THIS TAKES PLACE 15 YEARS AFTER THE LAST EPISODE IN THE ABC ORIGINAL SERIES BREAKING BAD. JUST SO GOVERNMENT KNOWS THIS IS NOT SANCTIONED BY THE CREATORS OF BREAKING BAD, BUT I FEEL, AS I AM AN AVID FAN AND HAVE SEEN EVERY EPISODE THAT THEY WOULD APPROVE THIS AND MAYBE EVEN USE THIS IN ANY FUTURE SEASONS OR MAYBE EVEN A MOVIE. IF THE CREATORS OF BREAKING BAD READ THIS I ALSO HAVE THIS STORY IN SCRIPT FORM. THANKS YOU AND ENJOY!1
Walter White sat in the dingy Mexican themed bar, moving his eyes back and forth across the Mexican décor that adorned the walls. He scanned the room for his friend and old business partner Gus, who had called Walter out for a drink, but Gus hadn't arrived yet. Walter hadn't talked to Gus since 11 years ago when Walt stopped making meth in order to deal with his cancer and retarded son. Walt had gone clean, he had jumped on the straight and narrow, no more drug dealing for him. Gus walked in and sat next to Walt.
"Walt, we need you to make meth again."
"No, I haven't made meth in 10 years, I'm breaking good now."
"Walt, I'm willing to offer you three trillion dollars for just one batch."
"Listen Gustavo 'Gus' Fring, I'm done making meth!"
"GODD*MN IT I SAID NO"
"Walter, I'm gonna be frank here…"
"No! I don't want Frank, I want my pal Gustavo 'Gus' Fring, the Chilean-born proprietor of Los Pollos Hermanos, a highly successful fried chicken restaurant chain! TheGus who is a major drug kingpin initially affiliated with the Mexican Juarez Cartel, using his restaurant as a front for methamphetamine distribution throughout the American southwest. My Friend Gus, the one who promised never to ask me to make meth again!"
"That was then Walt, this is now. I need a batch."
"Fine," said Walt as he lit a meth cigarette, "but why?"
"Well, I have a plan. I'm gonna get a bunch of really good meth and give samples to politicians so they can see how good it is and make it legal," Gus lit a meth cigarette, "and you make the best damn meth I've ever tried."
"I know, cause I was a chemistry teacher, so I can make really strong meth."
They continued to take drags off their meth cigarettes.
"So how's the family?" asked Gus through puffs of meth smoke.
"Well, Walt Jr. is dying of retard cancer."
The next morning Walter tried to cook up some meth, but he could only come up with large bowls of spaghetti. "This will never do!" exclaimed Walter in his mind, "Gus wants meth! Not dumb spaghetti." But Walt just couldn't remember how to make meth. It had been so long since he last tried.
Gus walked into the lab to see how well Walter was doing with the meth. "How well are you doing with the meth?" asked Gus. Walter panicked. "Are you hungry, Gus?"
The next morning Walter tried making meth again, this time he remembered and was able to make the best meth ever. Gus came in to see how well Walt was doing with the meth. "How's the meth this time, and please don't tell me noodle!" They both shared a good laugh. "Nope, I made some good meth this time!" said Walter, he rolled up a meth cigarette with his new batch and gave it to Gus. Gus tried it and said, "Wow! This is really good for someone with cancer!"
They put the meth in their pockets and went to give it to some politicians. They were driving down the road when they got the munchies so they stopped at a gas station. They were f*cking high. They grabbed a handful of chips and cookies, but then a cop walked in. Walter looked at the cop and then at Gus, "I'm fucking losing my cool!" he yelled. The cop looked over. "Shhhhhhhh! Just act natural, we're fine, we're fine, we're fine," Gus whispered to Walter. The two were eye locked with the police officer. "How are you doing, officer?" asked Gus. "Shhhhhhhh he's gonna hear you!" yelled Walter with a finger over his lips, "fuck, now you got his attention!" Walter waved to the cop. "Hi officer! This feels like a place where meth wouldn't be, am I right?" Walter said in a panic. Gus was panicked. Beads of sweat fell down Walter's face as the officer remained silent. "WELL, AREN'T I FUCKING RIGHT?" The police officer remained silent. "Gus, we gotta get outa here!" exclaimed Walter as he ditched the package and ran out of the gas station. Gus wasn't far behind.
"WOW! That was close," said Gus as he pulled out a meth cigarette.
