A bakery, laser tag, if it gets you laundering your money, I'll take it.
[Look, if your money isn't properly folded in, you're making it harder for the rest of them, Jesse!!! It's important for Saul, to keep his own tracks clear, and for Jesse, so that the manufacturer money can keep flowing. Everyone wins, and the IRS gets their taxes and has no need to investigate further.
But still, he scoffs, shaking his head at Jesse's dismissal of the nail salon once again. A no to the nail salon, a no to the laser tag, no one sees his broader vision here. (And if the broader vision also helps a few other friends and clients, well, who could blame him there)]
You just didn't see the broader picture of the nail salon. Free pedicures, and think of how popular you'll be with all your hot babes out there.
[But they aren't here to talk business, not at the moment--even if Saul will probably still add this to his billable hours--and that's driven home by a sharp knock at his office's back door. Getting to his feet, Saul checks to see who's there (safety reflex, after all), and opens the door for Huell, carrying two large bags full of Taco Cabeza's finest. He slips Huell a $50 for the tacos and his troubles, and with a promise that he'll give him a call later, shuts the door.]
I left the decision making to him. Between the three of us, I think he knows the menu best.
Laser tag. [ He scoffs. ] Still can't believe those places are still around.
[ To be fair, Saul, you were supposed to pawn off the laser tag place to Mr. White. Jesse might have been down except now it's forever tied to one of the worst days of his entire life (and the last day of Gale Boetticher's life). It's a non-option. A bakery, though...]
Dude. Ain't no way I'm bein' caught dead in one of those chairs.
[ Jesse's about to make some comment about how all those 'hot babes' will probably just assume he's gay, but there's a knock on the door just as he goes to open his mouth. He steels himself momentarily, hoping that it isn't Walt about to barge in and ruin their fun. He swears the guy's got some kind of radar for that. Always pissing on everyone's parade. It isn't. Jesse says a silent thanks to whatever deity might be responsible for that, raising a hand in a greeting gesture as Huell wanders in to deposit the tacos and whatever other goodies he's procured. Jesse shrugs off his hoodie and rubs his hands together. He's already hungry and it'll be a little while before the brownies kick in. ]
Hell yeah, I'd trust him to grab food for me.
[ Jesse nods. He may not feel the same about Huell in the future, but he's a good guy in his eyes for now. He grabs the parchment paper that covers the brownies and sets it in front of himself, then slides the Tupperware lid across the desk in front of Saul's chair. ]
Makeshift plates, yo. Gotta improvise. What'd he bring?
[ He asks, brows raising as Saul sets the paper bags down. ]
Laser tag offers one-of-a-kind experiences at an affordable price! Where else can you spawn camp and destroy a team of eight year olds?
[Has he done this? It's very likely, back in his Slippin' Jimmy days, or even before everything went downhill for Jimmy McGill. These days, laser tag is too much running and crouching for him and his bad knees.
His tone is less convinced, though, more dismissive of what he himself is saying, because they have more important business here. Namely: tacos. He piles the boxes on his desk while he speaks, popping them open as he goes to see what's there. Most of the tacos and burritos are slathered with cheese and sauce and far too messy to identify what's in them.]
He's got something written on the side here, but hell if I can make it out. I got a jar of antacids if you want. Looking at it, we might need it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
zvi
no subject
Date: 2023-11-22 05:59 am (UTC)[Look, if your money isn't properly folded in, you're making it harder for the rest of them, Jesse!!! It's important for Saul, to keep his own tracks clear, and for Jesse, so that the manufacturer money can keep flowing. Everyone wins, and the IRS gets their taxes and has no need to investigate further.
But still, he scoffs, shaking his head at Jesse's dismissal of the nail salon once again. A no to the nail salon, a no to the laser tag, no one sees his broader vision here. (And if the broader vision also helps a few other friends and clients, well, who could blame him there)]
You just didn't see the broader picture of the nail salon. Free pedicures, and think of how popular you'll be with all your hot babes out there.
[But they aren't here to talk business, not at the moment--even if Saul will probably still add this to his billable hours--and that's driven home by a sharp knock at his office's back door. Getting to his feet, Saul checks to see who's there (safety reflex, after all), and opens the door for Huell, carrying two large bags full of Taco Cabeza's finest. He slips Huell a $50 for the tacos and his troubles, and with a promise that he'll give him a call later, shuts the door.]
I left the decision making to him. Between the three of us, I think he knows the menu best.
no subject
Date: 2023-11-26 12:27 am (UTC)[ To be fair, Saul, you were supposed to pawn off the laser tag place to Mr. White. Jesse might have been down except now it's forever tied to one of the worst days of his entire life (and the last day of Gale Boetticher's life). It's a non-option. A bakery, though...]
Dude. Ain't no way I'm bein' caught dead in one of those chairs.
[ Jesse's about to make some comment about how all those 'hot babes' will probably just assume he's gay, but there's a knock on the door just as he goes to open his mouth. He steels himself momentarily, hoping that it isn't Walt about to barge in and ruin their fun. He swears the guy's got some kind of radar for that. Always pissing on everyone's parade. It isn't. Jesse says a silent thanks to whatever deity might be responsible for that, raising a hand in a greeting gesture as Huell wanders in to deposit the tacos and whatever other goodies he's procured. Jesse shrugs off his hoodie and rubs his hands together. He's already hungry and it'll be a little while before the brownies kick in. ]
Hell yeah, I'd trust him to grab food for me.
[ Jesse nods. He may not feel the same about Huell in the future, but he's a good guy in his eyes for now. He grabs the parchment paper that covers the brownies and sets it in front of himself, then slides the Tupperware lid across the desk in front of Saul's chair. ]
Makeshift plates, yo. Gotta improvise. What'd he bring?
[ He asks, brows raising as Saul sets the paper bags down. ]
no subject
Date: 2023-12-08 05:36 am (UTC)[Has he done this? It's very likely, back in his Slippin' Jimmy days, or even before everything went downhill for Jimmy McGill. These days, laser tag is too much running and crouching for him and his bad knees.
His tone is less convinced, though, more dismissive of what he himself is saying, because they have more important business here. Namely: tacos. He piles the boxes on his desk while he speaks, popping them open as he goes to see what's there. Most of the tacos and burritos are slathered with cheese and sauce and far too messy to identify what's in them.]
He's got something written on the side here, but hell if I can make it out. I got a jar of antacids if you want. Looking at it, we might need it.