Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

They need to be a higher standard. They have a responsibility.
Oh, my dear God.
...but I don't think either of us...
You getting exposure on those wounds?
Any time you got that close proximity to the spine...
Are you accusing me?
Walter White to the nearest courtesy phone.
Me neither.
Hey, you like Pollos Hermanos?
Burn in hell, you piece of shit.
- We were just swapping Hank stories. - That could go on all day.
Well, keep me apprised.
You are not welcome here.
Honey, this isn't helping you.
For the most part.
And we've been playing catch-up ever since.
- Yeah. - Yeah?
Appears pale and diaphoretic. How many entry wounds?
- Good, huh? - Delicious.
They shot him four times.
And the whole time, all I could think about was:
Dr. Bording to Cardiology.
Just put a clock on it for me.
Jazz -Jazz- yes
Let's get him 2 grams of oxygen.
I'll walk him out. Be right back.
- Still nothing. - All right, stopping compressions.
He heard what happened. He's gonna feed every cop in the building.
At what? This. These spots.
It could be in relation to a investigation Hank was working...
...and the others find out what you've done...
Tell me you see this. You've got good eyes. Look at that.
That's dirt.
Yeah. Right.
Yeah. Yeah. I remember seeing him on the news.
You're upset, and you're looking for someone to blame...
His cousins.
Yeah, well, it's, you know, guardedly good news.
Four. Shoulder and hip, through and through.
- Classical. - Exactly.
Got the painkillers going on, resting comfortably.
- Really? - Our fund run, couple of months ago.
- Makes no sense.
...or is it just me?
Food's here.
That was their one shot and they blew it.