BREAKING BAD: BREAKING CHICANERY

CH. 2

3 years later

Saul looked at his night stand’s digital clock, “3:42 AM” it read, fuck, he couldn’t sleep,
although that wasn't particularly new, he had troubles sleeping for a few years now, it started when
she lef-

he did not want to think about it.

He groaned and got up of bed and walked around his house, he didn’t have any real goal,
he just wandered around, looking at his belongings, at what his life had become, nothing but instant
gratification, and that’s what he hoped for, constant action, constant drama, constant Saul Goodman,
so that he would never be left alone with his regrets.

Now, in the dark of the night, they were his only company.

He stepped in front of his balcony’s glass doors and moved the curtains hiding them away,
then opened the doors, without stepping in, he didn’t want to get his feet cold.

The cold night poured into jimmy’s face as he stared upon the dark sky, it wasn't
particularly beautiful, there were some clouds covering the moon and stars, the void was as dark as
ever, and stars were as bright as always.

No, it wasn’t very beautiful, but it reminded of someone who was, Kim, he remembered
looking into the sky with her and talking about what had happened in their days.

He missed that, kim, Howard, mike, fuck, even chuck and bill, he just longed for someone
to be I friend, or even just someone to talk to, Jimmy McGill had that, Saul Goodman did not, his
morale was darker than ever, and it started to show, his hair was “growing” weaker, and was now
becoming BALD.

Just as he started to feel the hot tears rolling in his cheeks, he heard the peculiar sound of
glass being shattered.

- Who the hell is there!? - Saul asked, in shock, being filled with terror of what could be.

however, he got no response other than the silence of the Albuquerque night, and the light
sound of footsteps coming towards him.

Now he felt the true panic fill his mind.

- Look! I don’t know where Ignacio is! I didn’t say anything to Fring I swear! He d- he
forced me to talk! - saul shimmered, walking backwards into the cold balcony.

But the footsteps did not stop.

- I h- I have money! A lot! Please jus – Saul stopped when he felt the balcony’s cold metals
bars touch his back.
 The footsteps did not stop.

- God please – and Saul looked down into the night, would he survive the jump? He did not
know, however, his knees would never forgive him.

- oh my god, oh my god please ah! - Saul Screamed as he put his left leg over the ceiling’s
death prevention bars then just as he was prepared to jump.

- hello Saul – the horrifying and familiar voice came deep from the darkness of the home’s
kitchen, reverberating throughout.

- no, it cant be… you're dead! You’re fucking death god damn it! - Saul yelled in anger, not
this, not again.

- nope, I survived, I escaped the Nazis before and paid some dude named Bryan Cranston to
stand there, HE was the one who died, not me – the villain’s voice answered from the deep.

- ok, ok, but.. why did you come here? I mean, what do you want? I'm not a lawyer any
more, After you died I called it quits and I’ve been drowning in booze – Saul gave the exposition to
both you and Walt in a confused manner.

- That’s the thing Saul – the voice said from the dark sucking Saul in.

then as Walt walked onto the balcony exposing him self to the moon’s light.

- I’m back in the busyness, I need a new partner, jesse is off in Alaska and will never talk to
me again (read ch.1) and I need my lawyer back – Walt said calmly.

this was the first time Saul had seen Walt in a year, and he looked bad, he looked thin and
frail, even older somehow, he was balder too, he now had a Salvador Dali kind of moustache, and
he had an afro to make him look different, so people wouldn't recognize him as Walter white, he
was wearing a pink jacket over a green shirt, and dark long pants, accompanied by white vans
(damn).
- no! no fucking way! I’m never going back in the game again! - Saul yelled madly and
angered, he would never go back to his old ways, it had already cost him everything, he wast
willing to give away what little he had.

- and who said you had a choice? - Walt frowned with no expression as he looked at Saul,
revelling in his evilness.

Saul looked disheartened, but part of him was rejoiced, he didn’t want to be the “amigo del
cartel” but a part of him still yearned for the complete Saul Goodman, the cons, the schemes the
tricks, and that part was making his dick hard.

- ok, I will, but you have to get rid of that fucking afro, and what stupid moustache too, you
hear? - jesse said looking into Walt’s deep eyes in the cold of the night.

- Wha- what’s wrong with my afr- Walt tried to reply.

- you wanna know what's wrong with it? It looks like shit! You’re fucking balding on all
sides and you want to grow an afro? I dedicated my life to hair! You cant slip in like a cheap pair of
slipper! You have to know I’m right! - Saul rambled on for a few more minutes about how Walt’s
hair and moustache fucking sucked.

- o- ok, I’ll.. get a haircut, and I will let my goatee grow back, ok? Is that good? - Walt
pleaded with tears in his eyes, he really did love that afro, after faking his death with the nazis he
had moved to Louisiana and had made friends with a barber named Emiliano tortellini, their
friendship had grown over the year he had lived there, but it all ended when Emiliano found out
Walt (who had been going by the name tlaw) was the famous Heisenbeg, Walt had run off the town
in shame, but Emiliano's advice to grow an afro had stuck with him.

- yes, it is – Saul replied emotionless.

Then the two men stared into each other, knowing that they were back on the game, every
choice in your life puts you on a road, and now, Saul was hostage of the mad driver Walter White,
who was going down meth-selling road into crime avenue, and Jimmy despised him for it, but Saul
Goodman couldn’t be happier about it.

And so Walt set off, leaving Saul alone to his thoughts again, in the moon’s light in his
balcony, in a cold Albuquerque night.

END OF CHAPTER 2