Gus Fring sat in patience. His name was Gus Fring.
"She is running late.", he said. Michael Ehrmantraut slowly turned his head in acknowledgement of the sudden announcement, but said nothing of it. He knew his place.
The two would stay in silence until the representative arrived. Although it was strange that they were meeting the representative in Hawaii of all places, it was strange that they were meeting the representative at all. A prominent figure of Madrigal Electromotive reinforced the point that they wanted to appraise the progress of Fring's meth business after several late shipments had run late—the visitation an occurrence typically few and far between. Due to the mutual relationship between the two parties a sense of security lingered over the idea of the event and so Gus felt comfortable with only Mike's presence.
"Michael," Gus started to speak again, "you are a funny man. Say something funny."
Michael furrowed his brow, but before he could say anything, a raspy voice announced itself at the door in foreign tongue. Michael looked towards his boss before advancing the situation. With a nod from Gus, Michael approached and opened the door. A man and a woman stood at the door with indifferent expressions. They made their way to opposite sides of the room, where they would have easy firing trajectory to both men; this was a needless precaution. A new silence began to stir. It would be a minute more before the representative herself made it to the room. Gus glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes till the hour. The next batch of meth would be finishing soon. Or else a demonstration would have to be planned. Mr. White and Pinkman did not seem to understand the scale of the operation they played a role in, that a general manager of an international company was coming to discuss the setback the two had caused.
The batch was not finishing soon. Walt and Jesse were dickin around trying to kill a fly.
Noises of bustling crowds poured in from the ajar door, a reminder to all in the room that no verbal conflict could be had.
At last, the door squeaked open as the general manager of Madrigal and President of HKTT strolled into the room, beaming as always.
Fring rose from his seat to shake her hand as she approached the table, "A pleasure, Ms. Tsumugi."