I think you know who Tuco Salamanca was. I think your car was there because you were there. Tuco had a bullet in him when I got there and I think you know something about that, too.

Sky, the, um... I know it's none of my business, but uh... keeping him away from the kids? Whoa, whoa, no heavy lifting. I got it. Jesus, what you got in there - cinder blocks? If I have to guess, I'd say that's Spanish for asshole. You? No. Only shooting that you do is into a Kleenex.

Our next three moves are sitting here and waiting. This here's the job buddy. Ain't all super models and speed boats, you know. Not a lot happening stateside. Hearing rumblings about some big play down south. Lots of bodies apparently. Y'know even by Cartel standards. We'll know more when the buzzards leave the bones.

I mean we're definitely not talking, you know, bathtub crank here, this is a big ass operation. You know, hundred of pounds a week, maybe more. Other than the fact that he's deader than a Texas salad bar and has a decent set of pipes, I'd say he's my guy. There's this mystery man I've been chasing for the better part of a year. Cooks the purest meth that uh me or anyone else has ever seen. Goes by the name of Heisenberg. Yeah, pretty weird, huh?