
And who do you work for?

Mike:
I said I would answer anything I can.

Kim:
[long pause] You're the guy from the desert. The one who was out there with Jimmy. Why are you telling me this and not him?

Mike:
Because I think you're made of sterner stuff. [pause; gets up] Alright. Now here's what's best for everyone. You spot my guys again—which I'm hoping you won't—let them go about their business. Just pretend they're not there. And pretty soon, they won't be. You and your husband just... go on living your lives. [starts to leave]

Kim:
I do know you. You worked in the parking booth at the courthouse. [pause] You were the attendant.

Mike:
...I was.

[Kim meets Jimmy at a strip mall where an office space is available for lease]

Kim:
What are we doing here?

Jimmy:
Take a look. What do you think?

Kim:
About what?

Jimmy:
My new office. Potentially. Come on.

[They both peer through the storefront windows of the office, which is empty except for a lone toilet]

Kim:
Huh.

Jimmy:
Mrs. Nguyen kicked me to the curb.

Kim:
What? Why?

Jimmy:
It's a long story, but upshot is she wants me out of there with extreme prejudice.

Kim:
Wow. Bad day, huh?

Jimmy:
Well, no. It was a... great day. With actual paying clients. The word is out! People were throwing cash retainers at me just to say Saul Goodman is their lawyer.

Kim:
Because of who you represented.

Jimmy:
Well, I mean, that's part of it. But the bottom line is I need a new place for new business pronto. Now, this place is a shithole, but the price is right. And I think I can talk the landlord into a month-to-month. So, it's temporary until I find something better. [sighs; pause] Hey. What do you think?

Kim:
[beat] It's small. It's... dirty. And this whole place smells funny. [pause] But the courthouse is five blocks away. You can't get to MDC without driving past. Parking is good, bail bond row isn't far, and uh... Taco Cabeza is just around the corner. Might be a diamond in the rough. Just promise me... you won't move the toilet.

Jimmy:
[chuckles] There it is. Alright. Uh... speaking of Taco Cabeza.

Kim:
I'm starving. Let's do it.

[Cliff informs Howard about witnessing Jimmy throw Wendy out of Howard's car]

Howard:
I threw a woman out of my car? In the middle of the street? And I–zip–I just drive right past you? I... That's what you're saying? I-I-I don't even... I don't know how to respond to that.

Cliff:
I'm not asking you to respond. I just need you to know that I know.

Howard:
It wasn't me, Cliff! Whoever you think you saw–

Cliff:
Yeah, sorry, but that's the kind of thing my son used to say. It was your Jaguar, your "Namaste" plate. It was you! Howard, there's no harm in asking for help. You got a lot of people in your corner.

Howard:
So there's the-the baggie at the county club.

Cliff:
Yes.

Howard:
After that, some clients who you can't name because of privilege make insinuations. Then on Thursday, you have a business meeting, and you witness a Jaguar speeding past. [beat] Who were you meeting with?

Cliff:
Not sure why that's germaine, but... Kim Wexler. She came to me for career advice.

[Howard's face becomes awash with realization]

Howard:
Mmm. All right. [pause] Okay. [takes out his cell phone] Of course. [scoffs] Of course. [to Cliff] Cliff, I know this wasn't easy for you. You came to me as a friend. I appreciate it.

Cliff:
You can start today, Howard.

Howard:
Oh, I will. Because you're right. I do have a problem, just not the problem you think. I have a Jimmy McGill problem.

Cliff:
Jimmy McGill?!

Howard:
You'll have to excuse me.

Cliff:
Howard!

Howard:
[to his secretary on the phone] Julie. Cancel my week. Yes, my whole week.

Cliff:
Howard!

[Howard climbs into his Jaguar and drives away]

[Jimmy walks into a boxing club and sees Howard, who pretended to be a potential client named "Mr. Ward"]

Howard:
Hello, Jimmy.

Jimmy:
Mr. Ward, I presume. As in... "H.O. Ward". That is really cute, Howard. So, wait. That means that you're the guy who shanked some dude in a rumble near Central Pen. [sighs] That's—that's very street of you.

Howard:
I thought it sounded like a Saul Goodman kind of case.

Jimmy:
...Alright, so what are we doing here?

Howard:
I'm tired, Jimmy. You and me, us. I'm tired of this. Aren't you? It's exhausting. [points at boxing ring behind him] Let's punch it out.

Jimmy:
[chuckles] Are you kidding?

Howard:
Dead serious. Hoping you might get it out of your system. Do I think it'll work? [shrugs] I don't know. Call it a Hail Mary. I have the gear, I rented the ring. It's just you and me... [points at the man standing behind Jimmy] and Macky to ref.

Jimmy:
[pause] I am sorry, but have you lost your mind?

Howard:
Actually, I'm as clear-headed as I've ever been in my life. You didn't even try to hide your tracks. The baggie of drugs at the country club, the clients you sent to discredit me, another prostitute.

Jimmy:
Okay, once again as usual, I—

Howard:
Please. I could go on. All roads lead back to you. It's Psych 101. You want to get caught.

Jimmy:
So what? Is this like pistols at dawn?

Howard:
I'm trying to give you what you want.

Jimmy:
What I want? I don't... I think this is what you want. You wanna beat the shit out of me? Legally?

Howard:
I think you can hold up your end. You must've gotten into a few good scrapes in your old neighborhood.

Jimmy:
Yeah, right. I could've been a contender.

Howard:
Indulge me. Let's see what we see.

Jimmy:
[pause; smiles] Thanks for the laughs. [chuckles] "Mr. Ward."

[Jimmy laughs and starts to walk out, but stops. He and Howard are seen suited up with boxing gloves as they begin their fight. They both land a few punches on each other, but Howard eventually knocks Jimmy down]

Howard:
[to Jimmy] You've mistaken my kindness for weakness. I like to think that tonight made a difference. I like to think that this ends it. [pause; shakes his head] Probably not.

Jimmy:
I should've left Howard standing there like a yutz. Instead I let him suck me into his game. Why did I do that?

Kim:
You had your reasons.

Jimmy:
I did? Like what?

Kim:
Because... you know.

Jimmy:
I know...?

Kim:
[holds Jimmy's hand] You know what's coming next.

[Lalo has travelled to Germany using an alias, and meets Margarethe, Werner's widow, at a bar]

Margarethe:
I knew his work was dangerous. I never imagined such a thing, but... I suppose I try not to.

Lalo:
That is terrible. What kind of accident was it?

Margarethe:
A cave-in.

Lalo:
Cave-in?

Margarethe:
He was able to save his men. He got them out, but then... the structure collapsed.

Lalo:
So your husband was a hero.

Margarethe:
[smiles] He would never accept that. My Werner was too humble.

Lalo:
...And what were they building there?

Margarethe:
My husband didn't talk much about his work. It was very secretive.

Lalo:
Oh... I'm sure he must have told you something.

Margarethe:
The lawyers came to my house. I asked questions, they wouldn't say much.

Lalo:
[shakes his head] Lawyers.

Margarethe:
They went through Werner's things. Took anything that they called, uh... Oh, how do you say it? [pause] Proprietary? I'm sorry, my English is—

Lalo:
Oh, it's excellent.

Margarethe:
I didn't care about it. All the boxes of folders, his papers. Why do I need all that stuff?

Lalo:
And what about your husband's men? I mean, they must have said something to you.

Margarethe:
Werner loved deine jungs—his boys—but I never even met them.

Lalo:
What do you mean? Not even at the funeral?

Margarethe:
You'd think they would want to pay respect to the man who saved their lives. They sent flowers, keepsakes, and so on... but not one of them showed his face.

Lalo:
Wow. That is... [sighs] It's just not right.

Jimmy:
Holy shit! The Jackson Mercer Foundation, that's like... the good housekeeping seal of approval.

Kim:
Well, it's not a done deal. Some of the foundation board members are flying in next week to meet the lieutenant governor at a luncheon in Santa Fe, so... they are inviting a select group of people with... Cliff called them, "up-and-coming organizations," and uh... Yeah. Cliff thinks I have a good shot.

Jimmy:
A good shot? You have more than a shot! They are gonna love you on sight!

Kim:
The only thing is the lunch is on D-Day.

Jimmy:
So, what? That's—You don't have to be there on the day! Was Eisenhower on Omaha Beach? No. Kim, this is great, right? It's huge!

Kim:
...It is pretty great! [laughs]

Jimmy:
Kim, this is fantastic! [kisses Kim]

[Casper, one of Werner's former workers, spots Lalo approaching his home while chopping wood]

Lalo:
Guten tag!

Casper:
Guten tag. [in German] This is private property. Who are you looking for? Are you lost?

Lalo:
[in English] Yeah, sorry. I don't speak any German!

Casper:
[in English] Are you lost?

Lalo:
It's a beautiful place you have here. The air, it's just so... fresh!

Casper:
...Do I know you?

Lalo:
Well, I don't think we've officially met-

[Casper grabs his axe and runs inside a nearby wooden shed while Lalo draws his gun. Lalo searches when he's suddenly dropped by a blow from Casper]

Casper:
Who are you?! Who are you?!

Lalo:
[strained] Ed-Eduardo... Salamanca! I'm not here for you... This is about Fring. Guh- I want to know... I want to know what he's building.

Casper:
How did you find me?

Lalo:
Ma- Marga... M-Margarethe Z-Ziegler.

Casper:
What have you done to her?!

Lalo:
Nothing, nothing. You sent her a gi- a gift. [pulls out a business card and shows it to Casper]

Casper:
Was ist das?

[Lalo's hidden a razor blade behind the card. He springs up and cuts Casper's face, then grabs his axe and cuts his foot off]

Lalo:
[cheerfully] Carajo! I think you broke one of my ribs! [tosses Casper his belt] Here. Tie that off... before you bleed to death. You and I are gonna have a talk.

[Jimmy has Francesca call HHM and pose as a relative of a Sandpiper resident to get details about the upcoming mediation]

Jimmy:
What is the hold up?

Francesca:
I just... I don't know if I'm comfortable. Is this even legal?

Jimmy:
I'm sorry, which one of us went to law school? Because I can stand here and go through the ins and outs of what's quote-unquote legal with you, but we're on the clock.

Francesca:
I just don't—

Jimmy:
Francesca, let's get something straight, okay? We can't be holding a graduate seminar in constitutional law every time I give you something to do.

Francesca:
But I—I'm not sure if—

Jimmy:
You know what I'm paying you? It is above market. To whom much is given, much is expected! [takes out cell phone and starts dialing a number]

Francesca:
We're not gonna make a habit of this?

Jimmy:
Of course not! Absolutely not. No, no, no. [gives phone to Francesca] Put it on speaker and let me... [moves closer]

HHM Employee #1:
Hamlin Hamlin McGill.

Francesca:
Hi... there. I'm calling because my—my mother is... is—Well, I guess she's a—a client of yours. She lives in, uh, Sandpiper Assisted Living.

HHM Employee #1:
Sandpiper, of course. Let me transfer you.

Jimmy:
[to Francesca while she's on hold] It's just a phone call.

HHM Employee #2:
Good afternoon. Do you have a question about the Sandpiper case?

Francesca:
[waits for Jimmy to nod] Yes. My mother's out of the facility in Amarillo. Says she's supposed to call in to some meeting on Thursday?

HHM Employee #2:
Yes, you're talking about the mediation?

Francesca:
That's it. The thing is, she's lost her dial-in instructions. [sighs nervously] I'm just looking everywhere and can't find them.

HHM Employee #2:
I'd be happy to help you with that. It's very important to us that all the class members are fully looked in. What's your mother's name?

Francesca:
[tells name mouthed by Jimmy] Uh, Marnie Stuber. [watches Jimmy form the letters as she spells aloud] That's–that's S-T-U-B-E-R. [sighs nervously again when Jimmy forces her to smile] Oh, bless your heart. She'll be so relieved!

HHM Employee #2:
Okay, it's very simple. The meeting is happening at our offices. So she just has to call the main line—the same number you called just now—press 7, and then enter the passcode. I can give that to you now. Do you have a pen?

Francesca:
Uh... [Jimmy quickly takes out a pen] Y–yeah, I'm ready.

HHM Employee #2:
Okay. It's 8-4-2-1-5-9. [Jimmy writes the numbers on his hand]

Francesca:
8-4-2-1-5-9?

HHM Employee #2:
That's right.

Francesca:
Okay! Uh, thank you so much. Really appreciate it.

HHM Employee #2:
Of course, take care.

Jimmy:
[hangs up immediately] Was that so hard?

[Jimmy sees the real Rand Casimiro at a liquor store wearing a cast that was not shown in the fake photos he shot earlier. He bolts out of there and gets in his car before being seen by the judge.]

Jimmy:
FUCK! [bangs on steering wheel and chuckles nervously before calling Kim on his cell phone]

[Cut to Kim driving on the highway to Santa Fe.]

Kim:
"Ultimately, it's about equal justice, a system that works for everyone. A justice system that works for everyone, and what is more important than that?" [hears phone ringing and answers it] Hey, Jimmy.

