Hey, you’ve got weasels on your face
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. And I was weak. I didn’t want my family to go into financial ruin so I agreed. Every day, I think back at that moment with regret. I quickly realized that I was in way over my head, and Hank had a partner, a man named Gustavo Fring, a businessman. Hank essentially sold me into servitude to this man, and when I tried to quit, Fring threatened my family. I didn’t know where to turn. Eventually, Hank and Fring had a falling out. From what I can gather, Hank was always pushing for a greater share of the business, to which Fring flatly refused to give him, and things escalated. Fring was able to arrange, uh I guess I guess you call it a “hit” on my brother-in-law, and failed, but Hank was seriously injured, and I wound up paying his medical bills which amounted to a little over $177,000. Upon recovery, Hank was bent on revenge, working with a man named Hector Salamanca, he plotted to kill Fring, and did so. In fact, the bomb that he used was built by me, and he gave me no option in it. I have often contemplated suicide, but I’m a coward. I wanted to go to the police, but I was frightened. Hank had risen in the ranks to become the head of the Albuquerque DEA, and about that time, to keep me in line, he took my children from me. For 3 months he kept them. My wife, who up until that point, had no idea of my criminal activities, was horrified to learn what I had done, why Hank had taken our children. We were scared. I was in Hell, I hated myself for what I had brought upon my family. Recently, I tried once again to quit, to end this nightmare, and in response, he gave me this. I can’t take this anymore. I live in fear every day that Hank will kill me, or worse, hurt my family. I… All I could think to do was to make this video in hope that the world will finally see this man, for what he really is.
Well way back when I was just an itty bitty boy living in a box under the stairs in the corner of the basement of the house half a block down the street form Jerry’s Bait Shop (you know the place), well anyway back hen life was goin swell and everything was juuuust PEACHY. Except of course for the undeniable fact that every single morning my mother would feed me a big ol bowl of sauerkraut for breakfast. AHH, a big bowl of sauerkraut! Every single morning! So I says to my mom, I says “hey mom, what’s up with all the sauerkraut?” And my dear sweet mother, she just looked at me like a cow looks at an oncoming train, and she leans right down next to me, and she says “IT"S GOOD FOR YOU!” And then she tied me to a wall and stuck a funnel in my mouth and force fed me nothing but sauerkraut until I was 26 and a half years old. That’s when I swore that one day, one day I would get out of that basement and travel to a magical faraway place where the sun is always shining, and the air smells like warm root beer, and the towels are oh so fluffy. Where the Shriners and the lepers play their ukeleles all day long, and anyone on the street will gladly shave your back for a nickle. Well let me tell you folks, it wasn’t long at all before my dream came true. Because the very next day this local radio station had this contest to see who could correctly guess the number of molecules in Leonard Nimoy’s butt. I was off by 3. But I still won the grand prize: that’s right, a first-class once-way ticket to AAAAAAAAALBUQUERQUE!
Since we are all people of taste, I don’t know how many of you are familiar with the inspiration for Albuquerque, but it had been a while since I heard it. Listened earlier this week and was shocked at how directly it referenced the original.
Where’s the rest of it? Don’t leave us hanging.
You know I’d never been on a real airplane before, and I gotta tell ya it was pretty great. Except that I had to sit between two incredibly large Albanian women with excruciatingly sever body odor. And the little kid in back of me kept throwin up the whole time. And the in flight movie was Bio-Dome with Pauly Shore. Oh and three of the airplane engines burned out and we went into a tailspin and we crashed into a hillside and the plane exploded in a huge fireball and everybody died. Except for me, you know why? Cause I had my tray table up and my seatback in the full upright position.
I had my tray table up and my seatback in he full upright position.
So I crawled from the twisted burning wreckage. I crawled on my hands and knees for three whole days and nigts, draggin along my big leather suitcase and my garment bag, and my tenor saxophone, and my 12-pound bowling ball, and my lucky lucky glow in the dark autographed snorkel. But finally I arrived at the world famous Albuquerque Holiday Inn, where the towls are oh so fluffy, and you can eat your soup right outta the ashtrays if you wanna. It’s okay, they’re clean.
So I checked into my room and I turned down the AC and I turned on the SpectroVision, and I was just about to eat the little chocolate mint on my pillow that I love so very much when suddenly there’s this knock at the door. And I’m like “who is it?” No answer. “Who is iiiit?” No answer… “WHO IS IT?!” They’re not sayin anything! So finally I go over to the door, and jsut as I suspected there’s this big fat hermaphrodite with a Flock of Seagulls haircut and only one nostril. Man, I hate it when I’m right. So he busts into my room and he grabs my lucky snorkel and I’m like “hey you can’t have that” and he’s like “tough” and I’m like “give it” and he’s like “make me” and I’m like “…k”. So I grabbed his leg and he grabbed my esophogous and I bit off his ear and he chewed off my eyebrow and I ripped out his appendix and he gave me colonic irrigation. Yes indeed you better beleieve it. And somewhere in the middle of it all the phone got knocked off the hook, and 30 seconds later I heard a familiar voice saying “if you’d like to make a call, please hang up and try again. If you need help hang up and then dial the operator.”