The next day Walt made some more meth but it was accidently heroin. "F*ck it! I'm just no good anymore!" said Walt. Gus overheard and came into the lab with a meth cigarette in his mouth. "Something weighing on your mind buddy?" asked Gus. Walter started to cry, "my son just died," he said through tears, "from complications of retard cancer." Walter lit a meth cigarette, but it was put out by his tears. "How's your cheating wife?" asked Gus. Gus sniffled, "she's ok, but she wants a divorce." Gus lit a meth cigarette and was now smoking two meth cigarettes. "I f*cked your wife, Walter, I'm sorry," Gus said as he lit a third meth cigarette. "Who hasn't!" Walter said as he lit a meth cigarette and gave it to Gus. They shared a good laugh as Gus humorously tried to smoke four meth cigarettes. Gus regained seriousness and said, "it's too bad that we'll never get meth legalized. You know, with you being unable to make meth." There was a period of silence. It was broken by laughter when Gus went to light a fifth meth cigarette. "God! Stop it Gus!" Walter said through laughs, "you're making my lung cancer act up!" Gus threw the meth cigarettes on the floor. "THAT'S IT! WE CAN MAKE A COMEDY ROUTINE ABOUT METH SO POLITICIANS CAN SEE THE BRIGHTER SIDE OF METH AND MAKE IT LEGAL!"
Over the next few days Gus and Walter wrote material for their comedy routine about meth. "What about if you smoke six meths onstage?" Walter suggested! "Yes! Yes! Yes!" Gus joyfully approved. "And then you can try to light a seventh, but you drop them all and be like, 'opps!"
Gus fell out of his chair laughing! "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHA! OH G*D, WALTER, THAT IS FUNNY!" GUS WAS IN TEARS FROM LAUGHING SO MUCH. "But let's try to refrain from using the lord's name in vain on stage, it might offend some people," Walter said in a stern voice. Gus nodded in approval.
But their comedy routine never took off because Gus got arrested for doing meth.
Walter went to visit Gus in jail. "This is exactly the type of shit we gotta fight against! Look at me! An innocent comedian in jail for making jokes!" Walter agreed, "Yeah, you just held a mirror up to society and showed us how ugly we really are, fuck society! They can't handle the truth! And the truth is that meth deserves to be legal!" A cop overheard their passionate conversation and was touched. He began to cry. Another cop came over to comfort the crying cop. "What's wrong?" asked the not crying cop.
"It's just that society sucks and meth should be legal.
The other cop began to also cry. "I know it should be, I found some in a gas station a few days ago and it was really good."
The cops made meth legal and set Gus free! Gus was walking out the door, arm over Walter's shoulder and vice versa when a cop called out, "BUT WHAT ARE YOU GUYS GONNA DO ABOUT ALL THAT SPAGHETTI!?"
Gus threw a wild spaghetti party in his restaurant the next day and invited the two cops. "Wow, this is a good party!" said one of the cops, but the other cop wandered into the lab and saw the heroin that Walter accidently made. "Gus!" yelled the cop. Gus came in and said, "Yeah?" The cop pulled out his gun and aimed it at Gus, "you wanna tell me why you got heroin here?" Gus laughed and said, "Oh Walter made that by accident." The cop said, "Actually, I'm Hank Schrader, Walt's brother in law who, in a twist, works for the DEA so actually I know that Walter didn't do this, So actually Walter didn't make this heroin cause he's my brother in law. Gus you're under arrest!" Special agent Schrader shot Gus twenty three times dead and then read him his Miranda Rights.
30 YEARS LATER
Walter sat in a rocking chair in a lonely corner of a dingy Mexican bar. He sat rocking back and forth, thinking of his life. "It's been a long trip." He said to himself, "full of memories and moments I wouldn't change for the world. I killed my wife cause she was always cheating. But I learned something from it all, that the puddle isn't always as shallow as it appears, but it also might be dangerously deep, and I don't wanna die in a world of such uncertainty, because is that really dying at all? I want closure on my life. I have a daughter who is gonna die in this world. Does meth kill? Well I'm dying. Does water kill? Does Oxygen kill? Well, I'm dying. Does mercury kill? Helium? Potassium? Uranium? CALCIUM? NITROGEN? HYDROGEN? CAUSE I'M F*CKING DYING HERE. YOU HAVE TO RESPECT CHEMISTRY. I WAS A CHEMISTRY TEACHER ONCE!" Nobody in the bar paid much attention to the senile old man rocking and yelling in the corner. "It's legal, we did it senor Walter!" said a Mexican gangster friend who was running through the door. Walt took a drag from his meth cigarette, "I'm breaking good now, but I'm dying from cancer."
"Sir, by state law you can't smoke in here"