WITHOUT REGRET
During Season Five, Jesse's getting the evil eye from Skylar and he suddenly snaps. Please comment nicely!
"Vamanos." Jesse Pinkman pointed to the logo on the truck as he shyly greeted Mrs. White inside the Car Wash. He knew she wasn't so crazy about hiding the chemicals here. He wanted her to see they had a front, a respectable business, that things were like, as legitimate as they could be.
"I wish."
For a minute Jesse just looked at the beautiful older woman, taking in the look in her eyes. It was like a dead look, but more cold and empty than the eyes of a dead person. Jesse knew a few things about how dead people really looked.
"Excuse me?" asked the young man with the shaved head.
"Jesse, let's finish up the job," Walter White said nervously. But his hothead associate brushed him aside.
"Is this like, an inconvenience for you, Mrs. White? Are we imposing on you? Do you feel like you're getting a bad deal here?"
"You're a criminal," Skylar White said, in her prissy little voice. "You're trash."
"I'm the trash that, like, puts food on your table, bitch! I'm the trash that's seen your husband like, beat up and bleeding because he wanted to keep you in designer dresses and tampons! Your husband! My like, chemistry teacher! A guy who never broke the law until, like, a year ago. I've seen him go up against guys twice his size, and beat hell out of them. I've seen him walk into a room full of Mexican drug dealers and like, back them down. All for you, bitch!"
"Jesse!" Walter White shouted his partner's name. But it was too late. Jesse Pinkman had the classy blonde down on the floor of the Car Wash. His hands locked around Skylar's throat, and he was choking the life out of her. Jesse's face was red, and he was drooling, almost foaming at the mouth.
"Bitch," he kept snarling. "Phony bitch. What the hell makes you better than me? Because you look the other way when your husband comes home beat up and bloody? You don't give a shit. You're like some plantation lady who has no idea where the cotton is coming from. It doesn't grow itself, bitch!"
Just then the roar of a pistol shattered the atmosphere. Jesse's headless corpse slumped wetly to the floor, while Skylar White made delicate little choking noises.
"I had to kill him," Walter White mumbled, staring at his own smoking pistol in disbelief. "Skylar, I just killed my best friend. He was more than a partner. He was like a son!"
"He was trying to kill me," Skylar choked out, in a whimper. "Your best friend was trying to kill me."
"Oh, I see," Walter said. "This isn't about Jesse and me. This is about you. It's always about you, isn't it Skylar? You're the victim here, always."
Walt raised his pistol again and fired, this time without regret.