Walt and Saul waste time in Saul's office, waiting for Jesse, who's obviously not coming. Walt says Jesse "promised" him, but Saul knows exactly what that's worth. He wants to know what plan B is. How do they keep Jesse from killing two of Gus's guys. Pay him off? Walt shoots that down. They need to get him off the streets and calmed down. "What if we...maybe...could you get him arrested?" Walt asks. At which point a camera crew burst into the office, along with a besuited guy holding a giant check and Miss New Mexico wearing a sash and throwing confetti, all to congratulate Walt on coming up with the Worst Idea in History. Congrats! Saul laughs him off, but not hard enough. He lets Walt talk him into it. Not jail-jail, you know, but nice jail. There are nice jails! He wants Jesse in an orange jumpsuit, picking up trash off the side of the highway. "That's jail," Saul deadpans. Saul offers up "Roswell Correctional" as a decent "Level 2 joint." He'd recommend Springer but he's "heard chancey things about their bathrooms." He tells Walt this falls under his "premium services package," a.k.a. more cash, but says he'll call his P.I.
Jesse's in a gross hotel room with Windy -- which is somehow lit all green from the outside. He's giving her a pep talk, reminding her of where to put the poison (he got it on the internet), and she can never tell anyone about it. Ever. Seems like there are great plans all over the place today. He tells her to think of it like she's just delivering some hamburgers. "It's not just delivering hamburgers," Windy whispers to the floor. Windy knows the leap it takes to becoming a murderer. Not Jesse yet. He appeals to Windy's son, Patrick. Imagine Frick and Frack had him working as a mule. Wouldn't she deliver some burgers to protect him? And the other kids like him? She doesn't respond, but he tells her he'll be in touch tomorrow. He leaves as Windy stares at the two GIANT bags of meth he left on her table. She's still gettin' paid.
Walt's at home, babysitting Holly, when he gets a knock at the door. It's Mike the Fixer. I do enjoy him. Considering one of the last times these two were around each other, Mike put Walt in a chokehold with about as much effort as if he were changing socks, the chilly reception for Mike is expected. Walt tells him to use the phone, but this isn't a phone conversation. Mike strides in and makes a little fuss over Holly. Walt grumps at that, so Mike tells him to take a seat. Says Saul told him about their send-Jesse-to-jail plan, but he's not about to go through with it. Why not? "Because it's moronic." I love Mike. Also a reason? "The boss wouldn't like it." Walt's all, "Saul," which leads Mike to give Walt a tiny peek inside what must be an immensely vast Pollos empire: he works for Gus, not Saul. Walt's floored anew. Every week seems to bring another piece of evidence that Gus's empire is so much more than Walt ever thought. And he knows so very little about it.