Jimmy:
Flag on the play! You're not gonna believe this, but I just ran into Casimiro—the real one.

Kim:
Oh, God.

Jimmy:
Yeah, and before you ask, he didn't shave his mustache. He broke his arm.

Kim:
Are you serious?

Jimmy:
The guy has a giant cast on his left arm! And I checked all the pictures and you can see his arm in every single one of them! No cast, clear as day!

Kim:
Shit! SHIT!

Jimmy:
I KNOW! I KNOW! Uh... But, hey. Hey, look at it this way: If I hadn't seen him... I mean, that would've really—that really could've sunk us. Right? So, we're gonna pull the plug and we are going to live to fight another day.

Kim:
...What other day?

Jimmy:
Well, we'll figure it out. I promise, okay? So, just go. Just do your thing in Santa Fe, and we'll regroup when you get home tonight. [beat; Kim says nothing] Kim? Kim, you still there?

Kim:
Yes.

Jimmy:
Did you hear what I said?

Kim:
[pause] It happens today.

[Kim quickly turns around and starts driving back to Albuquerque.]

[An intern at HHM, Cary, drops soda cans when he sees Howard setting up the conference room for the Sandpiper mediation]

Cary:
Uh, excuse me, Mr. Hamlin! I-I was told I should restock the fridge before the meeting.

Howard:
No worries. Here, let me give you a hand.

Cary:
Thank you!

Howard:
Uh, you're... Gary?

Cary:
Cary! Anderson.

Howard:
Mm... of course. Cary. [sees Cary stocking the fridge with the dropped cans] Cary, what happens when you drop or shake a can of soda?

Cary:
...Right. [mimes explosion] I'm sorry, I'm, uh...

Howard:
Here, let me show you a little trick. [picks up and spins a soda can] Something about the centrifugal force pulls the bubbles from the inside of the can, stops it from exploding. Don't want our clients to get a surprise now, do we?

Cary:
That works?

[Howard opens the can without incident and takes a sip]

Cary:
Alright!

Howard:
You know who taught me that trick? [points at the picture of Chuck in the conference room] He used to do it. Had a habit - anytime he opened a can, almost unconsciously. I asked him about it once... just his way of being prepared for anything, accidental or otherwise.

Cary:
Um, I'm sorry, I'm... kinda new here. I- I have to ask, who is that?

Howard:
Charles McGill. The "M" in HHM. Greatest legal mind I ever knew.

Cary:
Wow! I hope someone says that about me someday.

Howard:
Well... maybe there are more important things.

[Howard, Cliff, and the rest of the parties in the Sandpiper mediation are in the HHM conference room; Rand Casimiro is seated at the head of the table; Jimmy and Kim listen in on the meeting through a disposable cell phone in the Saul Goodman office]

Rand Casimiro:
Hello. I know we're all anxious to get things started but you'll have to suffer through my traditional spiel, unfortunately. My name is Rand Casimiro, and I am your mediator for these proceedings. Now, I'm happy to be here. But at the end, hopefully all of you in the room and those listening from various locations won't be happy with me. And why do I say that? Because the best solutions mean compromise. It's compromise from both sides. That's my goal. But as my wife always says, compromising doesn't mean I'm right and she's wrong. [chuckles] So, let us move forward—

Howard:
Hmph.

[Everyone in the conference room turns to Howard]

Cliff:
...Howard?

Howard:
I-I'm... Wow. [pause] I'm... I'm sorry. I don't think we can proceed with these negotiations today.

Rich:
Why not?

Howard:
Well, let's just say, circumstances beyond any of our control.

Rich:
Well, I'm going to have to insist that you be more specific.

Howard:
Well, our mediator here keeps using the word "compromise" when he, in fact, is compromised.

Casimiro:
I beg your pardon?

Howard:
I think you heard me.

Cliff:
Howard...?

Howard:
You drive a silver Miata, correct?

Casimiro:
I do.

Howard:
And this morning, around 7 a.m., you walked across Trumbull Park in town?

Casimiro:
No.

Howard:
You didn't stop at the park this morning?

Casimiro:
I didn't. I got to Albuquerque early, not at 7 a.m. And I didn't go to a park.

Howard:
Are you sure?

Cliff:
Howard, if the judge says he's sure, then I–

Casimiro:
Of course I'm sure! If it matters, I arrived in town about 10:00, I stopped at a gas station, I went by a liquor store and bought a gift. I had a lunch salad and a very nice latté from the Flying Star on Menaul. I read Barron's. Then came here.

Howard:
Mmmm. So you weren't in town to visit our mutual acquaintance, James Morgan McGill? Or maybe you know him as "Saul Goodman"?

Casimiro:
I don't know anyone by either of those names.

Howard:
Okay. You want to go that way? [to his secretary] Julie, go to my desk, please. There's an envelope with photos. Bring it to me quickly.

Julie:
Oh. Okay. [leaves]

Cliff:
Howard, can we have a sidebar–?

Casimiro:
I'm sorry. These photos – these are photos of me?

Howard:
They show exactly what I'm describing.

Casimiro:
You were following me?

Howard:
I had a private investigator following Jimmy McGill. You were photographed receiving what I estimate to be a $20,000 payoff this morning in the park.

Rich:
I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry. This is just– [sighs; to Howard] You recommended this judge as a mediator and we agreed. And now... Jimmy? Jimmy McGill – who originated this suit – is what?

Howard:
A-admittedly, it all sounds a bit baroque. But when you see the photos, things will be clearer.

Casimiro:
Well, I'm looking forward to that.

[Julie enters the room with the envelope]

Julie:
I have the pictures, Mr. Hamlin.

Howard:
Thank you, Julie. [opens the envelope] And now, take a look.

[Howard looks at the photos with Cliff, Schweikart, Casimiro, Irene and Julie looking behind him. Instead of an actor dressed as Casimiro as he had seen earlier, the photos show Jimmy sitting at a park bench exchanging a frisbee with the Sound Guy, dressed as a jogger]

Casimiro:
...Is that supposed to be me?

Howard:
I, uh... This is... This is not... Julie, you got the wrong envelope.

Julie:
That was the only one on your desk.

Howard:
Look again!

[Julie leaves]

Howard:
They-they've been switched. Somehow he switched them.

Cliff:
Howard...

Howard:
No. Jimmy – he snuck in somehow, and these are not the pictures I saw.

[Howard turns to Erin, who notices that his pupils are now dilated]

Erin:
Mr. Hamlin, are you all right? Your eyes...

Howard:
[agitated] I am fine! This is all something that will be sorted out, I am confident!

[Cliff rises and guides Howard out of his seat]

Cliff:
I think a recess is in order.

Howard:
Nobody move! Evidence has been tampered with!

Cliff:
Now Howard, please!

[Howard and Cliff leave the conference room. Everyone left behind is stunned silent]

Irene:
...Is this how these usually go?

[Cliff confronts Howard in his office after the fiasco in the conference room]

Howard:
Cliff? Is that you? I'm not crazy, and I'm not on drugs. Please, come in. Now somehow, some way, that son of a bitch gave me something that dilated my pupils. I-I don't know what. But it's wearing off already, look. [gestures toward his eyes]

Cliff:
You say that Jimmy McGill drugged you? How is that possible?

Howard:
The-the photos. They were wet with... something.

Cliff:
The missing photos.

Howard:
Yeah. My P.I., Genidowski, had to have been in on it. He-he must have shown me one set of photos and then switched them after I left the office.

Cliff:
Howard...

Howard:
Three weeks ago, Julie got a call from our detective agency. They wanted to update their contact info, so of course she changed the number in the system. But it turns out, it wasn't them. That was Jimmy. So when I needed an investigator to follow Jimmy, I called his fake number and his fake man. She just dialed the old number and, of course, got the actual agency. And, no surprise, no one by the name of Genidowski had ever worked there. I hired a con man. I got played. Every step of the way. I know what it sounds like, but you have to believe me.

Cliff:
I... It doesn't matter. Rich went back to the previous offer. I'll give a recommend to the class that we take it.

Howard:
No. No way. We do not let Jimmy win this.

Cliff:
Why would Jimmy even do this? He's a profit participant! This means less money for him!

Howard:
Because he's a child! He wants his money now! He begged me months ago to settle! You know what he does!

Cliff:
Whatever the truth is, we'll never get back to where we were before mediation. We have to settle.

Howard:
I'm lead attorney. And I won't sanction that decision.

Cliff:
Then I'm obligated to go to the partners and explain everything I've seen – all of it. You think you're gonna be able to convince them it was all Jimmy McGill?

Howard:
...Okay then. We go to trial. Cliff, this case is incredibly strong. I put this thing in front of a jury, then everything will–

Cliff:
I'm not thinking about you, Howard. I'm not thinking about Jimmy. I'm thinking about the time, the expense, the uncertainty. I'm thinking about our clients!

[Howard bows his head in defeat.]

[Lalo records a video message for Eladio while he's hiding in the sewers surveilling Gus' laundromat. The dialogue switches between Spanish and English.]

Lalo:
Don Eladio. Guess who? It's Lalo, I'm alive! [chuckles] I'm here in beautiful downtown Albuquerque. [pans the camera around his belongings] Been here... four nights? Now, you may be asking, "What am I doing down in this shithole?" Well, a little Croatian bird told me a secret. Eh, he put up a hell of a fight, but he told me. Look. [points the camera at his target, Lavanderia Brilliante] See that? Right there... Fring's secret. Now, I've been watching and Fring hides his guards very well, but they're there, dressed like laundry workers. [zooms in on one "worker"] See? That's one there. They're hiding guns under the uniforms, but I see. I have a pretty good idea of what I'm up against. [points the camera back at himself] I can tell you what's in there. A big hole where a German engineer, Werner Ziegler, designed the perfect place to hide the... [in English] "mother of all meth labs." [in Spanish] Well, that's my story. And Fring? Fring will have his story, a good one, and Bolsa will back him because he's an... [in English] "earner." [in Spanish] So tonight, I go in... kill all the guards and show you the proof. And then? You decide... Adios.

[Jimmy and Kim are watching a movie in Kim's apartment when they hear a knock at the door. It's revealed to be Howard, disheveled and holding a bottle of Macallan scotch whisky.]

Howard:
Can I come in?

Jimmy:
Yeah. Come on.

Howard:
Kim.

Kim:
Howard. You doing okay?

Howard:
I'm fine. Sorry to interrupt this, but I brought you a gift.

Jimmy:
A gift? What's the occasion?

Howard:
Your brother and I, we always had a meeting with Mr. Macallan after a big victory. Usually some brilliant summation by Chuck, that goes without saying. So this, this is for you. You earned it. You won.

Jimmy:
Won? Uh, what did I win?

Howard:
[pause] I get it. Of course you both have to play it this way. You're both so very good at it.

Kim:
It's late, Howard. Do you want to tell us what this is about?

Howard:
I was wondering that too. [walks to the kitchen] What it's all about. I mean, what do you tell yourselves? What justification makes it okay? "Howard's such an asshole that he deserves it?" [offers two glasses to Jimmy and Kim]

Jimmy:
We're good.

Howard:
So, what is it? I sided with Chuck too often? [points to Kim] I took away your office, put you in doc review? All of the above? Howard's daddy helped him get to the top, but you both had to struggle. "Howie has so much and we have so little, let's take him down a peg or two." What allows you to do this to me? Because this isn't just a prank. No. This goes beyond throwing bowling balls on my car. This took planning, coordination. I mean, how many weeks? Or-or-or was it months? It couldn't have been easy. So tell me, why? Why go through this elaborate plot just to burn me to the ground?

Jimmy:
"Burn you to the ground?" Howard, come on. Y-you'll be fine. You always land on your feet.

Howard:
Yeah, sure. The Sandpiper settlement—HHM's share will be substantial, absolutely. Even though I humiliated myself. And my clients and peers will whisper that Howard Hamlin's a drug addict. You're right. I've worked my way through worse. Debt. Depression. My marriage falling apart.

[Jimmy blinks in surprise. He and Kim exchange looks]

Howard:
Oh, yeah. Been sleeping in the guest house for the better part of a year. Just one more thing that good ol' Howard has to work through. But yes, I will land on my feet. I will be okay. But you? Far from it. You two... you two are soulless. Jimmy, you can't help yourself. Chuck knew it. You were born that way. [to Kim] But you—one of the smartest and most promising human beings I've ever known, and this is the life you choose.

Jimmy:
Alright, you're too tight to drive, I'm calling a cab—

Howard:
Oh good, phony compassion. And you know what? Very, very believable. But I'm far from done.

Kim:
Oh no no no. You are done, Howard. Sorry, but you need to stop this now and you need to go home.

Howard:
You're perfect for each other. You have a piece missing. I-I-I thought you did it for the money, but it-it—Now it's so clear. Screw the money, you did it for fun! You get off on it! You're like Leopold and Loeb, two sociopaths—

Jimmy:
Alright, that's enough.

Howard:
Oh, you know it's true, you just don't have the guts to admit it.

Kim:
Great. Now you need to go.

