Walt just wants the list from her, but Lydia has a counterproposal, one that will help him grow his business. Two words: Czech Republic. She makes her presentation: Five percent of the Czech population are using meth -- a huge marketplace about the size of the American Southwest, all waiting to be sold to. They're used to meth that's like 60 percent pure at best. Heisenberg's 99 (market that name for your special top-end reserve, Walt) will "blow their hair back." He'll more than double his current profits. He worries that shipping internationally seems like courting disaster, especially if her solution to that problem is under-investigation Madrigal. Lydia's answer is basically that Madrigal is so massive and diversified a company that the Feds can't possible keep tabs on the whole behemoth. "This is what I do," she says, with that sense of unearned confidence that occasionally possesses her body. "I move things from point A to point B all around the globe." She assures him the people in the Czech Republic are pros she's worked with for years. Walt asks the pertinent question why she never offered this to Fring. Oh, but she did. She says she and Fring were in the late stages of development when "somebody killed him." Oh right. That. She imagines that at 25 pounds a week, Walt will gross about $2 million, but let's start slow with ten pounds. Walt says "okay." As for her cut, with Fring, they had agreed to 30 percent, which was more than fair. Walt says okay again, but Lydia keeps going, so he stops her: learn to take "yes" for an answer, lady!

First things first, though: Walt pushes the paper to her -- he wants the names. She gets to writing. He looks at her warily -- where does this woman come from? She offers her hand -- shake on it? To making money off of misery in Eastern Europe! So Lydia leaves, and back at the table, Walt lifts his hat to reveal his handy ricin vial. Well look whose paranoia was justified! Good show, Lydia. Way to make a deal and spare your own life.

After the break, Walt returns his ricin vial to its hiding place behind the wall outlet. Sorry, Walt! Maybe next time you can kill someone! He makes a phone call to Landry, saying "I think it's time I meet your uncle." Cut to one of the stranger scenes we've seen on this show, as we're in a filthy motel room, where Walt and Todd are both on the absolute periphery of a conversation between (we assume) Todd's uncle and his criminal pals, as they plan what is going to be a simultaneous execution of all nine guys, all within two minutes of one another, across three different prisons. Lord knows how you could get the timing down for something like this when you're in a place with such a regimented schedules and you don't have any timepieces, but hey, it's a Godfather homage, so let's just watch it play out.