Baking Badly - A Breaking Bad Story

Book I - Jesse's Descent to Krispy Kreme

It was a common toasty day in the barrens of the Albuquerque desert. Walter and Jesse took the regular precautions to do their cooking far away from civilization. The isolated location was perfect for seclusion, but unfortunately this meant hours upon hours of alone time between the pair.

"yo mistah white, when the fuck is the meth gonna be done. We've been here for atleast uhhhh." Jesse checks his wrist to see a faint sharpie drawing of a watch. "like fuckin'.... two days... I don't know......... bitch."

Walter makes a peculiar grunting noise that Jesse has come to learn indicates either resentment or sexual frustration. "Jesse, perfection takes time. You can never rush a chemists pursuit towards complete empirical excellence."

"Shut the fuck up you old hag I have nineties to crank on fortnite" Jesse whined out as he laid down on the floor of the raggedy RV. "Also it's like, a bajillian degrees in here, I'm sweating my fucking taint off."

Jesse's continuous whining has become background noise to Walter at this point. But on this particular evening, he couldn't help but see some truth in Jesse's statement. 

"yes Jesse, it is as you would say 'hotter that a motherfucker up in this bitch' today, but there's nothing we can do about it. Go make some business calls to those crackhead rehab escapists you call your friends."

"Mistah whiiiite, can't you agree we both deserve a bit of a little treat today? I'm taking our racks and I'm going to krispy kreme. Their donuts are straight bussin' no cap. My tummy has been god damn rumbly every since my junior whopper went missing earlier."

"Jesse don't be ridiculous, we're in the middle of nowhere. How on gods earth do you expect to find a krispy kreme out here?"

Jesse knew this was his moment to strike. "uhh yea, that's exactly what I thought you'd say old man. Consider this you fucking corpse: grubhub." Jesse whips out his hello kitty phone from his pocket. He swipes away various tinder notifications from his lock screen. They were all from Walter the night before anyway. "Fucking hell" Jesse thinks to himself "Old mans gotta stop getting wasted."

Upon an attempted grubhub order of various delectable little treats, Jesses saved card info declines repeatedly. "uhhhhh mistuh white, what the fuck happened to our stacks upon racks of ice on my wrist yuh?"

Walter turned his head in disappointment for his own actions. "Jesse, you know how poor our finances have been as of late. I really thought this new alternative crypto coin would be the one to triple our earnings. But alas, I suppose not."

"no problemo señor White" Jesse says in a Mexican accent for no reason imaginable. "I will take our glock, and I will run up on the opps myself. Pass me the razer scooter."

Walter gets off the razer scooter and hands it to Jesse. "Well, I do suppose it is no longer my turn on the razer scooter, you may do with it as you please."

"Uhhh yea, whatevah you say you old prune." The door slams behind Jesse as he exits the RV. "fucking beta male" he thinks to himself before riding his scooter into the afternoon heat of the desert.

Walter continues his cook within the RV. "Thank the heavens that frail unscrupulous boy is out of my sight" he mumbles to himself. "Now that I am alone, I can finally break bad" Walter says as he places his fedora onto his bald head. He takes his blue gloves off his sweaty fingers and steps away from the task at hand. Walter opens the RV mini fridge to reveal a junior whopper waiting to be devoured. "Finally" Walter exclaims and also squirms a little bit. "I can become my alter ego: Heisenburger."