Howard:
I'm gonna make it clear to everyone, because I'm going to dedicate my life to making sure that everybody knows the truth. Believe it. You can't hide who you really are forever.

[Jimmy reflexively shields Kim as Lalo Salamanca enters the room; Jimmy is stunned]

Jimmy:
How...

[Howard turns around and see Lalo, who non-chalantly stands next to him]

Kim:
H-Howard... Howard. Howard, you need to leave.

Howard:
[to Lalo] Who are you?

Lalo:
Me? Nobody. I just need to talk to my lawyers.

Howard:
[scoffs] Oh, is that right? You want some advice? Find better lawyers.

Kim:
Howard, please j-just... just... just turn around—

Lalo:
No, no, no, no, no. Take your time.

Howard:
[to Kim] What's this about?

[Lalo calmly takes a pistol out of his pocket and screws a silencer onto the muzzle]

Kim:
[to Lalo] Please... please, just tell us what you want.

Lalo:
[shrugs] Like I said. To talk.

Howard:
I, uh... I think I'm in the middle of something, uh... There's really no need to—

[Lalo puts the gun to Howard's head and pulls the trigger; Howard falls onto the floor, killed instantly. Jimmy and Kim scream.]

Kim:
Oh my God!

Jimmy:
Please, no!

Kim:
Oh my God!

Jimmy:
No! No!

Lalo:
[holds out his hand to quiet them down] Shhhh, shhhh, shhhh, shhhh, shhhh. Okay. Let's talk.

[Jimmy and Kim are cowering in terror when Lalo forces them to sit on their couch]

Jimmy:
I never turned on you. I didn't. I only worked for you in the desert. I was on your side the whole time.

Lalo:
Shhh. [motions for Jimmy to sit down with his gun] I don't care. You two... [chuckles; shakes his head] God, you two and your mouths! Dios mío! Now, you listen. [tosses car keys to Jimmy] My car's downstairs. Press the clicker, and you'll find it. This... [holds up small piece of paper] is where you are going. Don't speed, don't weave, don't cut anyone off. Just, you know, drive nice. From here, [checks watch] at this hour... I'd take 40 east, get off at Carlisle, take the third left. The rest I drew a little map for you on the back. It's not hard. So... big white brick house with a solid black door. You can't miss it. It's right at the end of the T. Park a little down the street and not up front. It's a quiet neighborhood, so you'll have plenty of options. Stating the obvious here maybe, but... turn the car off, right? So, in the glove compartment, I left you a present. There's a camera and there's a gun. And you're gonna need both.

Jimmy:
A gun?

Lalo:
Yeah, yeah, yeah. But don't worry. I mean, it's–it's easy. It's a revolver. It's already loaded, no safety—it's idiot proof. So, you go up to that house, you walk right up to that black door. Don't run. Just be casual like a stroll, you know? Keep the gun somewhere behind you where they can't see it. You ring the bell, you count to three, you step back. They look through the peephole, you're as innocent as can be. Door opens, you point... and you shoot. And you keep on pulling that trigger until it's empty. [pause] Simple.

Jimmy:
You–you want me to—?!

Lalo:
I know, I know. [casually nudges Howard's dead body with his foot] You're a lawyer, and you're not a killer. But look, you can do this, okay? This guy, he's a housecat! Black, medium height, short hair, glasses! He kinda looks like a librarian... but don't be fooled. Even a housecat can scratch. So, that's it. Hard part's over. Now, you pull out the camera. Same principle as the gun: Point and shoot. Take a picture. One where I can see the face clearly... and then you bring it back here where, me and Mrs. Goodman will be waiting for you. And then you're done! I'd say it's about a twenty minute drive over there... [Jimmy looks nervously at Kim] twenty minutes back. Maybe ten minutes to do the job. Let's go with an hour altogether. So, you're back here in an hour, or—

[Jimmy forcibly turns on the Saul Goodman charm]

Jimmy:
Send her.

Kim:
...What?!

Jimmy:
She should do it.

Kim:
Jimmy...

Lalo:
[pause] Why her?

Kim:
[whispers to Jimmy] Don't do this.

Jimmy:
This guy, the–the housecat.

Kim:
Jimmy, please.

Jimmy:
He looks through his peephole...

Kim:
Please.

Jimmy:
...in the middle of the night, and he sees me? "Who's this asshole? What's he doing?" Maybe–maybe he gets his gun, maybe he calls the cops. Either way, that door stays shut. But he sees a woman...

Kim:
No.

Jimmy:
...she looks like she's in distress. Maybe her car broke down. [chuckles] I mean, you'd open the door for her, wouldn't you?

Kim:
Stop! Stop!

Lalo:
Yeah, but... she's really clever. I don't know if she's gonna stick to the plan.

Jimmy:
She will.

Kim:
No, no, no.

Jimmy:
No cops. You know she will.

Kim:
No. No, this... This doesn't even make any sense! I—I–I've never shot a gun before! I've never even held one!

Jimmy:
Like I have.

Kim:
Jimmy, what are you doing?!

Jimmy:
[to Lalo while pointing at Kim] You know she's the best choice.

Kim:
No, I'm not! I don't—I can't! I can't do it!

Jimmy:
[to Lalo] She can do it. You know she can do it!

Kim:
No! Jimmy, I'll stay! Stop! Just stop!

Jimmy:
You know I'm right! Listen!

Kim:
Stop it! Shut up!

Jimmy:
Listen!

Kim:
SHUT UP!

Lalo:
[rolls his eyes] Oh, my God! Okay, fine! Yeah, her! Whatever. Give her the keys, give her the address, let's go. [walks toward the front door]

Kim:
[to Jimmy] No. Don't... Don't.

Jimmy:
You... you gotta go.

Kim:
[softly] Don't do this.

Jimmy:
Come on. Hey... [whispering] Let's go.

[Kim reluctantly gets up and is about to leave the apartment when Lalo stops her]

Lalo:
Hold on. [pause; Kim looks at him] You're gonna need your shoes, right?

[Kim stares at Jimmy while she puts her shoes on]

Lalo:
There you go! Okay, [looks at watch] so one hour starting... now. Clock's ticking, Mrs. Goodman.

[Lalo ties Jimmy to a chair while interrogating him about the assassination attempt at his hacienda]

Lalo:
You know, after I saw you last, I went home. My home. Mi cielito lindo... And you know what happened? Men came. Armed men, in the middle of the night. To my home. Trying to get to me. And you know what they did? They killed people I care about. They killed my cook. My gardener. A seventeen-year-old kid I knew since he was knee-high, never hurt a fly. Butchered my housekeeper, Yolanda. Una viejita, cabrón. They shot her in the back.

Jimmy:
...I'm sorry.

Lalo:
Now, how did these men... get into my home? Do you know?

Jimmy:
I... I have–I have no idea.

Lalo:
Ignacio Varga. He let them in. And who did Ignacio introduce me to? [taps Jimmy's head] You.

Jimmy:
Ignacio... Nacho? [brief pause] Whoa, whoa, whoa! I–I barely know Ignacio! Whatever he did, he did alone! Not with me! Listen, you gotta believe me! Hand to God, I had no part in this—it wasn't me! It was Igna—

[Lalo sneaks up from behind and gags Jimmy with a rolled-up shirt]

Jimmy:
[through the gag] Ignacio! It's not me! Listen, listen! I–I don't know about...

Lalo:
Save it. [looks Jimmy in the eyes] I'm gonna come back. And then you... are gonna tell me the whole story.

[Lalo presses play on the movie Jimmy and Kim were watching earlier and turns up the volume. He picks up Jimmy's car keys by the front door.]

Lalo:
Ford Taurus... taupe? [rolls eyes and shakes his head before leaving the apartment]

[Mike disarms Kim and forces her inside Gus' house before she can shoot. Gus watches Mike question her through surveillance monitors at his neighbors' residence.]

Kim:
What are you doing?! I–I have to go! I have to—No, wait!

Mike:
Ms. Wexler, I'd like you to sit down.

Kim:
He'll–He'll kill him! You have to... You—

Mike:
Now, sit there and be calm!

Kim:
No, I have to get back! I have to get back!

Mike:
[restrains Kim and forces her back down] Sit still... and stay calm. Now, if you take a deep breath—a deep breath—nothing's gonna happen here until you calm yourself. Alright? Now, who is killing who?

Kim:
Lalo Salamanca! Lalo is going to kill Jimmy! [Mike looks shocked] He's there! He–he is there with Jimmy now!

Mike:
Salamanca is at your apartment?!

Kim:
Yes! He sent me! He–he wanted to send Jimmy, but then he sent me.

Mike:
To do what exactly?! [pause; Kim hyperventilates] Ms. Wexler, you stay with me! What were you supposed to do here?

Kim:
[beat; points at a man who looks identical to Gus] Shoot him. I'm–I'm supposed to shoot him, and then take a photo, and then get back. That's it. I only have twenty minutes left! Please! [Mike quickly looks and nods at one of his guys] He is alone with him!

Mike:
Alright, stay put. We'll handle this. We will handle this. [to Victor] You call Tyrus. Get him to the condo now.

Kim:
You said you were watching us! WHERE WERE YOU?! HUH?! [Mike leaves] WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?!

[Kim tries to get up, but Victor stands in her way and forces her to sit down again]

Victor:
You heard what the man said.

[Mike walks through the corridor connecting the two homes and reports to Gus.]

Mike:
You heard all that? [Gus nods] Alright. You hunker down here. [to two bodyguards] You two, you stay with him. A dog barks too loud, you are on the phone with me. [to Arthur and Tyrus] You two, come with me.

[After growing restless over Lalo's whereabouts, Gus calls Victor and asks him to speak to Kim about Lalo]

Gus:
Why did Lalo send you?

Kim:
Who is this?

Victor:
Answer him. [points behind him]

Kim:
[pause] He didn't want to send me. Not at first. He wanted to send my husband... but my husband talked him out of it because he wanted to get me out of there.

Gus:
He... talked Lalo out of it?

Kim:
That's right. [pause] Now that I've told you everything I know, please tell me. Tell me who—

[Gus hangs up the phone and looks at his bodyguards]

Gus:
Come with me. Both of you.

[Lalo records another video message for Don Eladio while holding Gus at gunpoint at the laundromat. The dialogue is in Spanish.]

Lalo:
Don Eladio, look who we have here. The one and only Gustavo Fring. [chuckles] And wearing body armor! Too bad they don't make armor for your head, eh? Now we're gonna take a little walk and show you around. Vamanos. [clicks tongue] Don, I would've liked it if we didn't have to rush this so much. We could sit by your pool... strip this snake's skin off, inch by inch. Take our time, have some fun. But he shows up now... who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth?

[Gus stops in front of a large washing machine.]

Lalo:
A big machine hides a big secret. We have about... thirteen minutes until his bald gringo gets here with the cavalry, so Gustavo is going to have to give us the nickel tour. [beat; shoots Gus in the chest] Like I was saying, Gustavo is going to show us around.

[Gus walks around and pushes a button, which opens the secret passage to the underground meth lab]

Lalo:
Ha! Magnificent! I had a bathtub that did this, but... credit where credit is due, this is better. [laughs] Hijo de puta.

[Gus leads Lalo down a ladder and turns on the lights]

Lalo:
[chuckles; in English] Okay. Drumroll, please. D-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r... Ta-da! [laughs] Cadenza de wow, no? [in Spanish] Don Eladio, I've heard some stories about this place. It took a bunch of German engineers ten months to build all of this. They used two hundred pounds of high explosive. Dug out 120,000 cubic meters of dirt and rock. And all... without disturbing the laundry up there. In the middle of a city with a million people! That's pretty badass, right?

[Gus trips and falls to the ground when Lalo pushes his pistol against his back]

Lalo:
One moment, Don. [puts the camcorder between his teeth as he switches the magazines of his pistol] Think of the laboratory you could put here, Don Eladio. Eh? How much meth you could make... that was his plan. Cut you out to become boss. And now here we are, in this big hole! [cackles] Gustavo thought he was building an empire, but all he built himself was a tomb.

Gus:
You can't kill me.

Lalo:
Why not?

Gus:
I haven't told that fat pig Eladio what I think of him yet.

Lalo:
Hoo-hoo! Perfect! You've got one minute.

Gus:
Eladio... you greasy, bloated pimp. You talk of honor. But you have none. A pack of stray dogs fighting for scraps has more honor. Jackals. That's all you are! No vision. No patience. No thought. Stupid and impulsive! That is how I did all this. You couldn't see it, couldn't even conceive of it. And you Salamancas... you're the worst vermin of all. You say you believe in "blood for blood" but you only understand blood for money! You're whores! [in English] I understand blood for blood. Hector? Yeah, I kept him alive. Kept him broken. I will save him to the last. Before he dies, he will know... I buried every one of you.

Lalo:
[sniggers] Big talk. You done?

Gus:
No. Not yet.

Jimmy:
Lalo said he was coming back.

Mike:
He's not coming.

Jimmy:
No, he said he was, he told me—

Mike:
You understand me? He is not coming back. Let's sit. [pause; Jimmy and Kim remain standing] SIT.

