Rejected Bad: Hail Eris!
The following is a rejected script from an early season of Breaking Bad.
INT. SECRET LAB - DAY
The secret lab's employee lounge is dim, filled with the scent of acrid air from the cook. Jesse is lounging on the couch in his signature magenta beanie, scrolling through his phone. Walter is in the kitchen, meticulously cleaning lab gear, and wearing his hat. The tension in the room is palpable.
JESSE: (looking up, excited) Yo, Mr. White! Check this out! Discord’s got this new age verification thing now.
Walter, only half-listening, continues to scrub a beaker. He brushes aside Jesse’s comment, winking at his own nostalgia.
WALTER: Hail Eris!
Jesse gives him a confused look. He sets his phone down and sits upright.
JESSE: What? No, I mean, for real, they’re like making it all complicated. You’ll need to prove you’re old enough to join and stuff.
Hank walks in, overhearing them, his pink unicorn con-badge still clipped to his shirt. He joins the conversation with a slight smirk.
HANK: Yeah, I heard about that! It's like a digital bouncer or something. But honestly, nothing beats My Space and the Pink Unicorn community!
Walter’s eyes narrow, and he drops the beaker, which shatters on the floor. He grabs a crowbar from behind the couch, his face contorted with anger.
WALTER: (voice low and fierce) My God, Hank! The Overton window is shifting right before our eyes. This is an erosion of freedom!
Jesse, now clearly anxious, raises his hands defensively.
JESSE: Dude, chill! It's just a platform! Can't we just keep it real? Not everyone cared about My Space, man.
Walter shakes his head, pacing the room with the crowbar, his frustration boiling over.
WALTER: (scoffing) It’s not just a platform, Jesse! It’s a symptom. First, they control the platforms—we’re just one verification away from them controlling our minds!
Hank chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.
HANK: What’s next? They’ll demand we submit social security numbers for Pokémon battles? Look, Jesse, as long as you can still talk about all those cool drugs and EA sports or whatever, who cares?
Walter interrupts Hank, furious, and thrusts the crowbar into the air dramatically.
WALTER: This isn’t a joke, Hank! It’s a slippery slope! Today, it's age verification; tomorrow, it’s identity control!
The tension hangs in the air. Jesse, sensing an opportunity, leans back, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
JESSE: Yo, Mr. White, do you think Discord knows about our... “business operations”?
Hank catches on immediately, his eyes narrowing.
HANK: (smirking) What are you implying there, Jesse? You set up a secret channel for meth memes?
Walter, growing increasingly fed up, throws the crowbar down onto the table, and stares daggers at both of them.
WALTER: (smouldering with more intensity than Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson) Focus! We’re not here to discuss your childish antics. We need to remain vigilant. History is not kind to those who take complacency for granted!
Jesse and Hank exchange a glance, then burst into laughter.
HANK: You’re going to teach us history next? What’s next, a history lesson on cats and their influence on internet communities?
Walter, losing his patience, spins on his heel and storms into the kitchen, muttering.
WALTER: Whatever.
As Walter exits, the laughter fades. Jesse picks up his phone again, scrolling through Discord.
JESSE: Maybe we should just make our own platform. You know, no verification, no control, just pure chaos. Hail Eris, right?
Hank rolls his eyes, and they share a glance that says “what are we even doing?”
FADE OUT.