Chaper One: Death Bad

Walt could feel the stress in the wrinkles in his forehead. The moist, sticky beads of sweat coated his brow. That son of a bitch, Hank, had gone too far this time. Before Hank knew, everything was fine. He essentially posed no existential threat to Walt - or his business. But now, the game's changed. Hank had thrown his balls into the court. Walt knew he had to reach Skyler somehow, to let her know what was going on, but first, he had to deal with Hank. He dialed Saul, his fingers soaked in sweat, sliding across the numbers. What Walt really needed was that new Iphone 4. That shit was the motherfucking bomb. But with the Government regulations and such, he knew that that was one aspect of a rich, luxurious lifestyle that he simply could not indulge in. Days before, Saul made a certain comment about sending Hank to Belize. Walt may have been skeptical at the time, to say the least, but he knew now that this was simply the perfect timing for Hank's tropical vacation.

"Saul?" Walt said.

"Hello, hello? Who's calling this number?" Walt heard in response, realizing that his sweat coated fingers had accidentally pressed the mute microphone option. He frantically unmuted his microphone.

"Saul! We need to talk. Now." Walt said with a growling tone.

"No dice, soldier, I'm in a bit of a pickle with a client right now. How about tomorrow at 5?" Saul replied, with the same sarcastic tone as always.

"You've got 3 minutes," Walt said before hanging up the phone. Walt tossed the phone on the floor of his car as he put his sweat-coated hand back on the steering wheel, which was now dripping. Walt sped up to a traffic light, before a bus full of elderly women pulled in front of him and the light turned red. Walt frantically honked his horn, yelling "Come on!" as the bus refused to budge and the old women gawked at him.

Filled with rage and coated in sweat, Walt put his car in reverse. He backed up just enough to put room for his car to gain speed and paused for a moment. Those bitches need to move. He shifted gears and rammed the bus, causing his car to jerk and smack his head against his steering wheel. Walt looked up, and noticed the bus had still not moved. Now he was really pissed.

Opening his car door, he stepped out and looked at the damage his car had done to the bus. It definitely was not 99.1% damaged like he would have hoped, but his car was definitely totalled. Now he was really in trouble. He pushed his car to the side of the road, then opened his car door and grabbed his cell phone. He dialed Jesse's number.

"What, bitch?" Jesse said the second he answered.

"Listen, Jesse, I need you, right now. I'm on Douglass Avenue. I-" Walter was interrupted as his phone fizzed out. His sweat had enveloped his phone so much in the dank mix that the phone was no longer usable. Walt screamed out, and almost went into another laughing fit as Jessie's car pulled up.

"Jesse, listen. I need you to take my car to some autoshop - get it fixed up. I'll cover the cost of the damages, just please-

"Yo, what the hell is going on here, man? How did you, uh-"

"JESSE!"

"Okay, fine, bitch! I'll do it!"

"Good. And, uhh, also, I'm going to need a ride to Saul's."

Huell's gaze was fixated on her. I bet her asshole tastes like peanut butter cups. Like lemon hot cheetos. Like italian sausage flavored lays potato chips. Like pizza lunchables. Like a kitkat bar. God, what I wouldn't do to have my tongue 2 inches deep in her shitter.

Suddenly, the glass window into the building shattered all at once. That one fella, the cuck, had burst straight through the window. He stood up and marched his way towards Saul's office door.

"OPEN THE DOOR SAUL! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE! I CAN HEAR YOU!" Walter screamed. Huell intervened slowly, moving over to Walter as his daytime fantasies were put on hold.

"Whats the rush?" Huell asks.

"NOT GONNA COME OUT!? ALRIGHT, FINE, PLAN B!" Walt screamed after only a second of silence, picking up the plant next to Saul's door. Saul quickly opened his office door to greet Walt.

"Hey, what are you doing out here, American Psycho!? You just trashed my lobby. You're gonna pay for that!" Saul bickered. Walt didn't hear a word of what Saul said.

"Saul, Hank's onto me. He needs to d-... I mean, he needs to go to Belize," Walt said, calming himself down as the sweat solidified and coated his skin in a sticky residue.

"Come in," Saul said, waiting for Walt to enter his office and then closing the door behind him, giving them some much needed privacy.

"Alright, so... Belize is not currently an option. My guy's in jail. But-"

"But WHAT!?" Walter exclaimed at Saul.

"But, I may have something else. Now, this is the last resort. This cannot be abused under any circumstances. Are you absolutely 100% sure you want to go through with this?"

"Yes. I need him dead, NOW." Walter slammed his fist down on Saul's table. The solidified sweat now began to liquify again as his body temperature heated beyond its normal capacity. Saul opened one of his desk drawers and pulled an envelope, you know one of them big orange thangs, out. It had something inside of it.

"Now, do not open that until you get home," Saul said cautiously.

"What do you mean? What the hell is this, Saul? Is this some kind of JOKE!?" Walt said, speedwalking across the room to Saul's location and grabbing Saul by his suit.

"No, no! Just open it up when you get home and it'll all make sense! And careful with my suit, man, it's Gucci." Walt let go of Saul's suit.

"If this is all some kind of tomfoolery... A prank, the kids call it... Hank won't be the only one going on vacation." Walt spoke coldly as he walked out of Saul's office, stepping on little pieces of glass on the way out as he hopped out the window yet again.

Walt opened the door to his house and entered to find that he was alone. Finally, he would be able to spend some time alone without his bitch wife complaining about the millions of dollars he'd made for his family or his crippled son getting in the way of things. He sat down on his couch in front of the TV, and opened up the envelope. He reached inside to find a small black notebook, with the words DEATH NOTE written across it.

"Is this some kind of..." Walt was unable to finish his sentence as he looked up and saw a seven foot monster standing above his coffee table. Walter screamed like he'd seen a mouse. In all the excitement, he was forced to release his bowels after turtling for the past hour.