“If you’d like to make a call please hang up and try again. If you need help hang up and then dial the operator”
In AAAAAAAAALBUQUERQUE! AAAAAAAAALBUQUERQUE!
Well to cut a long story short he got away with my snorkel, but I made a solemn vow right then and there that I would not rest, I would not sleep for an instant until the one-nostriled man was brought to justice. But first I decided to but some donuts. So I got in my car and I drove over to the donut shop and I walked on up to the guy behind the counter and he says “yeah whaddaya want?” and I’m like “you have any glazed donuts?” and he says “no we’re out of glazed donuts” so I’m like “you have any jelly donuts?” and he says “no we’re out of jelly donuts” so I’m like “you have any Bavarian cream filled donuts?” and he says “no we’re out of Bavarian cream filled donuts” so I’m like “you have any cinnamon rolls?” and he says “no we’re out of cinnamon rolls” so I’m like “you have any apple fritters?” and he says “no we’re out of apple fritters” so I’m like “you have any bear claws?” and he says
“wait a minute, I’ll go check”
“NO, WE’RE OUTTA BEAR CLAWS”
So I says “in that case”, I says “in that case what DO you have?” And he says “all I got right now is this box of one dozen starving crazed weasels” and I said “okay I’ll take that”.
So he hands me the box and I open up the lid and the weasels jump out and they immediately latch onto my face and start biting me all over. Oh man they were tearign me apart. You know I think it was just about that time that a little ditty started going through my head, sounded a little something like this:
OH GOD AAAAAAGHH GET EM OFF ME AHHHH GET EM OFF ME OH GOD GOD GET EM OFF ME AAAAAAGH
And I ran out into the street with these flesh-eating weasels all over my face, wavin my arms all around and just runnin and runnin and runnin like a constipated weiner dog and as luck would have it that’s exactly when I ran into the girl of my dreams.
Her name was Zelda. She was a calligraphy enthusiast with a slight overbite and hair the color of strained peaches. I’ll never forget the very first thing she said to me: “Hey You’ve got weasels on your face.” That’s when I knew it was true love. We were inseperable after that. We ate together, we bathed together, we even shared the same piece of mint flavored dental floss. The world was out burrito. So we got married and we bought us a house and had two beautiful children: Nathaniel and Superfly. Oh we were so very very happy, oh yeah. But then one fateful night Zelda said to me, she said “Sweetie, do you wanna join the Colombia Record Club?” And I said “whoa hold on baby, I’m not ready for that kind of commitment”. So we broke up and I never saw her again, but that’s just the way things go in AAAAAAAAALBUQUERQUE!
AAAAAAAAALBUQUERQUE!
Anyway things really started lookin up for me after that because about a week later I finally achieved my lifelong dream. That’s right, I got a part time job at the Sizzler. I even made Employee of th Month after I put out that grease fire with my face. Everybody was pretty jealous of me after that. I was gettin a lot of attitude. Ok likeone time I was out in the parking lot trying to remove my excess earwax with a golf pencil when I see this guy Marty trying t carry a big ol sofa upstairs all by himself. So I say to him “hey Marty did you want me to help you with that?” And Marty he jsut rolls his eyes and goes “nooo, I want you to cut off my arms and legs with a chainsaw”. So I did, and then he gets all indignant on me. He’s like “hey man I was just being sarcastic”. Well that’s jsut great, how was I supposed to know that? I’m not a MIND READER for crying out loud and besides now he’s got a really cute nickname, “Torso Boy”, so what’s he complaining about?
Say that reminds me of another amusing anecdote, this guy comesup to me on the street and he tells me he hasn’t had a bite in three days. Well I knew what he meant, but jsut to be funny I took a BIG BITE of his jugular vein. He’ yellin and screamin and bleedin all over and I’m like “hey come on man, don’t you get it?” But he just keeps rolling around on the sidewalk bleeding and screeaming, you know completely missing the IRONY of the whole situation. Man some people can’t take a joke you know.
Anyway where was I? Kinda lost my train of thought. Ok anyway I know it’s know of a roundabout way of sayin it but I guess whole the point I’m trying to make here is I HATE SAUERKRAUT. That’s all I’m really tryin to say. And if one day you should happen to wake up and find yourself in an existential quandry full of loathing and self-doubt and wracked with the pain and isolation of your pitiful meaningless existence, at least you can take a small bit of comfort in knowing that somewhere out there in this crazy mixed up universe of ours, there’s still a little place called
#AAAAAAAAALBUQUERQUE!
I heard this perfectly in my head as I read it. Thank you.
308 Negra Arroyo Lane
Ugh memories of working at Sandia…
All my homies work at Lawrence Livermore
Put yuh pills away, Waltuh…
Blessed! Now go order a burrito
