No buckles; all Pontiac Aztek. Bryan Cranston is peeved, and he’s driving peeved (BPoFD Driving Tip: Don’t let your feelings drive you when you’re driving your Pontiac Aztek. You drive your Pontiac Aztek. If God intended feelings to have Pontiac Azteks there’d be tiny GM’s set atop the hyperborean regions of our hearts, churning out Azteks.) En route to Church’s Chicken, Bryan Cranston breaks every rule Mr. Oliver taught him in Driver’s Ed. He texts while driving, talks on the phone while driving, reaches under the seat while driving, doesn’t wear his seatbelt while driving, leaves endearingly frantic confessions of love and familial loyalty to Shrek while driving. Bryan Cranston drives like he lives: recklessly.
A: Because his meth sou-chef is in danger, that’s why!
Pinkman has been abducted, and, destitute even considering a world without Pinkman yo’s and Pinkman wadup’s, Bryan Cranston is going to shoot Gus in the middle of Church’s Chicken. Walt asks the counter girl if Gus is in. She says no. Walt asks twelve more times. She nos him twelve times and says he can sit and wait if he so wishes has he considered trying their new chupacabra chicken? No thank you, Walt says, sitting. As he waits, Walt spots a morbidly obese member of The New Lost Generation of American Post-Grads and realizes, everyone is a threat. Coming alone wasn’t the best idea. Fried Chicken is an experience that’s meant to be shared.
Mike calls. “Oh, heylo, Mike! I was just thinking about you!” Walt says. “Pinkman is fine,” says Mike. “That’s a relief,” says Walt. “Yo, yo, yo, wadup,” says Pinkman, and again all is right with this upturned world, or, is it? Bryan Cranston doesn’t believe so. He believes his best plan of action is to burst into Church’s Chicken’s Counting Room and ‘blow Gus’s brains out.’ Only there’s no Gus! Told you, says Counter Girl. You did, huffs and puffs Bryan Cranston.
Mike takes Pinkman to an exclusive couple’s retreat on an blasted expanse of wasteland. Pinkman is ecstatic. “I’ll slice your ear off!” Pinkman says, grinning wildly. Shovel, Mike says by pulling out a shovel. He walks across the plain and digs up a poorly-buried bag lunch. Inside is everyone’s favorite childhood lunch: HUNDROS. Mike doesn’t share.
Hank’s friend from his previous life of not being worthless is visiting to ask Hank about Gale’s Trapper Keeper. “Are you going to help me or are you going to keep grousing forever.” “Grouse, grouse, grouse,” says Hank, crossing his arms.
Pinkman decides he is Mike’s ‘muscle.’ Mike finds this adorable and cues an equally adorable road trip montage set to Devendra Banhart’s “Carmensita,” which is a song about the woman living inside me that yearns to get out.
Walt and Shrek have a ‘sitdown’ with their lawyer to finalize the purchase of the carwash. Shrek isn’t sure about this. What she is sure about is that endearingly frantic voicemails make her wet as a geyser. It’s time for Shrex. Her and Walt have Shrex. Afterwards, they lay side-by-side, feeling the post-coital bliss leave their bodies in kind, rising waves. Shrek, like a typical broad, immediately starts GFing Bryan Cranston, hard. “I think you should move in, I’ve set up a double date with us and Marie and Handicapped Hank, do you think about me when you’re not with me, I’m so FAT, but I’m excited to embark on this new adventure, together.” “I have to go to work,” says Bryan Cranston and entire male population of the Earth.
Walt can’t drive a forklift. Luckily, replicant Gus can.
Turns out, Pinkman and Mike are running drug dealer errands, which entail removing bags of money from the ground, air ducts, abandoned Nine Inch Nails music video sets. On the last errand of the night, as Mike makes the ‘pick up,’ Pinkman spots someone in the rearview mirror. It’s Hobo with a Shotgun! Letting his adrenaline take over, Pinkman transforms into Pinkman with a Buick La Sabre.
He goes to run the guy over. The guy dodges the La Sabre. Mike gets away with the loot. Pinkman has entirely assuaged his murder guilt with reverse hero guilt. To celebrate, he picks up Mike at Taco Bell and, in return, Mike lets him smoke a black and mild in the La Sabre. “You earned it,” Mike says by staring.
Junior loves black coffee almost as much as he loves having his daddy home again! No longer need he blame his parents’ divorce on his handicap. Now, Junior can live. He can drink black coffee until his teeth turn onyx and fall joyously from his mouth. “I have to go to work,” Walt says. At work, Pinkman is back hammering meth ice, so proud of himself. Walt senses fishiness, which is justified, as we learn that the entire ‘attack’ on Pinkman was a psychological short con by Gus to ‘even Pinkman out.’
In response, Walt gets stinko at Marie’s luncheon and, to inject purpose back into Hank’s purposeless life, reignites Hank’s interest in the Hisenberg case. Hisenberg being Walt, and Hank being new Hank, galvanized, revitalized, no longer sequestering himself in his mineral lab, asking the question of questions, “Since when do vegans eat fried chicken?”
Spoiler: They don’t. Vegans don’t eat fried chicken.