#6. Uncle Jack
As far as Nazis go, Uncle Jack is an A1 family man. (I love this show.) He and his cronies already buried two DEA agents — what’s stopping him from throwing a former-chemistry teacher into the freshly dug hole, too? The Good-Time Gang got what they wanted: Walt’s money. His nephew, that’s what. Todd respects, even admires Mr. White, which is why Jack leaves Walt with a barrel of cash totaling approximately $11 million. His decision made out of loyalty to his family could come back to kick him in the ass, though, if my final episode theory (TL;DR: Walt uses the guns on the Nazis, Jesse kills Walt) proves true. Until then, Jack’s good to go, with Jesse as his prisoner.
The Skyler hate has gotten to the point where I’m afraid to search her name on Twitter. Walt’s the hero, she’s the dumb, ugly bitch who ruins everything. (No wonder the “shut up, c*nt” scene from Dexter was uploaded to YouTube by “AllHeil Heisenberg.”) But Skyler once again shamed the haters: instead of passively falling for Walt’s bullsh*t, she, framed in horror movie light, grabbed a knife to protect herself and her kids from the unrecognizable monster standing in front of her. Yet she was also seeing the real Walt for the first time in months — he’s not her business partner, let alone her husband; he’s a murderer, plain and simple — and when Marie made her tell Flynn everything, she realized that she was no better. She had fallen under his indefensible spell, but no longer. “Why would you go along?”, Flynn asked. “I’ll be asking myself that for the rest of my life.”
LET THE FLYNN HIT THE FLOOR LET THE FLYNN HIT THE FLOOR LET THE FLYNN HIT THE FLOOOORRRR. Did the scene where the former Walt Jr. (disassociating himself from his namesake was a wise move in hindsight) attacks his dad, protects his mom with a well-placed arm shield, and dials 911 give R.J. Mitte the courage to throw a ballin’ birthday party? I’m going to say: yes.
#3. THIS DOG
No worries, no cares. I wonder if he knows the Departed rat?
And in the end, Hank couldn’t even sadly limp his way out of a room — he had to crawl, on the roof of his eventual coffin, to a gun that he never reached. Not that it would have mattered if he had: he was outnumbered, both by Nazis and in bullets. But the reason he’s so high is because unlike Walt, who believes he can think his way out of any situation, Hank knew he was done for the second Gomie was hit. No amount of money, no number of I’ll-never-tell promises, was going to save him: he was a dead man crawling, and he took it like a man. “You can go f*ck yourself.”
Points off for being a corpse, though.
#1. Then Jesse
Those ninja-kicking, George Michael Bluth-lightsabering movies? Pretty badass.
I want more like this!
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