Welcome back to the deep dive. Today we are cracking
open a file that honestly I've been both dreading
and well dying to talk about. Oh, absolutely.
It's a heavy one. It really is. For those of
you listening, we are putting a very specific
47 minutes of television under the microscope
today. We're talking about high tension. We're
talking about the collision of two completely
different worlds and a literal sunset that just,
you know, changes the entire trajectory of the
series. Yeah. So we're looking at Breaking Bad,
specifically season three, episode six, the episode
titled Sunset. Right, and if you think about
that title, Sunset, it sounds so peaceful, doesn't
it? Like a nature documentary or something. Exactly,
like a romantic drama. But if you know anything
about this show, or if you just glanced at the
outline we're working from today, you know it
is, it's anything but peaceful. Not at all. I
mean, this is the exact moment where the walls
really start closing in on Walter White. It's
the definition of the anxiety attack genre of
television. Yes. Perfect way to describe it.
And, you know, for this deep dive, we're pulling
from a really massive stack of sources. We've
got production notes, plot summaries, casting
details, and critical reception records. Right,
because we want to unpack how this specific episode
serves as a hinge for the rest of the series.
The mission today isn't just to recap. We want
to figure out why Sunset works the way it does.
We're talking about the introduction of major
new players here. Specifically, Gale Bowediture.
Oh, Gale. And of course, the massive escalation
in that cat and mouse game between Walt and Hank
Schrader. And we definitely have to talk about
the tone, because this episode was written and
directed by John Chibon, and he somehow manages
to blend this high stakes thriller energy with
legal loopholes and some really profound character
studies. It's a balancing act that... quite frankly,
shouldn't work as well as it does. It really
shouldn't. So let's set the stage for everyone.
Where do we find Walter White at the very beginning
of this episode? Because visually and auditorily,
we are just in a completely new universe. We
really are. He's settling into his new surroundings.
And the production notes actually highlight a
really specific piece of music used here to set
the mood. It's a track called Ginza Samba by
Vince Guaraldi and Bola Said. It begins a samba.
Just saying it makes you feel like you should
be holding a martini or something. Yeah. It's
breezy. It's almost, I don't know, pleasant.
Well, that's the point. It's professional. It's
clean. This is the new Superlab. Right. And it
stands in such stark contrast to the dirty, sweaty,
frantic energy of those early RV days. Walt is
entering a world of corporate meth manufacturing,
if you will. The stainless steel is gleaming.
The equipment is state of the art. It's basically
the difference between cooking in a dirty kitchen
and a Michelin star restaurant. And with a new
lab comes a new partner. Enter Gale Bouetticher.
Played brilliantly by David Costabile. This is
such a crucial introduction. Walt takes a liking
to him almost immediately. Which is incredibly
rare for Walt. Usually he's judging absolutely
everyone. He looks at people and just sees obstacles
or idiots. But think about what Gale represents.
In the source material, it literally notes that
Walt takes a liking to his new assistant. Because
Gale is educated. He's polite. He's precise He
makes that perfect cup of coffee using that insane
vacuum brewing method Exactly. He is in so many
ways the partner Walt has always actually wanted
He's the anti Jesse precisely and that contrast
is completely intentional. You have Jesse Pinkman
who is chaotic emotional, often messy, and constantly
questioning Walt's authority. Right, constantly
pushing back. And then you have Gail, who is
essentially just a mirror for Walt's own intellectual
vanity. He validates Walt's genius rather than
challenging it. He looks at Walt with genuine
reverence. It's a narcissist's absolute dream,
isn't it? Like, finally, someone who actually
understands my genius. Exactly. And it seduces
Walt into thinking this is sustainable, that
he can be a criminal professional without any
of the mess. But while Walt is enjoying this
Ginza Samba lifestyle with his new lab buddy,
Jesse is, well, he's sliding right back into
old habits, isn't he? He is regression personified
in this segment. The outline literally calls
it Jesse's regression, and that feels so apt.
He is back with his old crew, Badger and Skinny
Pete. The dynamic trio. Yeah, but the vibe is
completely different this time around. In previous
seasons, them hanging out was kind of goofy,
almost like a stoner comedy. But here there is
a real darkness underneath it. It definitely
feels heavier. Jesse is enlisting them to get
back into the drug trade, to sell the meth. But
there is a massive caveat attached to this new
business plan. He explicitly promises them that
they will not make the same mistakes that got
Combo killed. Oof. Combo. That name carries so
much weight. It does. It's the ghost haunting
this entire subplot. You see, the Friends Badger
and Skinny Pete, they reluctantly agree. And
that reluctance is key. It shows that the consequences
of season two are still very fresh for them.
