Peter: Walter, what are you doing?
Walter: I'm dosing a caterpillar.
Peter: Dosing, as in LSD?
Walter: Well, it's a special blend.
Peter: I see. Hey, guess what happened?
Walter: Hmm?
Peter: Finding out that my father's giving drugs to bugs somehow just became a typical moment in my life.
Walter: It's wonderful, isn't it? |
Olivia: And bring your father. I think we'll need him.
Peter: Do I have to? |
Olivia: Why would do they that? I mean, what would they want with me? What were they doing? Who could they be?
Walter: You’re like a question machine. |
Walter: Internal hemorrhaging, rapid cell deterioration. It appears that he suffocated from within.
Peter: Well, maybe that’s because a giant, slimy, spiky slug came out of his mouth.
Walter: Yes. And I have a theory as to what it might have been.
Peter: I’m sure you do. Care to share?
Walter: Eventually. |
Walter: At least he died teaching, a righteous profession. |
Walter: Look. Simian hemorrhagic fever. The infected cells have a definitive spiderweb look. Makes HIV look like a common cold by comparison.
Peter: Walter…
Walter: (cheerfully) Ebola. First the headaches and then the skin turns to rice pudding!
Peter: Walter, please! |
(Walter captures a giant slug with a trash can)
Walter: Things like this used to happen in the lab all the time. Makes me nostalgic. |
Walter: Do you know what I could go for?
Astrid: Don’t say food.
Walter: A cheese steak.
Astrid: Uggh. How can he even think about eating?
Peter: I know, it’s disgusting, right? And yet…
Astrid: Ha. You want one too?
Peter: Extra provolone, please.
Astrid: Like father, like son.
Peter: Oh, come on, don’t say that. |
Peter: Are you sure?
Walter: My boy, I’m not even sure that we exist on the same plane of consciousness, but yes, I believe so. |
Olivia: Can I come in?
Broyles: I hate that. Knocking and asking while you come in. |
Peter: They supersized the common cold, which as it turns out, is disgusting.
Olivia: Obviously somebody’s playing with us.
Peter: Yeah, they’re showing off. Killing epidemiologists with the common cold. |
Walter: (about Olivia) She is beautiful, isn’t she?
Peter: Who?
Walter: The slug. |
Peter: The man’s insane, Olivia.
Walter: I concur, and in the category of takes one to know one… that man did seem disturbed. |