[Jimmy and Kim sit at the foot of their bed; Mike stands in front of them.]

Mike:
Alright. Here's what's gonna happen: In a few days, Howard Hamlin's car will be found several states away by the water. The odometer will have rolled to the exact number of miles it took to get there. There will be cocaine in the upholstery. That was the story you were setting up for this guy, yeah? They'll call it a suicide, hoping the body will come washing up. It never will. At some point, you're gonna hear about it. Someone calls you, someone at the courthouse mentions it—the moment that happens—you call the cops. His car was here for hours last night. Good chance somebody noticed it. That means you are the last people to see him alive. Cops are gonna want to hear from you. You tell the cops you saw him—he came here, seemed like maybe he was chemically altered, didn't make a lick of sense. Then he left, that's all you know. You keep telling the lie you've been telling. [to Jimmy] Now, Ms. Wexler tells me she has court at ten. What's on your docket? [Jimmy doesn't answer] Hey. Listen. Where do you need to be?

Jimmy:
Uh, office. At my office. Clients start showing up around 9:30. Oh, my car is gone.

Mike:
No. It's on the way home, you'll have it when you need it. So you two are going to go about your day—normal, same as ever. Today, you're Meryl Streep and Laurence Olivier. No staring into space, nothing out of the ordinary, you cover. Anybody talks to you, it's just another day that ends in Y, that's all. When you get home, we'll be gone and everything will be back the way it was. Now, I need to impress upon you: none of this ever happened. None of it. Understand? Say it out loud, I need to hear it.

Jimmy:
...I understand.

Kim:
...It never happened.

Jimmy:
One day, we'll... We'll wake up, and brush our teeth, and we'll go to work. And at some point, we'll suddenly realize... that we hadn't thought about it at all. None of it. [pause] And that's when we'll know. We'll know we can forget.

[Gus meets with Don Eladio, Juan Bolsa, and the Salamancas late at night. The dialogue is in Spanish.]

Eladio:
Don Hector has made a very serious accusation.

[One of the Cousins hands a letter to Don Juan]

Bolsa:
These are Don Hector's words, dictated to Leonel and Marco, letter by letter. "The assault on my nephew's hacienda failed. Lalo fought the assassins and won. The day after the attack, Lalo called me. I heard the truth from his own lips. It was Fring who sent the mercenaries, not the Peruvians. We kept Lalo's survival a secret. My nephew was about to take his revenge on the traitor, face-to-face. Instead, he disappeared. It is the chicken man's doing. Don Eladio, look into Fring's eyes. There you will see the truth. The chicken man hates you. He is our enemy. He plots against us. I demand blood for blood."

[Bolsa folds the letter and sits back down]

Eladio:
Well, Gustavo?

Gus:
[pause] I have no response.

Bolsa:
Gustavo, you must speak. Have you no defense?

Gus:
With all due respect, I don't believe this merits a response.

Eladio:
[to the Cousins] Did you witness these phone calls from Lalo? [Leonel and Marco shake their heads] I was told you saw Lalo's body.

Leonel:
Yes.

Marco:
It was burned.

Eladio:
[to Bolsa] Didn't the federales check the teeth?

Bolsa:
Yes, Don Eladio. My brother tells me the dental records matched.

Eladio:
And that rat, Varga... What did he say before he died?

Bolsa:
He said he was in the pay of the Peruvians, Los Odios. We know he took their money, we found bank statements.

Eladio:
[beat; looks at his watch] Well... It's late. Don Hector... Since you've come a long way, tonight you sleep in my bed. [Hector angrily rings his bell repeatedly in protest] No, I insist. No arguing. I'm giving you my room. Very comfortable. And who knows? Maybe a couple of the girls will come to visit! [pause; Hector continues ringing his bell] Please. [Leonel and Marco carry Hector by his wheelchair and leave] Good night, Hector. Sleep well. [to Gus] I'd invite you to stay as well, Gustavo, but... I don't want my breakfast ruined by all the... [mocks Hector ringing his bell and laughs] Ay-yay-yay. [beat] The peace must be kept. What do you suggest?

Gus:
I wouldn't presume.

Eladio:
The South Valley will stay Salamanca territory. And the rest of the North, that'll be for you to manage. Working under Bolsa.

Bolsa:
Thank you, Don Eladio.

Gus:
[rises with Eladio out of his chair] Thank you. Your trust means everything, Don Eladio.

Eladio:
Bueno. Gustavo... [long pause] When I looked into your eyes... Hate. A little bit's okay. As long as you never forget who's boss.

[Mike meets with Nacho's father outside his shop to let him know about Nacho's fate]

Manuel:
Who are you?

Mike:
It's not important.

Manuel:
I saw you here before. Chrysler Fifth Avenue. What about my son?

Mike:
I'm sorry, he won't be found. [pause] It was over fast. No pain.

Manuel:
You were there?

Mike:
I was there. Your son made some mistakes, he fell in with bad people... but he was never like them. Not really. He had a good heart. One more thing: you won't have to worry about the Salamancas. Their day is coming. There'll be justice.

Manuel:
Justice?

Mike:
I'm sorry, my Spanish... j-justicia. Justice.

Manuel:
[sighs] What you talk about... is not justice. What you talk of is... revenge. It never ends... my boy is gone. [scoffs; in Spanish] You gangsters and your "justice." You're all the same.

[Jimmy and Kim approach Cliff and Howard's widow, Cheryl, at a memorial reception in the offices of HHM.]

Kim:
Cliff.

Cliff:
Kim, Jimmy.

Cheryl:
Kim, hi.

[Jimmy extends his hand to Cheryl, but she doesn't take it]

Jimmy:
Hi, Cheryl. I'm Jimmy McGill. You may not remember me. I'm Chuck McGill's brother.

Cheryl:
Of course.

Jimmy:
Very sorry for your loss. [sighs]

Kim:
Cheryl, I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine what you must be going through. If Jimmy and I can do anything for you or your family, please just say the word.

[Jimmy and Kim are about to walk away]

Cheryl:
There is something, actually. You two were the last ones to see him, weren't you?

Kim:
Um...

Jimmy:
I guess so. Uh, that's what the police said.

Cheryl:
Howard told me that you were harassing him, playing elaborate pranks of some sort. That you wouldn't leave him alone.

Jimmy:
I know he thought that. He—he—he told me as well. Um, I think he honestly believed it.

Cheryl:
But you're denying it.

Jimmy:
[pause] You know what, I didn't leave here under the best terms. The past few years, I could have been more considerate to Howard instead of yitzing him every chance I got. I guess, uh, there was a certain amount of jealousy on my part because Howard had the, uh, respect of my brother. Which I never did. [Jimmy steps away]

Cheryl:
Tell me what you told the police.

Jimmy:
[pause] Okay, um... Well, I mean, it was 11 p.m. Howard started pounding on our door. He was very upset, going on about something, um, he thought was my fault, uh... Guess it had to do with the Sandpiper case. But I—I couldn't make head or tail out of it. We tried to calm him down. But... he just—he just wouldn't, um... Finally, he left. That's—that's it.

Cheryl:
I'm not oblivious. I know people are saying he was on drugs. Is that what you're trying to tell me?

Jimmy:
I just... He just didn't seem like himself.

Cheryl:
[to Cliff] Are you hearing all of this? Because none of it makes sense to me.

Cliff:
Cheryl, maybe we should just—

Cheryl:
I don't care what people are saying. I don't care what the police think. Howard was not on drugs. That simply is not true. There's something more to this.

Kim:
I don't know if it's my place, but... I—I...

Cheryl:
Please. Just spit it out. [sharply inhales]

Kim:
[sighs] It was about a year-and-a-half ago. I was still an associate here, working late on a brief. And I saw a light on in Howard's office. I assumed the cleaning crew left it on by mistake. And I was sure that office was empty, so I didn't knock.

Cheryl:
...And?

Kim:
And Howard was there at his desk, head down. And he was snorting something. [Cheryl scoffs] I looked at him. He looked at me. I didn't know what to do, so I just walked out. And the next morning, when we saw each other, neither of us ever said anything about it. I never told anyone. But now I wish I had.

Cheryl:
[long pause; to Cliff] In all the years that you worked with him, have you witnessed anything like this? Even a hint? Cliff...

Cliff:
I... Cheryl, this really isn't the time or the place.

[Cheryl begins to cry]

Kim:
Cheryl. You were his wife. You saw him every day. You knew him better than anyone. Maybe I misunderstood what I saw. You would have known.

Cheryl:
[voice breaking] Please excuse me.

[Cheryl retreats into a women's restroom]

[Kim and her client are sitting in a courtroom as the presiding judge, Gabriel Dearden, takes the bench]

Bailiff:
All rise. Court is now in session, the Honorable Judge Dearden presiding.

Judge Dearden:
Good afternoon. We are here to discuss a motion to exclude evidence in State of New Mexico vs. Yarborough.

Kim:
[rises] Your Honor, if I may. I submitted an additional motion. I'm assuming you have not seen it yet.

Judge Dearden:
Did we get that?

Secretary:
It just came in, judge.

[The secretary approaches the bench and hands the motion to Judge Dearden]

Kim:
I apologize, it was a last-minute addition.

Judge Dearden:
"Last minute" is right. [pause; looks through the motion] Do I understand this correctly? You're requesting to withdraw from this case?

Kim:
Yes, Your Honor. My client is fully informed. And I've already been in touch with another attorney, Paige Novick. She's highly qualified and familiar with the case. She's prepared to step if you'll allow it.

Judge Dearden:
Ms. Wexler, Mr. Orenstein, approach the bench.

[Kim and the prosecutor do so]

Judge Dearden:
[to Kim] Ms. Wexler, we are here today at your insistence to consider your motion to exclude evidence. And this is the moment you choose to withdraw?

Kim:
It was unavoidable.

Judge Dearden:
May I ask why?

Kim:
Personal reasons, Your Honor.

Judge Dearden:
"Personal reasons." Are we talking about a health issue, something to do with a loved one?

Kim:
No.

Judge Dearden:
Would you rather discuss privately in chambers?

Kim:
Thank you for the consideration, but no.

Judge Dearden:
Would you care to supply any detail at all?

Kim:
Your Honor, I prefer not to.

Judge Dearden:
[pause; to Orenstein] ...Mr. Orenstein, is the state prepared to discuss Ms. Wexler's motion?

Orenstein:
We are, Your Honor. Absolutely.

Judge Dearden:
You know what, Ms. Wexler? Mr. Orenstein's here. I'm here. We all showed up for your party, and now you're taking away the punch bowl. I'm inclined to have you argue your motion, then I'll consider later writing petitions.

Kim:
I'm sorry for wasting the court's time, Your Honor, but it's impossible for me to continue with this hearing.

Judge Dearden:
And why is that, Ms. Wexler?

Kim:
Because I'm no longer an attorney.

Judge Dearden:
[brief pause] I'm sorry, what?

Kim:
I gave notice to the bar two hours ago.

[Jimmy arrives home after hearing the news that Kim has quit her legal career]

Jimmy:
You did what?! WHY?! WHY?! Alright, alright, I know why. But Kim, you can't just—

Kim:
Jimmy, I—

Jimmy:
Shhh! Just let me say my piece, okay? Just—Let's take a breath here! Kim, after everything that happened... I mean, Jesus! I get it! You want to climb out of your own skin! That's natural! But Kim, you don't just throw everything away! Th-th-this is your life! You're a lawyer! What about your clients, huh? What about, uh... that poor guy, Mr. Yarborough? What about the kid in foster care? Huh?! You give them everything you got! Who are they going to find who is half as good as you?! No one! They need you!

Kim:
It's already done.

Jimmy:
Ugh! [pause] Okay, what's done can be undone. All I'm saying is just—just let's take a week or two to think it over. For now, we're gonna take some time off. God knows we need it. We're gonna to find a new place, we're—we're gonna leave here. We're never, ever gonna come back here again. Okay? We're gonna—we're gonna put it behind us! Things will look brighter! I guarantee it! But first we have to fix this. So we're gonna go back to the hotel room, and you're gonna write letters. You're gonna write a letter to the bar, you're gonna write letters to your clients. You—you—you dictate, I will type. We're gonna roll this thing back. I'll order a pizza, we'll pull an all-nighter. Because we're in this together. Okay? So I'm gonna go get your—your printer, and then we're gonna get the hell out of here.

[Jimmy turns to head into the bedroom]

Kim:
Wait—Jimmy. Jimmy!

[Jimmy enters the bedroom to discover half-full boxes and luggage everywhere]

Kim:
You asked if you were bad for me. That's not it. We are bad for each other.

Jimmy:
Kim... Don't do this. Kim, please.

Kim:
Jimmy... [holding back tears] I have had the time of my life with you. But we are bad for everyone around us. Other people suffer because of us. Apart we're okay, but together we're poison.

Jimmy:
[shakes his head] No, no. Just tell me what I need to do to change, okay? Just tell me what it is, and I'll do it.

Kim:
Jimmy...

Jimmy:
No, Kim. You make me happy. We make each other happy. How can that be bad? Hey... I love you.

