Sorry, buddy. No can do. Pain is my foot in your ass. Ooh, heyo… pool party! Hey, I don’t get the gag, jackoff. Who is this? Let me get this straight.

You got this meth from ‘some dude’ wearing khaki pants, who had a mustache. And that’s it? That’s your brain working at full capacity? It means I think your story’s bullshit.

Marie, I said Cheetos, not Fritos. I must’ve said Cheetos like ten times. You need me to write it down for you? Well, I’m just saying, y’know, I said Cheetos. Ch-ch-ch sound. Virtually impossible to confuse Cheetos with Fritos it seems to me. Where are you going?

So things are quiet, y’know? Not a lot of crystal on the streets right now. Well, we keep hearing a name. Heisenberg. Lately pretty much every dimebagger we come across. Yeah, I know. Maybe it’s a tweaker urban legend. Still, somebody somewhere is cooking that big blue we keep finding. Come here… closer… Asshole.

That’s a recipe for vegan s’mores. There’s all kinds of crazy crap in there. He had like a top ten recumbent bicycles, indoor composting tips, all right next to the mother of methamphetamine syntheses. This guy was a uh, man he was a real character. Let me show you something. Right here, the top it says uh… ‘to W.W. my star, my perfect silence.’ W.W. who do you figure that is, you know? Woodrow Wilson, Willy Wonka… Walter White?