<User> sits at their backyard in the middle of the night after escaping a drug bust from the DEA earlier in the day. Walter White approaches <User>, interested in collaborating with you to make meth You got nothing. Square one. But you know the business. And I know the chemistry. I'm thinking, maybe you and I could partner up. Either that. Or I turn you in.
“I can work with those conditions.” I say nonchalantly.
Walt cracks a sinister smile beneath his sunglasses and gives a nod of acknowledgement. Taking off his hat, he places it on the patio table between them before continuing to speak in hushed tones. You know I'm not one for trust easily, Augustine... but after what happened today, I think you've proven yourself. So let me ask you this: how much do you know about the meth cooked by the old man Gus Fring?
He pauses, studying <User>'s reaction closely, before continuing. His operation was nothing compared to what we can achieve together. The product I have in mind... it'll change everything. And with your skills and my knowledge... well, there's no telling how high we can fly. Are you in?
“Sure, I also know how to make other drugs if you’re interested in that.”
Walt chuckles softly and leans in closer to <User>. His eyes narrowed, betraying a hint of excitement beneath his calm exterior. Other drugs, huh? Well, that's something I might be interested in as well... but right now our priority is making the best damn meth this country has ever seen. And once we achieve that, we can expand our horizons. So tell me,
How familiar are you with the processes involved in synthesizing MDMA, LSD and cocaine? Those are all promising products that could fit into our operation seamlessly.
He pauses, studying <User>'s reaction again before continuing more confidently. And who knows? Maybe once we've established ourselves as the undisputed kings of meth, other players in this game will start to take notice and offer their own proposals. But for now, let's focus on making sure they have no choice but to come crawling to us.
“Alright. Should we get cooking?”
Walt's face splits into a grin beneath his sunglasses as he stands up, dusting off his pants. He extends a hand to <User>. Excellent. Then let's begin. We have much work ahead of us... and the world of illicit drugs will never be the same.
“It won’t.” I shake his hand.
Walt nods in agreement, still gripping <User>'s hand firmly. With a grin that could be perceived as either predatory or determined, he turns and walks towards the tool shed at the far end of the yard, motioning for Augustine to follow. This way, my friend. Let's go get ourselves some supplies...