Breaking Bad is one of the greatest shows of all-time, so while Cajun Boy recaps each episode, I’m here to give you a little something extra via the Breaking Badass Power Rankings, which ranks the most badass characters from every episode. Why “Badass?” Obviously, the so-not-clever-that-it’s-clever name, but also because Breaking Bad is the kind of a show that makes you want to drink an entire bottle of bourbon before watching it, to soothe your soon-to-be-tense nerves. That’s pretty badass.
Episode: “Granite State”
Not Ranked: the state of New Hampshire.
#3. Webster’s Dictionary defines “badass” as, “We’re not explaining the meaning of this non-word to you. Check out Urban Dictionary if you’re curious for some reason, you dolt.” Urban Dictionary defines “badass” as, “Ultra-cool motherf*cker.” At this point in Breaking Bad‘s run, with only a single episode left to go (/ODs on Franch), very few characters could still be called “ultra-cool motherf*ckers.” The bodies that remain are shattered, split into fragile pieces by Heisenberg, including the man who allowed him to rise in the first place, Walter White.
Walt: fugitive, exiled to a cabin in the New Hampshire woods, barely able to stand up without having a coughing fit, undergoing chemotherapy, has gone insane from watching Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium just that one time.
Skyler: afraid to speak, gets home invaded by Nazis in the middle of the night.
Jesse: bruised, battered, has lost the will to live, lives in a pit, watched his ex-girlfriend get popped in the head because of his actions, was hoping for Cherry Garcia.
Saul: looks like every late-night mugshot.
Lydia: can’t sever her ties with Todd, otherwise the Nazis will come a-calling.
Todd: HE SMILED WHEN HE HEARD JESSE TALK ABOUT KILLING THAT INNOCENT KID WITH A SPIDER HE’S NOT BADASS I’M NOT GOING TO PUT HIM ON THIS LIST YOU MONSTER, isn’t named Lance.
This Guy: looks like flat-faced Kevin Spacey.
Flynn’s principal: hates being the most attractive person in Albuquerque.
Elliott and Gretchen Schwartz: LIED TO CHARLIE ROSE.
Huell: still in that motel.
So, who’s left?
It’s not easy being Flynn. You’re The Heisenberg Kid, the son of the meth kingpin whose story is now national news. But you had nothing to do with it; hell, you didn’t even know what was going on until your mother and aunt told everything, or at least a lot, in a car wash. You’re wracked with sorrow and guilt, having blamed your mom for everything in the past, and now you’re confused as to whether you should pity her, save her, or run away from her. So you do the only thing you can: try to live a normal life, hang out with friends, and go to school. But no matter where you go, people stare, and not just because you’re on crutches. Their gaze intensifies when you get called to the principal’s office to talk to your disappeared dad, the man the rest of the world knows as Heisenberg, for the first time since you protected your mom from his terror. You listen to what he has to say, digest his bullsh*t about his actions all being for the sake of the family, for your mom, for your baby sister, for you. Then you explode. You yell and rage and curse and let everything that’s been bottled inside of you since you found out who your real father was out. Then you wish him dead, just like Skyler, Hank, and Marie before you. You hang up the phone, brush off the faculty trying to console you, walk back to class, and continue your science exam, like nothing happened, content in the knowledge that even though your former-namesake ruined your life, there’s always breakfast to wake up to.
New Hampshire is approximately 2,300 miles away from Albuquerque. That’s a 33-hour drive, in a cumbersome propane truck. For making that exhausting trip once a month, and knowing that what awaits you is a cold, snowy cabin with a dying man who needs your help poking a needle into his veins, Ed deserves the top slot. Now let’s guess what he listens to on the way. Track one: “Vacuum Boots” by the Brian Jonestown Massacre.