Kim:
I love you, too. [voice breaking] But so what?

Jimmy:
No. No. No, Kim, you're wrong! This is about Howard! Okay?! What happened to him wasn't on us! It wasn't your fault! It wasn't my fault! It was that fucking Lalo Salamanca! That psychopath came back from the dead and he walked through that door! He did this! Not us, him!

Kim:
I knew.

Jimmy:
You knew wh-what?

Kim:
I knew he was alive.

Jimmy:
No, you didn't.

Kim:
It was about a month ago. I saw that car following me again. And it turned out that Mike Ehrmantraut had guys watching both of us, watching for Lalo.

Jimmy:
Mike... Mike told you that Lalo was alive? [Kim nods] And you didn't tell me?

Kim:
[pause] Jimmy... I thought... I thought it was a one-in-a-million chance that he'd come for us. I thought he would be caught if he did. And I told myself I was protecting you. But that's not the truth. The reason I didn't tell you was because I knew what you'd do.

Jimmy:
Wh-what would I do?

Kim:
You'd—you'd blame yourself. You'd fear for me. You'd want us to run and hide until you were sure I was safe. You would pull the plug on the scam, and then... [pause] and then, we'd break up. And I didn't want that. Because I was having too much fun!

[Kim breaks down crying and returns to the bedroom to pack; Jimmy stands in the living room in silence]

Saul:
Alright. Let justice be done, though the heavens fall.

[Saul, now going by Gene Takavic, is confronted by Jeff after he unexpectedly shows up at his home]

Jeff:
Dude, what the fuck?!

Saul:
I know, it's awkward, right? But you don't have to call me Dad. Yet.

Jeff:
I don't know what this is about, but all I have to do is pick up the phone and it's "Bye-bye, Saul Goodman."

Saul:
Yeah, but you haven't picked up the phone yet, have ya? Or tried to strong-arm me for cash. And guess what? I know why. Because reward money—blackmail—that's not gonna tickle your pickle. I know what you really want.

Jeff:
Oh, yeah? What's that?

Saul:
You want in the game.

Jeff:
The game? What—what game?

Saul:
The game. The one you've been watching your entire life. You got your nose pressed up against the glass, peering in while the big boys play.

Jeff:
Speak English, man. What the hell are you talking about?

Saul:
The game. It's right there. You can see it, but you can't touch it yet. [pause] Cars, clothes. The cash, the ladies. It's about knowing all the angles, you know? Putting it all on the line and winning big. But here you are, Jeffy. Standing outside with the suckers, trying to pay off that cab, sweating the bills. You're getting older. It's—it's so close, but dammit you just can't get in! Until now. I can make it happen.

Jeff:
[beat] You?

Saul:
Saul Goodman. [pause] So, here's the deal. I will show you the game, and then we're done.

[Jeff stares at Saul for another moment before smiling]

[Jeff runs around a maze in the outline of a mall. Saul, on a loudspeaker, shouts directions to him.]

Saul:
Go, go, go, go, go, go, go! One, Armani suits and run! Two, Air Jordan shoes for you! Three, linen shirts for free! Four, cashmere sweaters out the door! Five, Patagonias to survive! Six, swanky sweatsuits in the mix! HALT!

[Jeff stops, breathing heavily.]

Jeff:
What?!

Saul:
That's too many, you gotta be precise! Just three of each.

Jeff:
Why? And why do I gotta run around like an asshole?

Saul:
I already told you! Three minutes, got it? That's our window!

Jeff:
Yeah, but why three minutes?

Saul:
Because at three minutes, that's when security sees you on the cameras and the cops haul your ass to jail, alright? So let's go.

Jeff:
Wait, there's cameras?

Saul:
Sure there's cameras! They erase the tapes every seventy-two hours, so that's why you only take three of each, and only the pricey stuff. When the store opens the next morning, they won't even know they were robbed. By the time they do inventory, abra cadabra, no more Jeffy on the tape! Right, so, three items, three minutes... It's easy. Let's go.

[Jeff walks back to the start of the maze.]

Saul:
How many of each?

Jeff:
Three...

Saul:
Pigs get fat, hogs get slaughtered!

Jeff:
I don't know...

Saul:
What don't you know?

Jeff:
Just, this whole thing, it seems crazy!

Saul:
Is this too hot for you?! Ju— You know what, just say so! You know what? Screw it. "Crazy?" I'll tell you what's crazy! Fifty-year-old high school chemistry teacher comes into my office. The guy is so broke, he can't pay his own mortgage. One year later, he's got a pile of cash as big as a Volkswagen. That's crazy.

Buddy:
I'll do it.

Jeff:
This sounds good to you?

Buddy:
I think it'll work.

Saul:
Well, look at you! Hey, you're young. You're probably, uh... Fast in the feet, huh?

Jeff:
Okay, I- I didn't say I wouldn't do it! I just... Had some questions about, like... Logistics.

Saul:
Are you in or out?

Jeff:
In.

Saul:
[sighs] Okay, back to one. [He speaks into the loudspeaker as Jeff sets himself up.] Check, test, one-two, one-two. Okay! And ready, set, action!

[Jeff begins running.]

Saul:
Move, move, move! Pick up the pace! Go, go, go! One, Armani suits and run! Two, Air Jordan shoes for you! Three, linen shirts for free! Four, cashmere sweaters out the door! Five, Patagonias to survive! Six, swanky sweatsuits in the mix! Let's go, let's go, let's go!

[On the night of the robbery, Saul watches Jeff through the mall cameras while one of the security guards, Frank, is eating a Cinnabon roll with his back facing the cameras.]

Saul:
How about that 44-21 win against the Cavs?

Frank:
Be still my heart. [laughs]

Saul:
Seventy-six yard pass to Reggie Ball, and–and never sacked once.

Frank:
Wow, you have got quite the memory.

Saul:
...Yeah, well—I'll tell you what. I can remember every stitch of clothing I was wearing during that game, but ask me what I had for dinner and... [whistles] Clean slate.

Frank:
Tell me about it! [Saul checks his stopwatch, which is at two minutes and fifteen seconds] Well, I'll tell ya: If you're not passing the ball, that's what's gonna happen. [eats another bite] Mmm!

[Eventually, Jeff runs with the last round of clothes when he slips and falls. Saul chokes on his coffee.]

Frank:
You okay?

Saul:
[coughs] Wrong pipe.

Frank:
Oh, okay. So, you think our guys are gonna move to the Big Ten like they're sayin'?

Saul:
[pause] Big Ten?

Frank:
Yeah, you know, maybe they're just chasing the almighty dollar if you ask me. I mean, both powerhouses of course. But, you know what? You got Oklahoma and Texas over here. But Michigan, Ohio State over there! [Saul looks nervously at the cameras] I... I don't know. Guess I like tradition. [chuckles; sighs as he takes yet another bite] So good. Just amazing. Wow.

[After Saul realizes Jeff is out cold, he fakes a nervous breakdown to distract Frank]

Saul:
God, what am I doing?

Frank:
What?

Saul:
[cries out again as Frank turns his head towards the cameras] Look at me! Wha—I don't know what... [sobs] Oh, Jesus!

Frank:
Gene?

Saul:
Oh, God. You... you have a wife, right, Frank?

Frank:
Yeah.

Saul:
Yeah?

Frank:
Yeah.

Saul:
She's waiting for you? [Frank nods] Look at me. I got... I got no one. My parents are dead. My brother... [beat; looks down] My brother is dead. I, uh... I don't have a wife. No kids, no friends. If I die tonight, no one would care. What difference would it make?

[Saul looks up again and notices Jeff slowly getting himself up]

Frank:
Gene, buddy... I—I'm sure you mean a lot to... to a lot of—lots of people. [turns his head around again]

Saul:
[slams fist on table] If I die tonight, my landlord would pack up my stuff. It'd take him three hours. And Cinnabon would just hire a new manager. Gene who?! Poof, I'd be gone! I'd be... a–a ghost. Less than a ghost. I'd be a... a shadow. I'd just mean nothing. I mean, Frank... What's the point, Frank? What's the...

[Saul sees Jeff put away the clothes in the box. He groans as he watches Jeff run out of the warehouse, then claps when he's out of sight]

Saul:
[sighs] I'm sorry. You didn't need to hear that.

Frank:
No, no, no. That's–that's okay. No, that is okay. Everybody has bad days.

Saul:
You've felt like this?

Frank:
...No. I mean, not me, but... people. I think a lot of people.

Saul:
You guys enjoying yourselves? Well, hold on to that feeling, 'cause this is it.

Jeff:
Yeah, we know.

Saul:
Well, in case you forget, you transported stolen goods with a value exceeding $5,000. And the truck you used to do it was rented in Council Bluffs across state lines.

Jeff:
You told us to rent the truck over there, so—

Saul:
[motions for Jeff to stop talking] Theft from an interstate shipment, up to ten years. Transportation of stolen goods, another ten years. Sale of stolen goods, ten years. Conspiracy to commit a federal crime—

Buddy:
Whoa, hold on. Conspiracy? It was your idea.

Saul:
Yeah. It's called mutually assured destruction, so... if I go down, you go down.

Jeff:
Man, you don't have to threaten us. We're all friends here.

Saul:
I am not your friend. And if you get greedy, and you decide to come back for more, don't. Gene Takavic, you've never heard of him. Cottonwood Mall, you don't go there. You see me comin', you cross to the other side of the street.

Jeff:
Dude.

Saul:
Now, I need you to say it. We're done.

Jeff:
[pause; laughs] Come on!

Saul:
Say it. We're done. Say it.

Jeff:
[beat; looks at Buddy briefly] We're done.

Buddy:
[pause] We're–we're done.

[Saul, with his limbs duct-taped and a bag over his head, lies on the floor of an RV.]

Saul:
Guys, c'mon. Talk to me! Habla, por favor! Yo soy abogado! Abogado, abogado! Aw, crap! You already knew that! Jesus, fellas, there's a better way to do this! Hello? Oh, why—?! Wha—Why are we going off-road? Oh! Whoa! Whatever this is, can we please don't do it in the desert? Anywhere but the desert! Oh—Oh, God, I'm gonna be sick...

[The RV stops and two masked men walk up, cutting the tape at Saul's legs and forcing him upright.]

Saul:
Alright, fellas... This—We can–we can fix this! Whatever the problemo, we can fix it with dinero. Mucho dinero! Mucho, mucho, mucho dinero! C'mon, please, one of you just, just–You talk, habla! C'mon, b-before mistakes are made! C'mon, talk to me, guys, huh?

[The RV door closes to reveal five bullet holes covered with duct tape.]

Saul:
C'mon, just tell me what you want! Jeez...

[The bag is taken off Saul's head to reveal an open grave in the middle of the desert]

Saul:
Oh! Oh, no, no, no, no, no! No! It wasn't me! It was Ignacio, he's the one!

[Francesca answers a payphone at an abandoned convenience store outside of Albuquerque. On the other end of the line is Saul, calling from a phone booth outside a diner in rural Nebraska under his Gene Takavic alias.]

Francesca:
Yeah.

Saul:
Oh, good. You're there. Great. Great. Unencumbered by curious eyes and ears, I'm guessing?

Francesca:
Wouldn't have picked up otherwise.

Saul:
Right. Excellent. Um, okay. Well, then... Lay it on me.

Francesca:
First things first.

Saul:
No, I believe we agreed after.

Francesca:
I'm hanging up.

Saul:
Okay! Okay, then! Jeez! I... Okay, if you're facing the phone, turn right ninety degrees and, uh, walk straight. You'll see some pieces of broken concrete in the dirt. Just pull back the one that's kinda shaped like New Jersey.

Francesca:
New Jersey?

Saul:
Alfred Hitchcock in a fez, whatever. Just pull that one back, and you'll see a, um, soda can tap. It's got a fishing line tied to it. Follow that line, it'll take you to an old water line, and just keep pulling the string and you'll get what I promised.

[Francesca leaves the phone off the hook and follows Saul's instructions. She soon retrieves a pouch containing three bundles of cash, amounting to several thousand dollars. She returns to the payhone.]

Francesca:
Okay.

Saul:
Great. Was it all there? I mean, the rats didn't eat it or anything?

Francesca:
It's all here.

Saul:
[exhales] Okay. Well, uh, tell me... how hot.

Francesca:
How hot?

Saul:
Yeah.

Francesca:
Well, I still get followed. Not as often as when the shit first hit the fan, but I still see them. My mail gets opened. My phone at home clicks whenever I use it.

Saul:
So the maestro buying the farm didn't change anything?

Francesca:
No. If anything, it made it worse. Skyler White got her deal, so the only ones left to go after are you and Pinkman. And I heard they found his car down by the border, so adios dopehead.

Saul:
Oh, so they're still on to me. Well... Hey, what do you know about the nail salons?

Francesca:
Nail salons are gone.

Saul:
What? Gone? All of them?

Francesca:
Yup.

Saul:
What about the vending machines?

Francesca:
Gone.

Saul:
Jesus! Don't tell me, the laser tag...

