Dedicated to my great-grandmother. You are one of the most incredible women in my life. I thank you.
Give 'Em the Ol' Razzle Dazzle
1998
When Jesse Pinkman entered the Eden Manor Nursing Home, he didn't exactly prepare himself for what's next.
He blames his aunt; after Jesse vandalized an ornery old man's home after an altercation, he's forced to do five months community service by caring for an ornery old man lest he wants serious jail time. His aunt suggested it and even assigned who he was supposed to care for.
He wishes she'd die of a mysterious cancer for suggesting such a cruel and unusual punishment.
He walks in the doors and is blown away by the smell; piss, Ben-Gay, and mothballs are scents that should never mix. Once the smell passes, it is the sight that disturbs him. It's something out of a horror movie for middle-aged adults: men and women sitting in wheelchairs, their eyes blank and unseeing. Some are playing checkers, draped in bathrobes that haven't been washed for weeks. Creepily calm elevator music plays as these poor folks are moaning, crying, requesting for the loved ones that threw them away. When their lifeless eyes stare at Jesse, he wants to book it and never look back.
But, like the growing man he is, he swallows his pride and stands at attention, defiantly staring down any onlookers with his trademark scowl.
"Hey, you gonna stand there like an asshole or are you going to do something useful, punk?"
Jesse whips his head around and is amused to see who he was looking for.
He sat in a wheelchair, checkered blanket draped over his lap, hands cupping a lighter and a cheaply wrapped cigarette. He lights up, takes a smoke, and blows it in Jesse's face. He smiles a mischievous smile meant for schoolboys who peeks up dresses. His hair is stark white but slicked back with grease and his wrinkled face made his bright green eyes sparkle.
Jesse looked closely at the name tag perched on the man's bathrobe.
BILLY FLYNN. AGE: Unknown
He's found who he's looking for.