— Why can't you just arrest him, make him tell you?
— It's not that simple, baby. There's a little thing called the Constitution.
— Go. Get to it before the feds do.
— And do what exactly? I mean, what... The thing... The thing is the size of a... It's RV size. I mean, where do I go to make an RV disappear? I'm not David Copperfield!
— Well, first, I'm curious about this.
— That's a little pet project of mine. See, in my opinion, it's all about the quinic acid level. You want just north of 4,800 milligrams per liter, but if you over-boil to get there, you're going to leach your tannins. Bitterness. Yuck. So I pull a mild vacuum. That way, I can keep the temperature no higher than 92 C. Let's see. Judge for yourself.
— My God. My God, that is the best coffee I've ever tasted.
— Sumatran beans, and I also have to give credit to the grind, but... thank you, Mr. White.
— Walt, please. Call me Walt. Why the hell are we making meth?
This is my own private domicile, and I will not be harassed. Bitch.