Francesca:
Feds found it all, Saul.

Saul:
How?! It was shells within shells! Dammit! Dammit!! Okay... okay... Hey— oh. Let's say there was an overseas account, Antigua and Barbuda—

Francesca:
Tiger Fish Corporation?

Saul:
What?

Francesca:
Tiger Fish Corporation? 850K? I gave it to the feds.

Saul:
You did what? Why would you do that?!

[An automated message tells Saul that his phone time has expired. He hurriedly puts more quarters into the payphone.]

Saul:
God dammit!

Francesca:
You—you put my name on the board of a fictional corporation. I had to give it up, I didn't really have a choice. And a heads-up would have been nice, by the way!

Saul:
So it's gone? It's all gone. Those sons of bitches took everything.

Francesca:
Except what you took with you, and I'm guessing that wasn't chump change.

Saul:
Yeah, well...

Francesca:
Well... Guess that's it.

Saul:
Wait, wait, wait! C'mon, I just put more quarters in! Can't you just... I don't know... give me the lowdown?

Francesca:
There's nothing else.

Saul:
Well, that's not true. After all this time? You know, come on. Just fill me in. Um... How's Kuby?

Francesca:
No idea.

Saul:
Alright, how about Huell?

Francesca:
Huell? I guess back home in New Orleans. DEA held him under false pretenses or something, so last I heard he walked.

Saul:
Good. Um, how about Danny? Or—or Ira? I mean, any word on those two guys?

Francesca:
They have Internet where you are?

Saul:
Well, just... C'mon, give me something. There's gotta be some news.

Francesca:
Remember Bill Oakley? He switched sides.

Saul:
He came out, huh?

Francesca:
No, he's not gay. He's a defense attorney now.

Saul:
Huh. Well, I mean... What about you? How are you doing?

Francesca:
[sarcastically] I'm just great. Prince Rainier proposed. The private jet is taking us to the palace on Thursday.

Saul:
Yeah. Okay, well... I guess that's it, then.

[Francesca mulls over what to tell Saul next.]

Francesca:
I did get one call, after everything went down. [pause] Kim. Checking in on me.

Saul:
No kidding?

Francesca:
Mm-hmm. Your name came up. Asked if you were alive.

Saul:
She asked about me... [pause] What did you tell her?

Francesca:
Nothing.

Saul:
But she asked.

Francesca:
Yup.

Saul:
[long pause] ...Yeah, okay. Well, I guess this is goodbye—

[Francesca hangs up without saying anything.]

[Saul goes inside the RV driven by the two masked men who kidnapped him and brought him to the desert]

Saul:
What the hell is this? It's like James Whale's travelling roadshow in here.

[Jesse Pinkman, a ski mask pulled up over his face, steps in behind him.]

Jesse:
Whatever the hell that is, Krystal Ship definitely travels.

[Walt enters and shuts the door behind him, incredulous. Meanwhile, Saul explores the RV.]

Walter:
I'm sorry, you said the what travels?

Jesse:
Krystal Ship. What I call this thing.

Walter:
Alright, never mind, just... No details. We're paying him to do a job, let's just leave it at that.

Saul:
"No details?" Fellas, that–that money you put in my pocket, that doesn't just extend to this job. That can get you attorney-client privilege on—on all matters!

Walter:
No details.

Saul:
Look at this setup. I mean–What, you two driving around like Mr. Softee, scooping out drugs for all the good boys and girls?

Jesse:
No, we don't deal from here.

Walter:
I said no details!

Jesse:
Dude is standing in front of a meth lab. It's not like he ain't gonna put two and two together!

Walter:
He is on a need-to-know basis.

Jesse:
Uh, I didn't wanna show my face. Did he need to know that?

Saul:
So, you're not just distribution. You're the whole freakin' package.

[Saul leans up against a table, considering Walt and Jesse before turning to the lab equipment.]

Saul:
You two actually make the blue stuff? [brief pause] Here?! [chuckles and picks up a flask] That's amazing!

Walter:
Can you not touch...?

Saul:
I mean, look at this! I had a fish that could've used this as a vacation home, but you're using it to make the goods, huh?

Jesse:
Yeah, it's a, um, round-bottom flask. [turns to Walt] Right? Round-bottom? [Walt grimaces and says nothing] It's a flask for distilling.

Walter:
It won't be if you break it. Now please, put it down.

Saul:
Oh. [clears his throat] Okay, so if you cook the blue stuff... [to Jesse] that means you're Igor and— [to Walt] and that makes you... You're Heisenberg. Wow. Hey, tell me, how-how much product can you churn out with a setup like this?

Walter:
Alright, we're done. We're done with the questions. We ask the questions. You have a job—one job—and I still don't understand how you're gonna pull it off.

Saul:
Listen, when I get all my ducks in a row, I'll give you a PowerPoint down at the office. But until then, just—just bring what we talked about, okay? And don't worry! I'm gonna make it work.

Walter:
I'm taking the eighty thousand as a starting point for negotiation.

Saul:
Take it any way you want. That's the price and, um... [clears throat again] I'm calling shotgun. [saunters up and plops down in the passenger's seat]

Walter:
[to Jesse, who attempts to take the driver's seat] I will drive.

Jesse:
Oh, yeah. Sure. I'll just... stand. I guess. [under his breath] Dick.

Saul:
At least you won't be rolling around like the last Christmas ham in the back of the delivery truck, you know? I—I've got bad knees. [to Walt] I think you might've messed up my rotator cuff. You're lucky I'm not charging you for my chiropractor, she's expensive. [to Jesse] But she adjusts everything.

[Walt starts the RV, which immediately stalls out.]

Walter:
Dammit.

Jesse:
You gotta give it some gas when you're backing up.

Walter:
I gave it the proper amount of gas.

Jesse:
I guess that's why we're "moving", then.

Walter:
Look, it just was... idling too long. It'll start.

[Walt attempts to turn over the ignition again and it sputters.]

Jesse:
Oh, you should've just let me drive, yo!

Walter:
Look, nothing would be different in this moment except you panicking and flooding the engine.

Jesse:
[scoffs] Bull-shit.

Saul:
Look, fellas, I was enjoying the Laurel and Hardy vibe, but I'm not such a fan of the Bickersons. Now, can you get me back to my office? I—I got work to do if you want me to make some magic.

Walter:
We just need to sit a moment, that's all. When it idles too long, the fuel pump overheats, and so we just need to let it cool down.

[Walt takes the key out of the ignition, plunging the RV into darkness. Walt clears his own throat, which turns into a cough. A bit of blood spills onto his hand and he wipes it away, but Saul notices. He gives Walt a once-over and Walt responds with a glare of his own, which prompts Saul to turn his attention to the window.]

Jesse:
So... who's Lalo?

Saul:
...Who?

Jesse:
Lalo. Thought some dude named Lalo sent us? You seemed pretty freaked out. Never heard of no Lalo on the street.

Saul:
[beat] It's nobody. [to Walt] Hey, are you gonna try that again? 'Cause... Or are they gonna find us, y'know, buried in a sandstorm a thousand years from now? Just, please.

[Walt turns the key and the RV springs to life once again]

Jesse:
[sarcastically] Bravo.

Saul:
I second that! I'm gonna give you two free words of advice: Jiffy. Lube.

Walter:
Hold on.

[They drive out of the desert, leaving behind the hole that Walt and Jesse previously dug up.]

[Saul is lying on the floor with his feet in the Swing Master as Mike enters his office]

Saul:
Ho, enter sunshine! Cast some light into my cool, dark world!

[Mike doesn't say anything, sitting on the couch and looking at a newspaper crossword puzzle]

Saul:
Hello? You're on the clock, right? So, get with the info any time.

Mike:
When you're done.

Saul:
No, I can multitask. Please.

Mike:
I'm not gonna talk to you while you're on... whatever that is.

Saul:
You know, LBJ used to have his underlings give him reports while he was on the shitter.

Mike:
Ah-hah. Well, either I'm gonna leave or I'm gonna put my foot in your skull.

Saul:
[sighs; turns off Swing Master] Fine. [gets up off the floor] You should try one of these. You walk like Frankenstein after he was probed by aliens. Ha! I can get you one. Would do wonders for your chi. [puts on his suit jacket and seats himself behind his desk] Let's go. Lay it on me.

[Mike walks to the desk and hands Saul an envelope containing photos.]

Mike:
Alright. First, there's your Mrs. Denise Gabbler. She's cheating, alright.

Saul:
[whistles] Limber! Ha-ha! Well, at least I know they didn't spot you. No one could stay that aroused with your mug peeking through the window. [Mike stares at Saul, stone-faced; he doesn't respond] What else you got?

Mike:
Well, next I followed your bus driver. Newsflash: He really does have a broken neck.

Saul:
Fantastic. That makes my life much easier. Keep it coming.

Mike:
Second-story guy out of Indianapolis, Lasky? Did a dime at Menard. Now, if you're looking for a tenor who will keep his mouth shut, you can trust him. I say he's worth keeping an eye on.

Saul:
Second-story guy, second-story guy... I—I got more second-story guys in my book than pimples at a junior prom. That... [inhales] What about, uh, that Heisenberg fella?

Mike:
High school chemistry teacher.

Saul:
You're shittin' me, really?

Mike:
Walter Hartwell White. Chemistry teacher over at J. P. Wynne. Working with a former student, current meth head, one Jesse Pinkman.

Saul:
Wow... Uh, what else about the teacher?

Mike:
He has lung cancer.

Saul:
Jesus. That's why he can't quit with the coughing. How bad?

Mike:
Stage 3A. He's in treatment, more tests to come. But it doesn't look good. Now listen, even if this guy was gonna live, I wouldn't go near him. He's a complete amateur.

Saul:
Well, you see an amateur, I see 170 pounds of clay ready to be molded.

Mike:
Well, if the cancer doesn't get him, it will be the cops or a bullet to the head.

Saul:
Is that your appraisal, or is that what He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named says about him?

Mike:
He didn't say anything. The guy is small potatoes.

Saul:
Yeah, okay. I hear ya. I just—I got a feeling about this. This Heisenberg guy's got something. It's top-of-the-line product, that's the buzz on the street. And I just think with the right management—

Mike:
You know, years ago I bought a Betamax. Good product, top of the line. Experts said it was better than a VHS. Turned out to be a complete waste of time and money.

Saul:
Hm?

Mike:
[sternly] Let it go.

Saul:
[sighs] ...Guy with that mustache probably doesn't make a lot of good life choices. So yeah, the second-story guy. Menard, you said?

Mike:
Yeah, right, right, right. Alright, part of a high-end crew fencing jewelry up into Canada. Now, Lasky kid caught a bad break. Cop was driving by just as he was ducking in a window. He did the time, no one else on his crew went down. Solid.

[Saul stares off into space, not paying attention to what Mike is saying.]

[Saul learns that Jeff's friend, Buddy, bailed on one of their scams and confronts him in the garage behind Jeff's house.]

Saul:
You're kidding me! Absolutely kidding me!

Buddy:
I'm sorry, man. I couldn't do it.

Saul:
Do you know how much time, how much effort I put into finding the perfect mark?! I have to weed through all these saps who have wives and families at home! Find somebody who's alone, with money! And what—So you can just wimp out?!

Buddy:
The guy has cancer, man! I found pills in his pocket, okay? The same ones my dad took. For, like, pancreatic cancer.

Saul:
So a guy with cancer can't be an asshole? [scoffs] Believe me! I speak from experience!

Buddy:
I can't rip off a guy with cancer. I'm sorry.

Saul:
Do you know how many of the suckers we've ripped off had sob stories?! Every single one of them! Besides, it'll be months before they even realize they've been taken! This guy will already be dead! So please get back in your truck, go back to the house, and finish the job!

Buddy:
[beat] No, man. I can't do that! I can't!

Saul:
Alright, I get it! You'll get over it, okay? Please, believe me. Before you know it, you'll forget all about it. [softly] Go.

Buddy:
Look, we're doing really well, right? Hear me out, okay? I mean, we're rolling in cash! We can just let this one go!

Saul:
Not your call.

Buddy:
[sighs] Yeah, but I... I pulled the tape when I left! The door's locked! We couldn't get back in even if we wanted to! [Saul angrily slaps the top of Jeff's car] Jeff, come on, man! Back me up here!

Jeff:
Oh, well I... I don't know. I mean, I can see both sides kinda.

Saul:
You know what? Forget it, you're fired. Just go! Just give me the camera and go!

Buddy:
[hands Saul his camera] Fine.

Saul:
GOOD! Go, we don't need you! And I know I don't need to tell you this, but since you're such a goddamn amateur, I will anyway! Keep your mouth shut.

[Buddy gives Jeff one last glance before leaving the garage.]

Saul:
[to Jeff] If we're gonna do this, we should leave now.

Jeff:
...We're really gonna go back there?

Saul:
What did I just say? Jeff, are you in or out?!

Kim:
Kim Wexler.

Jimmy:
Hey, Kim Wexler! You know who this is? [beat; Kim is silent] I'm gonna take that as a "yes". Uh, that receptionist of yours, is she the type to listen in?

