They continue to travel west after Frank finds that Steven Clark has gained a following for his bad performance on TV and suicide attempt and the show is going to have him perform again. Frank also gets a call from his doctor, saying that his MRI results are wrong and that he's perfectly fine and that the headaches are just hypertension or stress. But the doctor seems more worried about Frank suing him. He also finds out that Roxy has been lying to him and that her parents are normal and not the way she described him. To prevent being linked to the disappearance, he strangles a man who thought that Frank was a pimp and Roxy was a hooker. After giving her the keys to his car, he goes off to Los Angeles.
When he arrives in LA, Frank goes to a gun dealer and buys an assault rifle. Armed with a suicide vest and the rifle, Frank holds American Superstarz hostage. Roxy then comes on stage and apologizes to Frank about lying to him. After giving a monologue on how America has become a bad place, Steven says he was going to kill himself because he wasn't going to be on TV anymore. Frank then tells Roxy that she's a pretty girl to which she says thanks. They then have a Bonnie and Clyde-esque shootout in which the judges, Steven, most of the audience, and them die in.
Battle vs. Walter White (by TheWetWaffle)
Albuquerque, New Mexico, 2010
The Crossroads Motel parking lot was littered with cracks in its asphalt and very few people, suspicious people but still few in total. The roar of a yellow 2011 Chevrolet Camero hits the air and rolls into the parking lot, catching the attention the few people at the motel. The car goes into a parking spot and ceases with a man coming out of it, cigarette in mouth in a yellow button down shirt with some of the buttons undone revealing a white undershirt, looking at the bystanders. One of the bystanders, a tall blonde with a purse just gives him a look but turns away to finish her cigarette. The man also turns away, uninterested in whatever she does and goes on with his business.
The mysterious man enters the motel and goes to the front desk. He sees an obviously uninterest cashier who seemed to have not slept in a week and looks like he hasn't brushed his teeth in an eternity.
"Yes?" the groggy man asked as he rubbed his eyes with hands that had fingernails almost two inches long.
"I would like a room please." the man asked the cashier in as nice a tone he can but is secretly frustrated.
"Okay, lemme see some ID and cash" the employee replied in a tired tone.
Complying with what the employee requests the man pulls out his wallet, taking out eighty dollars and a New York state ID.
"Frank Murdoch... New York huh? You drove all the way from there in that beauty?" the cashier asks as he points to the Camero.
"Yeah, I'm going to Hollywood to audition for something" Frank replies.
"Auditioning for what?" the cashier demanding to know.
"Something." Frank says taking his room key and exiting.
Exiting the motel lobby Frank sees two men with crowbars smashing at the glass windows of his car. They spot him, presuming he's the owner. They steadily approach him, crowbars in hand, and stand face to face with him.
"The fuck you gonna do old man?" one asks lightly shoving Frank.
"Listen, I don't want any trouble." Frank says in an impatient tone.
"Trouble is gonna get you though!" the thug says raising his crowbar. A seemingly unnervous Frank however doesn't flinch and instead just looks on as a flash showers the motel lot and a shell casing hits the floor.
The goon falls down to the ground with a .45 to the gut. His buddy tries to retaliate but meets a similar fate with another .45 hitting him in the abdomen. The cashier looks on in surprise at Frank through the glass door but Frank just walks off, into his room.
In the offices of Saul Goodman and associates sat two men; one with a bald head, goatee, and glasses who looked around 50 and the man who owns the establishment Saul Goodman himself.
"So let me get this straight: Jesse and Mike were south of the border and Mike got shot? And you killed Fring? Walt, I'm not happy about you playing whack-a-mole with our friends especially with one of them being Mike?" said the nervous attorney.
"Mike isn't dead" Walt said trying to explain himself while rubbing his head.
"Oh that's great! That's fantastic! How are you going to explain to Mike that his employer is dead who might I remind you is one of the most powerful distributors in the States! Mike isn't the kind of guy to take bad news easily you know!" Saul said shouting at Walt.
"I'll handle it!" Walt responded angrily.
"You better not kill him! Because that worked so well the last time!" Saul said with equal flare.
"I..." Walt was cut off by the ring of a phone which was cut when Saul answer.
