Walter, you’ve been busy. You wanna put your arms out to the sides for me if you would? You know I haven’t slept since Thursday? I was out all night cleaning up after you. I need my sleep. Mmm… yeah, funny how words can be so open to interpretation. You get your car fixed? You’re gonna want to get your car fixed.
You… are trouble. I’m sorry the kid here doesn’t see it, but I sure as hell do. You are a time bomb. Tick, tick, ticking. And I have no intention of being around for the boom. Well… you know how they say, it’s been a pleasure? It hasn’t.
Well, I guess that’s it. Parting thoughts of which I have two. First: as I said I’ll handle the legacy costs out of my end so you won’t have to worry about my guys anymore. Second: the bug. The DEA will do a sweep can’t say when, could be any time. But you need to get it out of there sooner rather than later. Alright. Just get the bug, Walter.
Goodbye, Walter. I don’t owe you a damn thing. All of this — falling apart like this — is on YOU. We had a good thing, you stupid son of a bitch! We had Fring. We had a lab. We had everything we needed and it all ran like clockwork. You could’ve shut your mouth, cooked, and made as much money as you ever needed. It was perfect. But no! You just had to blow it up. YOU! And your pride and your ego. You just had to be the man. If you’d done your job, known your place, we’d all be fine right now.