P U S S Y I N B I O

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Coca Cola! Coca Cola, don't forget the ice! And, I'm not making money off the monkey for ♥♥♥♥♥! So imma sell clocks, ♥♥♥♥♥! ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ clocks, look at this ancient ass clock here. This ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ clock here is nice, you need to ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ tell the time and everything. God ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥... Damn! What happened to my ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ clock ♥♥♥♥♥!? Imma be broke! Why!? Help! 𝒢𝑜𝒹 𝓂𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓃 𝒹𝒶𝒶𝒶𝒶𝒶𝒶𝒶𝒶𝓂𝓃𝓃

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My name is Walter Hartwell White. I live at 308 Negra Arroyo Lane, Albuquerque, New Mexico, 87104. This is my confession. If you're watching this tape, I'm probably dead, murdered by my brother-in-law Hank Schrader. Hank has been building a meth empire for over a year now and using me as his chemist. Shortly after my 50th birthday, Hank came to me with a rather, shocking proposition. He asked that I use my chemistry knowledge to cook methamphetamine, which he would then sell using his connections in the drug world. Connections that he made through his career with the DEA. I was... astounded, I... I always thought that Hank was a very moral man and I was... thrown, confused, but I was also particularly vulnerable at the time, something he knew and took advantage of. I was reeling from a cancer diagnosis that was poised to bankrupt my family. Hank took me on a ride along, and showed me just how much money even a small meth operation could make.

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