When Saul answered the phone his look of mild anger turned to a look of concern with a few words leaking out of his mouth here and there. When he hung up he looked nervous and a bit shocked.
"Now what?" Walt asked the lawyer as he pours a drink.
"A couple of my clients were shot at a motel. It's not shocking since the motel is the same shithole Jesse used to go to." Saul says as he downs the alcohol.
"The Crossroads?" Walt responds.
"Yep, and the funny thing is is that these guys worked for Gus at one point" Saul said looking at the beverage.
"Wait what?" Walt says suddenly invested in Saul's ordeal.
"Yeah but nothing outside of working in the streets" Saul said.
"What if the Cartel sent hitmen to eliminate whatever remains of Los Pollos? The news spreading of Gus' death could've reached them and they may want to pick at the bones of the Gus' men." Walt concludes.
"But didn't Gus kill the Cartel's bosses or at least a majority of them?" Saul says before pouring another shot.
"Listen, you don't know if they all died. Maybe one of them didn't come to the party? Or maybe one of them were just a grunt rising to the top?" Walt says.
"I guess that's true." Saul says. "So what should we do now? Mike's still in Mexico so I guess we'll wait until he comes back so he can handle them."
"No, I'll do this." Walt says standing up to go to the door.
"Wait, what? Walt, you and I both know you aren't Billy the Kid here. Are you sure you want to be fighting some guy who probably kill you with a single look?" Saul says trying to knock some sense into his client.
"Saul I can't allow this guy to walk away. What if he's going to come after us? Or Jesse? Or Mike?" Walt says with a stern look on his face.
"Fine, but if you want to do this I'll at least get an ID on this guy. I'll make a few calls" Saul says walking to his phone. "Just be careful Walt and don't get killed."
"I'll be sure Saul." Walt says as he walks out of the room.
The gentle purr of the motor of a Pontiak Aztec embraced the air of the Crossroads parking lot as Walt scopes out the area, looking for the man Saul sent a picture of. He keeps his eyes peeled for a middle aged white male with brown hair. He sees the yellow car Saul mentioned he owns, but nothing comes of it. Then he sees the man, walking back into his motel room with a bag of groceries in hand, acting as if he wasn't wanted for multiple homicides. He definitely doesn't look like the tattooed, large Mexican man Walt envisioned in his mind out of fear but luckily for Walt this could be easier. He clicks his seatbelt and leaves the vehicle, not before checking to see if he had his revolver on hand.
He takes a brisk walk to the door of the man's room and knocks on it. He grabs his revolver, hoping to make this quick like what Jesse did to Gale. He hears the lock click and comes face to face with the man, who has a very uninterested look on his face.
Walt freezes for a quick second, he looks in his victims eyes. He's killed men before but mainly in an adrenaline fueled, heat of the moment thing and to defend Jesse but an assassination is not his thing. Usually he would've had Mike do this but he was confident he'd be able to do this.
"What do you want?" the man asking as if he has any better to do.
"Um, hello sir my name is Mr. Lambert and I'm a representative of Saul Goodman & Associates. We heard about the act of vandalism that damaged your car and we would like to represent you in a court case to bring these men to justice." Walt says with the most shit eating grin he's ever come up with and the most enthusiastic look of nervousness ever.
"Yeah... I'll pass. The lawyer guy seems like a real tool anyway." Frank says before closing the door.
"Wait," Walt says, stopping the door with his knee. "The cost of new windows for that car would be way too expensive, it's a practical waste of money. Please let Mr. Goodman help you."
"I don't want to be involved in some shitty court case. Plus I doubt the two guys will even show." Frank tries to shut the door again despite Walt's leg blocking the way.
The pain builds up in Walt's leg as he reaches for his holster.
"At least take his card!"
Walt fires a couple of shots blindly into the motel room through the barely open door, missing Frank by a foot but still disorientating him due to the sound. Frank crushes Walt's hand on the door and rushes to his rifle case and grabs his MAK and some other weapons, ears ringing. Walt grabs his hand as the pain beats a dull rhythm and runs back to his trunk.
Frank bursts out the door with his rifle in hand and shoots the car, smashing the windows and popping the tires. Walt emerges from the side with his M4 he brought for this and fires wildly at Frank. He takes short, scattered bursts while Frank shows more discipline with better aim.