To ‘better protect himself,’ Walt buys a gun. To keep himself up, Mike drinks a coffee. To allay debilitating murder guilt, Pinkman indulges in a woofer system built from the base components of Paulie’s robot from Rocky 4, invites his friends Bulk & Skull over, and throws the rager to end ragers forever. A rager to end ragers forever consists of intense, poorly-supported discourse on survival horror video games, pizzas that haven’t been subdivided into slices, and DJ Roomba. Pinkman grinds as hard as he can on multiple methheads, and, for a moment, it seems as though everything will work out, Yo-1-800-BITCH Pinkman will come to immediate terms with the awful act he’s perpetrated and won’t plunge into a downward spiral of post-person drug ingestion and crying fits and suicidal ruminations. Things, though, are never what they seem.
Hank has a classic case of mineralist insomnia. Instead of sleeping like a normal person that can walk, he passes the wee hours observing minerals by an unnecessarily bright light he stole from his dentist’s office. To counteract this, Marie wears a sleep mask, partly to help her get much needed rest, partly to blot out the glare coming off how awful her life is. Shrek calls Bryan Cranston for a Festivus Airing of Grievances, but Bryan Cranston isn’t happy about this.
“Were you raised in a barn?” asks the perturbed Bryan Cranston. “You have absolutely ZERO Mob Phone Etiquette. I am HANGING UP.”
“…” says Shrek, and, discouraged, she takes her stoned baby to track the amount of hand waxes performed at a local carwash.
We cut to DJ Roomba Cam. Pinkman’s rager is all raged out, and he has the morning shift at his work that day. Everyone knows Pinkman can be a grouch in the morning/when he’s not on meth and murdered someone yesterday. No one knows this better than Pinkman, and he instructs Bulk & Skull to keep the rager raging. Being methheads, they comply with anything anyone tells them. Text me when you get to work! says DJ Roomba, right before a methhead eviscerates him with a screwdriver.
At work, Pinkman is dutifully weighing their meth tupperware when Walt comes in, late and ready to murder Gus with his well-concealed gat and flawless gat-brandishing motion. Only problem: Gus is going to be working at home on his laptop for the rest of infinity! Walt is pissed. Gus sends his Arrested Development surrogate black person to weigh the meth a second time, just in case Pinkman is stealing meth for his meth parties, which, judging by the amount of meth parties he’s having, he probably is.
Back at Hank’s endless depression session, Hank trains to race Walter Jr., refuses to give Marie a hive-five, then, begrudgingly, gives her a high five. Marie remains sad.
The Mexican teenage store manager from Men of a Certain Age shows up at Pinkman’s rager, having aged ten years and become addicted to meth and un-addicted to meth and had a son named Brock. “Please don’t spend this envelope of fifty thousand dollars on glass, you glass addict.” pleads Pinkman. I can only hope that ‘glass’ in this context refers to ornate, religious stained-glass and not drugs. Brock waves bye-bye. Pinkman waves bye-bye right back.
Entirely insane, Walt drives his Pontiac Aztek to Gus’s McMansion. He puts on his All Business Fedora and psyches himself up to kill Gus. Halfway to the driveway, Gus sexts him and is all, “Turn around. That hat looks ridiculous. You’ll never get past my Eye of Mordor.” Walt turns around, but keeps his hat on.
Marie unpacks minerals. Shrek attempts to buy the carwash from Walt’s old boss. The boss isn’t having it, wants twenty million dollars and says, no one grabs his balls at me. Shrek leaves. Walt takes Mike out for a beer. Mike punches Walt in the face. “This isn’t Shock Top,” Mike says without saying it. “Maybe you should count your blessings, your blessings being that you’re still alive and relatively safe in this netherworld of ceaseless danger,” says Mike without saying it.
Everyone, even Bulk & Skull, leave Pinkman’s rager. “We’re raged out,” says everyone. “Please stay,” says Pinkman. “I cannot be alone with this guilt.” “Seeya!” says everyone. “Time to get emo,” says Pinkman. DJ Roomba (CORRECTION: LIKE THE BOX CUTTER LAST WEEK) remains dead. Pinkman attempts to drown out his telltale heart with rap, and, judging by his frenetic guilt fit, does he ever fail.