Kim:
No.

Jimmy:
Good! Okay! So... How's Florida been treating you? I'm catching you between hurricanes, I hope. [pause] Kim? You there?

Kim:
What do you want?

Jimmy:
No, I don't... I don't want anything, I just—It's been a while, y'know, I was just... I was thinking, it's been a while? And, uh... It might be nice to catch up.

Kim:
"Catch up?"

Jimmy:
Yeah, my mind was wandering this morning, just... Not thinking anything in particular, just random thoughts and—Bam, it suddenly occurred to me, it's been six years. I mean, Jesus. I—I couldn't believe it! [beat] I thought you might wanna know I'm still alive. [pause] Yep. I'm still out here! Still getting away with it! Feds couldn't find their own ass with both hands and a proctologist.

Kim:
You shouldn't be calling me.

Jimmy:
Oh, hey! You're awake!

Kim:
You shouldn't be calling.

Jimmy:
Why not? What, am I tying up the line from important irrigation business? I mean, come on, Kim, say something. Hey, call me an asshole! Yell at me! Just let me know you still got a pulse. [pause] Just say something!

Kim:
You want me to say something?

Jimmy:
Yeah.

Kim:
You should turn yourself in.

Jimmy:
Do what?

Kim:
You heard me. I don't know what kind of life you've been living, but it can't be much.

Jimmy:
Said the pot to the kettle! What?! That is—that is really rich, you—you preaching to me?! See, you have no idea what I did or didn't do, okay? And why–why don't you turn yourself in? Seeing as how you're the one with the guilty conscience, huh? What is—What is stopping you, huh? Fring's in the ground. Mike's in the ground. Lalo's in the ground, apparently. You don't have to hold back on my account! They can only hang me once, so what?! So go ahead! Spill your guts, put on your hair shirt, see what it gets you! Why are... Kim, why are we even talking about this? We're both too smart to throw our lives away for no reason, just... I just—I only wanted to... Kim—Kim...! Kim—

Kim:
I'm glad you're alive. [she hangs up]

[Cheryl Hamlin has just finished reading Kim's written confession, describing the events leading up to the night of Howard's death]

Cheryl:
Howard was murdered? [pause; Kim nods] Why?

Kim:
He was... in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Cheryl:
Where's his body?

Kim:
I don't know.

Cheryl:
And the police... Will they search again?

Kim:
They'll search. I don't think they'll find him. Cheryl, he... It—It all happened in an instant, and he didn't... he didn't suffer.

Cheryl:
"He didn't suffer"? The lies you two made up, the picture you painted... That's all he is now! That's all anybody remembers!

Kim:
I wanna change that.

Cheryl:
What happens now? Will you be tried? Will you go to jail?

Kim:
I don't know.

Cheryl:
You're a lawyer, right? You're a... a great one, Howard said! How could you not know?

Kim:
Bernalillo County has my affidavit. It's up to the district attorney whether to prosecute. And she may not.

Cheryl:
Why?

Kim:
There's no physical evidence. No remaining witnesses other than my ex-husband, assuming he's still alive.

Cheryl:
I could sue you in civil court. I could take everything you've got.

Kim:
Yeah.

Cheryl:
...Why are you doing this?

[Kim stands outside Saul's office, attempting to light a cigarette. A man, revealed to be Jesse Pinkman, leans against a wall.]

Jesse:
Hey, yo... Can I bum one of those?

[Kim pauses before offering him the cigarette. Jesse takes one and she lights it for him.]

Jesse:
Thanks. [gestures towards the rain] What's up with this shit?

Kim:
Raining.

Jesse:
Yeah. I dunno, it's... It's crazy! Like, bananas, all this rain. I mean, I thought we were, like, in a desert, y'know? [beat] You're a lawyer, right? [Kim turns to him] Yeah. I recognize you. You defended my buddy, Combo. Christian Ortega? Juvie court, little baby Jesus? I mean, not like a real baby. Just, uh... y'know, one of those things outside of the... church?

Kim:
Nativity scene.

Jesse:
Yeah.

Kim:
Knights of Columbus.

Jesse:
I mean, what the hell did he even want that thing for? Huh? I mean, I—I still don't know. Dumbass. I told him he could go to hell for stealing something like that. I mean—But did he listen to me? No. But you... You got him off, like, scot-free. That... That was pretty slick, yo!

Kim:
Well... Tell him I hope he's keeping his nose clean.

Jesse:
Yeah, yeah. Right on. Absolutely. Uh... Hey, so you having all this expertise and all... This guy, Goodman... [pause] He the real deal? Like, lawyer-wise?

Kim:
Why do you ask?

Jesse:
I got a buddy in there who's facing some serious time. I mean, not... y'know, not baby Jesus time, but... but serious. You know, he needs top-shelf legal representation. And I tell him that, right? But, you know, he sees this dude's commercials on TV, and this is where he wants to go. I mean, I tell him, "Yo... Emilio, you know, a funny TV commercial's not a sound... basis for, like, you know... [pause] I mean, like, would you go to a doctor to do, like, an operation on you in, like a... On, like your spleen or whatever... All on the fact that those were funny TV commercials? No. I mean, c'mon. How is this any different, y'know?" Anyways... This guy. Any good?

[Kim flicks her cigarette away]

Kim:
When I knew him, he was. [pulls her hood up and runs out into the rain]

[Saul calls Marion after learning that Jeff has been arrested for the robbery he committed the previous night]

Marion:
Hello? [pause] Gene! Honey, do you know what time it is? [beat; picks up her phone and sits down] Oh... Oh God, that boy. He's gonna put me in my grave.

Saul:
Marion... [chuckles] It's a mistake is all. Getting picked up for something you didn't do, that could happen to anybody.

Marion:
Yeah right, anyone. This isn't the first time, you know. He's been in trouble before. Oh, Jesus!

Saul:
Marion—

Marion:
The death of me! He's gonna be the death of me!

Saul:
Marion! Marion, it's gonna be alright. We'll get him outta there lickety-split.

Marion:
I've been through this before. There's nothing lickety-split about it. Back when he was living in Albuquerque... Drunk in public, resisting arrest, urinating in—in some place he shouldn't have! And me on the telephone for hours long-distance, trying to find one of those bailout places. I maxed out my Discover card. I'm still paying for that one!

Saul:
Well, money's not gonna be a problem because I'm gonna help you with that.

Marion:
No, Gene. I can't let you do that. No.

Saul:
Sure you can. Jeff will pay me back. And you don't have to worry about a bondsman either, because guess what? In Omaha, they don't have 'em. Right? You just walk into the station, you pay out straight cash bail. It's not like Albuquerque at all. [beat; Marion starts growing suspicious] Marion, you still there?

Marion:
Yeah, what... Why did Jeff call you instead of me?

Saul:
Well, I think he was scared of how you'd take it. Honestly, I was gonna pay the bail myself, but I think it should be a family member. I think that'd be best. [brief pause] I'll tell you what. Let me take a shower, get dressed, and you do the same. I'll swing by and pick you up, we'll get this whole thing squared away.

Marion:
What about Buddy? Is he in any trouble?

Saul:
I don't think so. Why would he be? Heh. I'll see you in about an hour.

Marion:
Yeah, okay. Yeah, thanks.

[After she hangs up the phone, Marion unplugs her phone cord and connects it to her laptop.]

[Saul has just discovered Marion watching videos on the internet. He opens up her laptop to find one of his old commercials playing, then re-shuts it.]

Saul:
What's that?

Marion:
...You tell me.

Saul:
Marion, do you think that's me? 'Cause it's not.

Marion:
There never was a Nippy, was there?

Saul:
What did Jeff tell you?

Marion:
Oh, he didn't tell me anything. AskJeeves told me. I typed in "conman" and "Albuquerque". And up you popped, big as day. [reaches for her phone]

Saul:
What are you doing, Marion?

Marion:
What do you think I'm doing? I'm calling the police.

Saul:
Here. Let me help you with that. [rips the phone line from the wall and backs Marion into a corner] Listen, I think we're losing sight of the bigger picture here, okay? Jeff is in trouble, and I wanna help him. He and I could sure use your support here.

Marion:
What'd you get my son into?!

Saul:
Nothing that he didn't ask for. [shoves Marion's chair to the side and wraps the phone cord around his fists] Listen, I'm still the good friend you thought I was, okay? Jeff understands me! Buddy understands me! And you will, too. You just have to, uh... You know, keep things on an even keel, alright?

[Marion pulls out her LifeAlert button, threatening Saul with it as he closes in.]

Saul:
What have you got there? Put that down. Put that down, Marion. Put it down. Do not do it, Marion. Final warning... [takes it out of her grasp]

Marion:
I trusted you.

[Saul holds on to the button for a few moments, guilt quickly setting in before he lets it go. Marion grasps the button again and presses it.]

Valerie:
Marion? This is Valerie with LifeAlert. Are you okay?

Marion:
No, Valerie, I'm not okay! There's a criminal standing in my kitchen, threatening me! He's a wanted man, and his name is Saul Goodman!

Valerie:
Alright, Marion? I'm calling the police, I'm calling right now.

[Saul sprints out of the kitchen and exits the house. Marion looks on in shock.]

[While walking through the desert with Mike, Jimmy dunks his head into a cistern and takes huge gulps of water]

Mike:
Slow down. You're gonna make yourself sick.

[Jimmy, seemingly unheeding, empties his bottle of piss, then replaces the contents with the water. Some time later, Mike and Jimmy sit next to each other in the quiet.]

Jimmy:
You know... We're sitting on seven million bucks here. Literally.

Mike:
Yeah.

Jimmy:
I say we take it. Split, 50-50. Take off.

Mike:
It's not ours.

Jimmy:
Could be...

Mike:
Yeah, well, I know some people who would have a problem with that.

Jimmy:
Them? Don't worry about them.

[Mike sees Jimmy vacantly staring off into space]

Mike:
You feeling alright?

Jimmy:
...First thing we do? Take six million bucks and build a time machine. Those people that you're worried about? They'll never find us. Where would you go first, huh? You—You look... like a history buff, right? What, would you go to Civil War times, or Ancient Rome?

Mike:
Oh, Christ. Hm. Um... December 8, 2001.

Jimmy:
Why?

Mike:
No. No... March 17, 1984. The day I took my first bribe. And then I'd go forward. There's some people I'd like to check on in five or ten years, make sure they're doing okay. You?

Jimmy:
[scoffs] It's easy. May 10, 1965. That's the day Warren Buffet took over at Berkshire Hathaway. I figure, I got a million left, I'm building a time machine, so I take my half and just stick it into Berkshire. And then I come back here, and... I'm a billionaire. Uh... Is there such a thing as a trillionaire?

Mike:
That's it? Money?

Jimmy:
What else?

Mike:
Nothing you'd change?

Jimmy:
[beat] I'm rested. [gets up with the money bags]

[Saul, calling from prison, is recruiting Bill Oakley to be his advisory counsel.]

Bill:
William Oakley & Associates. "Trust experience, trust Oakley." Bill Oakley speaking.

Saul:
"Trust experience, trust Oakley." I like that. It's catchy. You know who this is, right?

[Bill drops his folders when he recognizes Saul's voice]

Bill:
[pause] Saul?

Saul:
You got it, buddy.

Bill:
[stuttering] Wh–Wh–What are you, uh... What—What are you—Uh, what are you doing? You know I'm gonna have to report this call.

Saul:
Whoa! Calm down, Junior. The cops know all about the call. They're probably listening in. The fact is, I'm standing in the middle of a police station as we speak.

Bill:
So they finally caught you.

Saul:
Listen, this is your lucky day. I am talking to Saul Goodman's new advisory counsel.

Bill:
What?

Saul:
Keep up, Bill. You hit the jackpot.

Bill:
Advisory counsel?

Saul:
This puts you on the map, amigo. Here's what you're gonna do: You're gonna grab a flight to Omaha, Nebraska, ASAP. There's nothing direct, so you're gonna have to connect through Houston.

Bill:
What?! Who's paying for this?

Saul:
You are. Listen, you hear that?

Bill:
Hear what?

Saul:
Bang, bang! That's opportunity knocking. Get off your ass and answer the door. Okay, on your way to the airport, I need you to make some calls—

Bill:
Wait, wait, hold on! Even supposing, hypothetically, I'd be willing to take this on—

Saul:
"Willing"?! Bill, this is a career-maker! Get real, you're doing this!

Bill:
The DA has a warehouse of evidence against you. I can't even begin to imagine what the Feds are sitting on! No matter who your lawyer is, you are screwed. So I've gotta ask... Where do you see this ending?

Saul:
[brief pause] Where do I see it ending? Um... With me on top. Like always.

[At Saul's request, the prosecutors bring in Hank's widow, Marie, during his plea negotiation]

Marie:
They tell me they found you in a garbage dumpster. [pause] Well, that makes sense. My husband was the best man that I have ever known. He lived to help others. If somebody was in trouble—no matter the time, no matter the place—Hank Schrader would be there... with a smile and a joke. He was kind, he was decent. He was strong. His partner... Steve Gomez. Steve... and Blanca made a home that was warm and full of laughter. Three children. Three fatherless children. Hank and Steve, the good guys, they were shot dead... and left in a hole in the desert! [points at Saul] And you—you—helped the two-faced poisonous bastard behind it all. For what? Money? You did it all... for money. No matter what they do with you now, no matter where they put you or for how long, it will never be enough.

