Excerpts from Jesse Pinkman's Christmas letter:
Yo! What up bayoatches? This the J to the P with this year's gnarly Christmas card.
First up, yo, I TOTALLY started a new home business. And you'll never guess who with! My old chemistry teacher Mr. White! And while I am now rolling up MAD STACKS (yo), it didn't start out so easy. It's hard out here for a pimp, yo.
At our very first, uh, business meeting, we ended up killing two dudes, which kind of messed me up (yo) because I knew this one guy from, like, grammar school (yo). And then we had to melt the bodies with acid which is not nearly as awesome as it sounds. It also fucked up my house.
Then we totally got, like, kidnapped by their boss. He wanted to take us to Mexico and by "us" I mean "Mr. White." Me he wanted to shoot in the head. Luckily, though, we, like, totally got out of that situation when Mr. White's brother-in-law showed up and killed the guy. But it's cool (yo) cuz he's, like, DEA or whatnot.
Which isn't so cool cuz our "home business" is cooking the sconte. But it's okay cuz Super Cop is, like, totally clueless.
After that I took a little chill break. Turns out that dissolving bodies in acid and nearly being executed by crazed cartel guys is kind of a bummer. But it was chill cuz I totally hooked up with this hot chick who also happened to be my building manager. It's...like...I could TOTALLY get a dog and she'd be down with it (yo).
Anyway, that didn't work out so good, cuz she ended up choking on her own vomit. So, you know, bummer. She was really into art and everything.
Anyway, after that things get kinda...whatcha call...Kafkaesque. Yeah, like totally Kafkaesque. First of all, my boy Combo gets gunned down. Then Mr. White's douchebag brother or whatever just totally comes to my house and pounds me like a porterhouse steak...and all just cuz I called in a fake accident report on his wife which I wouldn't have to have done in the first place if he hadn't been, like, TOTALLY violating my constitutional rights in my home of residence type recreational vehicle. But then he ends up getting shot by these two crazy ass Mexicans, so karma and that. He's okay now, though.
So after I get out of the hospital, I got busy rolling down on the guys who took out Combo. Code of the streets, yo. Eye for an eye and that. But then right when I'm walking up on them strapped and ready to lay it down, Mr. White runs them over, which would be cool except they worked for this, like, supervillain Chicken Man dude. You wouldn't know it to look at him, but dude is stone cold.
So the Chicken Man is gonna kill Mr. White because he has a chemist who can replace him, so I shoot the chemist so now the Chicken Man needs us, but the Chicken Man wanted to make sure we knew...like...our lives were going to be hell so he killed one of his henchmen right in front of us. And I don't mean he shot him. Cut his throat (yo) then left him for us to clean up.
So we dissolved his body in acid. It went a little better this time. Practice makes perfect (yo).
So then I was, like, this indentured servant type guy for the Chicken Man and his buddy Mike. Mike isn't so bad. They put me in charge of, like, security (yo) and the three of us flew down to Mexico where we, like, poisoned an entire drug cartel and escaped in a firefight.
Anyway, after that things with the Chicken Man and Mr. White got kinda tense, so Mr. White lured him into an old folks home and blew it up. I don't remember all the details because my girlfriend's son was sick with what was totally not my ricin. Oh, did I mention I've got ricin? Maybe I shouldn't talk about that.
Anyway, so now we're totally in business with Mike. We've been cooking sconte and pulling capers, which was totally cool until we ended up having to murder a child last week.
Sucks, yo. Been quite a year, though.
Hall of Fame