Saul:
Mrs... Mrs. Schrader. [clears throat] The loss that you've suffered, it's unspeakable. [pause] I met your husband. A few times. He was a man who stood by his word, and he was very good at his job. He was a straight-shooter. You and he are... victims. And so am I.

[Bill and Marie stare at Saul with puzzled looks]

Saul:
Two years ago, a man came into my office. He said his name was Mayhew. He wanted one of my clients to lie under oath. He offered me money. I declined. Any lawyer would. That night, as I was leaving my office, I was attacked. Two men threw a sack over my head, hog-tied me, and they drove me out into the desert. And when they pulled the hood off, I was kneeling in front of an open grave. [presses finger against his right temple] With a gun pointed at my head. That was my introduction to Walter White. [pause] From that moment on... there hasn't been a minute that I wasn't afraid. Yeah, I worked for him. I made a lot of money, but that's not why I did it. I did it because I knew what he would do to me if I refused. Over and over, I thought I would go over to the police. I even thought about talking to Agent Schrader, [Marie snickers in disbelief] but I knew that Walter White would kill me wherever I was. And I was right. You look it up: October 4, 2009. They murdered ten men inside three prisons in the space of two minutes. Knifed. Throats slashed. A man was burned alive. They even killed one of my colleagues—a lawyer. He was cooperating with the DEA: Daniel Wachsberger. The news said Dan... was stabbed forty-eight times. So, yeah. When it all blew up, I ran. But not from the police. From them. Walter White might be dead, but Jesse Pinkman and the others, they're still out there somewhere. [brief pause] Mrs. Schrader, you are looking at a man who has lost everything. My profession, my family, my freedom. I have–I have nobody. I have nothing.

Castellano:
...And you think jurors are gonna buy that?

Saul:
One. All I need is one. [pause] Oakley tells me that you've never lost a case. Is that so? Heh. That's a hell of a record. You should be proud of that. Still... juries, right? [exhales deeply] You never can tell. It's a roll of the dice. [shrugs] I just—I'm hoping there's some wiggle room.

Marie:
[pause; looks menacingly at Castellano] You are not going to negotiate with this man. You're not.

[Saul lies down on a cot while Walter tries to repair a water heater in the bunker of Best Quality Vacuum]

Saul:
Hey, you're a scientist, right? So, I have a question: What would you do if you had a time machine?

Walter:
A time machine?

Saul:
Yeah. Um... From a scientist's point of view, you can go backwards, forwards, uh... Where would you go?

[Walt stops and looks back]

Walter:
A meaningless question. [coughs] "Time machine"... Time travel—the kind of time travel that you're thinking of—is a scientific impossibility. It would violate the second law of thermodynamics.

Saul:
Uh, but what about wormholes?

Walter:
Oh!

Saul:
Well, I was watching Nova, and Alan Alda seemed to think—

Walter:
[stands up] Oh, well then Alan Alda is the expert! Oh, Christ, are you kidding me?! Quantum mechanics? We're discussing that now?! Stay in your lane!

[He walks over to a cooler and presses the button, taking a sip of water out of the glass.]

Saul:
It's just a thought experiment. There's gotta be something you'd go back and change, if you could.

Walter:
[pause; drinks his water in one sip] You are not talking about a time machine, which is both a real and theoretical impossibility. You are talking about regrets. So if you want to ask about regrets, just ask about regrets, and leave all this time-traveling nonsense out of it!

Saul:
Okay! Regrets, then!

Walter:
Regrets?

Saul:
Yeah.

Walter:
My regrets. Alright, well... My regrets.

[Walt pauses and looks down at the watch Jesse gave him for his 51st birthday, then sits down.]

Walter:
Well... [beat] When I was a graduate student, I started a company with some... [shrugs] at the time, I thought they were my friends. Our goal was to commercialize... discoveries that I had made. And... at a certain point... [pause] I stepped away. I thought I was doing the gentlemanly thing. But little did I understand that they were artfully maneuvering me into leaving my own creation. And, had I stayed, oh... [scoffs] Well, I wouldn't be down here with you.

Saul:
So, you started a company. Is it still around?

Walter:
Oh, yes.

Saul:
Is it successful?

Walter:
Very.

Saul:
[gets up] How could you never tell me about this? We could've done something with this! Wrongful termination. Intellectual property theft. Uh, patent fraud. I mean, I could've sunk my teeth into this!

Walter:
You'd have been the last lawyer I'd have gone to.

Saul:
Yeah. Sure. [sits back down]

Walter:
So, what about you?

Saul:
What?

Walter:
Regrets.

[Walt motions for him to spill. Saul takes a moment and Walt sighs, disappointed.]

Saul:
Wait, I got one!

Walter:
You know what? Never mind.

Saul:
[clears throat] When I was 20, um... 22, I pulled a slip-and-fall outside Marshall Fields. I did! And I was stupid and young, and I was trying to show off. So I hit the ice as fast as I could, I biffed it so hard, I heard a crack! Phew. Wasn't the ice, it was me. [chuckles] I actually hurt myself. I mean, [taps his right knee] my knees have never been the same.

Walter:
...A slip-and-fall?

Saul:
Yeah, that's... how I put myself through bartending school.

Walter:
Right, so... So, you were always like this.

[Saul says nothing as Walt resumes his work on the water heater]

[Saul takes the stand in his defense during his sentencing against Bill Oakley's advice. Kim watches from the back of the courtroom.]

Saul:
Two years ago, a man came into my office. He said his name was Mayhew. He wanted one of my clients to lie for him under oath. He offered me money, I refused. That night, as I was leaving my office, I was attacked. A bag was shoved over my head, I was hog-tied, I was driven out of the desert. And when they pulled the hood off, I was kneeling in front of an open grave with a gun pointed at my head! That was my introduction to Walter White! I was terrified! [beat; shakes his head] But not for long. [chuckles] That night I saw an opportunity—a shot at big money—and I grabbed it, and I held it tight. And for the next sixteen months... my every waking moment was spent building Walter White's drug empire.

Judge Small:
Hold on, Mr. Goodman. Stop right there. Consult Mr. Oakley before you say another word.

Saul:
Your Honor, I believe the court deserves the whole truth.

Judge Small:
You are contradicting your plea agreement's sworn factual basis.

Saul:
No offense, Your Honor, but I–I think I know the law here better than you do.

Bill:
[stands up] Your Honor, we would like to request a recess.

Saul:
No, we do not need a recess.

Castellano:
Your Honor, we are satisfied for Mr. Goodman to continue.

Bill:
Your Honor... I'd like to petition to withdraw from this case.

Judge Small:
Denied.

Bill:
Uh, respectfully.

Judge Small:
Not a chance. [long pause; Bill reluctantly sits down] Swear Mr. Goodman in.

[Saul raises his hand in oath]

Bailiff:
Do you swear that the evidence you shall give to the court in this matter shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you God?

Saul:
I do.

Judge Small:
Mr. Goodman, you are now under oath. Any false statement you make can be used in prosecution for perjury or obstruction of justice. Do you understand?

Saul:
Yes.

Judge Small:
Alright. In the last twenty-four hours, have you used any alcohol or other drugs?

Saul:
No, Your Honor.

Judge Small:
Are you taking any prescription medications?

Saul:
No.

Judge Small:
Alright. Continue.

Saul:
[beat; turns around and looks at Kim] Oh! Uh, I lied to the government about Kim Wexler. Uh, I fed them a load of BS about her involvement in Howard Hamlin's murder. I just... I just wanted her to come here today. I wanted her to hear this. [brief pause] So, yeah, I wasn't there when the meth was cooked. I wasn't there when it was sold. I didn't witness any of the murders, but I damn well knew it was happening. I was more than a willing participant, I was indispensable. I kept Walter White out of jail. I laundered his money, I lied for him, I conspired with him, and I made millions! If he hadn't walked into my office that day, Walter White would've been dead or behind bars within a month! And Agent Schrader, and Agent Gomez, and a whole lot of other people would still be alive. Fact is, Walter White couldn't have done it without me. [to the prosecutors] You got that?

Bill:
Your Honor, we move to strike Mr. Goodman's comments.

[Saul stares at Kim with worry]

Judge Small:
On what grounds?

Bill:
Uh, speculation.

Judge Small:
Speculation? He's testifying to his own actions.

Bill:
Your Honor, uh... he's describing events that would've transpired had he acted differently.

Saul:
I have one more thing to say!

Judge Small:
Sit down, Mr. Goodman.

Saul:
Please, Your Honor. Please!

Judge Small:
Now. Marshal, please remove Mr. Goodman from the podium.

Castellano:
Your Honor, the government urges the court to allow Mr. Goodman to continue!

Judge Small:
[pause] Alright, Mr. Goodman. Go ahead.

Saul:
What happened to Howard Hamlin, it was... It was... [voice breaking] I can't even. After that, Kim had the guts to start over. She left town, but... I'm the one who ran away. [pause] And my brother Chuck... Uh, Charles McGill. Y–you may have known him. He was an incredible lawyer. The most brilliant guy I ever met, but he was limited. I tried. I could've tried harder. I should've... Instead—

Bill:
Your Honor—

Saul:
Bill, please! Just let me get through this. Instead, when I saw a chance to hurt him, I took it. I got his malpractice insurance cancelled. I took away the one thing he lived for: The law. After that, he killed himself. [beat] And I'll live with that.

[Saul leaves the podium and stands next to Bill]

Bill:
What was all that? That thing with your brother, that wasn't even a crime.

Saul:
Yeah, it was.

Judge Small:
Mr. Goodman, sit down and stay seated.

Jimmy:
The name's McGill. I'm James McGill.

[Jimmy enters Chuck's house in the middle of the night with several bags in his hands]

Chuck:
Did you ground yourself?

Jimmy:
Yes, I did! Oh, crap!

[Jimmy trips over his own feet offscreen and begins gathering the supplies]

Chuck:
I was starting to worry.

Jimmy:
My car conked out on the 40. I almost got creamed by a cement truck! [Jimmy begins laying out groceries on the table] Oh, um... They had those apples that you like. I got you half a dozen Fuji. And the newsstand on Central said they might start carrying the Financial Times, so that's good, right?

[Chuck stares with a mixture of disbelief and pride as Jimmy sorts everything out]

Jimmy:
What?

Chuck:
You know I could hire someone to do this. I could get someone from the office...

Jimmy:
I'm doing it.

Chuck:
Yeah? Every day? While you're trying to start a... practice? Why?

Jimmy:
"Why?" 'Cause you're my brother, duh. You'd do the same for me.

Chuck:
Hm. Well, you could stay for a while. We could talk.

Jimmy:
Talk? What about?

Chuck:
Well, your cases, your clients?

Jimmy:
You wanna talk about my clients? Uh, seriously? You wanna talk about the granny who got picked up for soliciting inside a Christian Science Reading Room? Uh, what about the kid who broke into a liquor store and drank five bottles of créme de menthe and passed out behind the counter?

Chuck:
They deserve a vigorous defense, like any other client.

Jimmy:
...Or maybe you just wanna tell me what I'm doing wrong.

Chuck:
That's not what I had in mind!

[Jimmy goes back to setting the supplies. He lays out the ice]

Chuck:
I'm hoping you didn't steal that from the hotel ice machine.

Jimmy:
You can hope! I'm gonna take a pass on the heart-to-heart, Chuck. One of my "deserving clients"... He got caught waving the weenie outside a Hobby Lobby.

Chuck:
[moves to get his wallet] Well, hold on, you gotta reimburse yourself.

Jimmy:
Mm, this one's on me.

Chuck:
Jimmy, if you don't like where you're heading, there's no shame in going back and changing your path.

Jimmy:
Uh, when have you ever changed your path? [shrugs and chuckles when Chuck doesn't respond] Hey. Think on it.

Chuck:
We always end up having the same conversation, don't we?

Jimmy:
I'll see you tomorrow, Chuck. And I might have the Financial Times!

[Chuck stares a while, then picks up his copy of The Time Machine and his lantern before walking into the darkness.]

[Jimmy gets a visit from a "lawyer" in prison, and is surprised to see that it's Kim]

Kim:
Hi, Jimmy.

Jimmy:
Hi. How did you... ?

Kim:
Uh, turns out my New Mexico Bar card doesn't have an expiration date.

[Kim looks out the door to make sure no one is around. She offers Jimmy a cigarette, which he accepts. They both lean against a wall and share the cigarette together.]

Kim:
You had them down to seven years. [borrows cigarette from Jimmy]

Jimmy:
Yeah, I did.

Kim:
[long pause] Eighty-six years.

[Jimmy takes the cigarette out of Kim's mouth]

Jimmy:
Eighty-six years. But... with good behavior, who knows?