They know people actually die in this game. They
aren't naive anymore. Exactly. And look at Jesse's
headspace here. Why is he even doing this? That
is the big question. It's complex. He's trying
to be the bad guy. He's trying to wear the armor
of a hardened drug lord. He's telling himself,
I can do this. I can be the boss. Right. but
he's doing it while explicitly referencing the
trauma of losing his friend. He's trying to control
the chaos by saying no mistakes, but he's dragging
his friends back into the exact same fire that
burned them before. It feels like he's trying
to rewrite history. It's like if he can just
run this operation perfectly with Badger and
Skinny Pete, maybe it somehow makes up for what
happened to Combo. That's a great point. It's
a redemption attempt through repetition, which,
psychologically speaking, is a disaster waiting
to happen. You don't heal trauma by reenacting
the traumatizing event. No, you definitely do
not. And speaking of disasters waiting to happen,
let's pivot to the other side of the law. Let's
talk about Hank Schrader. Oh, Hank is on a complete
warpath here. The outline mentions that the investigation
is tightening. And Hank isn't just stumbling
around in the dark. He's actually connecting
dots. Honestly, this is where we see just how
good of a cop Hank really is. It is. A lot of
times, especially early on, viewers might mistake
Hank for just the Loudmouth brother -in -law
or the comic release. But here, he is a genuine
existential threat to Walt's entire enterprise.
He's conducting active surveillance on Jesse.
Walk us through the detective work here. Why
Jesse specifically? Because of the connection
to Combo. Hank has traced the logic perfectly.
He knows the blue meth is out there. He traces
it to the street dealers. One of those dealers
was Combo, and Combo is dead. Right. So he pulls
on that thread. Exactly. Hank digs into Combo's
life. He finds out Combo's mother owned an RV,
an RV that is now conveniently missing. And who
was Combo best friends with? Jesse Pinkman. That
is just solid police work. It's a straight, undeniable
line from the product to the dealer to the vehicle
to the suspect. He isn't guessing at all. He
has followed the breadcrumbs from the dead dealer
to the mother to the vehicle. And now he firmly
believes that the RV, the mobile meth lab he's
been hunting for basically two seasons, is in
Jesse's possession. And he's so close. He's literally
sitting in his car outside Jesse's house. But
then we get this moment of. What do we call it?
Accidental betrayal. That's a fantastic way to
put it. And it involves Marie Schrader. Right.
She calls Hank while he's sitting on the stakeout.
She does. And it's just a normal everyday domestic
call, just checking in. But Hank is frustrated.
He's hitting a brick wall. He can't get probable
cause to go into the house. And Marie, just trying
to be a supportive wife, gives him a piece of
advice. She suggests that Hank just ask Walt
about Jesse. Yes. Yeah. She brings up Walt's
previous association with him. You know, you
have to remember the pot connection from way
back in season one. Walt told Skyler and Marie
that Jesse was his pot dealer to cover up his
weird disappearances. It was such a small lie
at the time, a complete throwaway excuse. And
now it comes... roaring back to bite him. To
Marie, it's just an innocent thought. Hey, Walt
bought pot from this kid once. Maybe he knows
something about his habits or where he hangs
out. To Hank, it's a complete light bulb moment.
Right. Walt knows this kid. So he takes the advice.
He picks up his phone and he calls Walt. He does.
Man, can you imagine being on the other end of
that phone? You're Walter White. You're in your
gleaming high tech lab listening to bossa nova.
You think you're completely safe and your phone
rings. And it's your DEA brother -in -law. It's
the ultimate nightmare scenario. Hank asks Walt,
quite casually too, if he recalls Jesse owning
an RV. And Walt's reaction? Instant alarm. The
source material specifically notes his instant
realization. He knows. He knows the net is closing
right then and there. It's not just some vague
suspicion anymore. Hank is asking about the exact
vehicle that serves as their mobile lab. The
vehicle that still has bullet holes in the door.
The vehicle that reeks of meth. And this realization
kicks off the central crisis of the entire episode.
Walton knows he has to destroy that evidence
immediately. The Ginza Samba is officially over.
It's pure panic time. It is full panic mode.
But before we get to the scramble, we actually
have to talk about the other threat looming in
the background. The threat that doesn't care
about the law or evidence or search warrants.
The cousins. Marco and Lionel Salamanca. Just
saying their names makes me shudder. These guys
are terrifying. They don't even speak. They just
move together like sharks. And we find them at
Les Paulas Hermanos, right? That's right. They're
sitting in a booth. Wow. And the atmosphere described
in the notes is that they are growing increasingly
impatient and angry. Imagine walking into a bright,
cheerful, yellow and red fast food chicken restaurant,
seeing families eating lunch, and then seeing
these two guys in shiny suits just staring daggers
at the counter. It's a visual clash. that Breaking
Bad does so incredibly well. The utterly mundane
versus the intensely lethal, they want Walt.
They want blood. They're there to kill Walter
White. They firmly believe he betrayed Tuco.
And the only thing standing between Walt and
a really gruesome death likely, an axe to the
head right there in the booth, is the man serving
the chicken. Gus Fring. Gus intervenes. He confronts
them right there in the middle of the restaurant.
And talk about tension. It's this incredible
stalemate. You have this silent. chaotic violence
of the Cousins up against the incredibly controlled
corporate authority of Gus Fring. And Gus manages
to hold them off. How does he actually manage
that? He exerts his territory rights. He reminds
them that north of the border he is the one who
calls the shots. But he also knows he can't hold
back the cartel forever. So he makes them a promise.
He tells them they will meet at sunset. Ah, there's
the title of the episode Exactly. This meeting
at sunset is the promise that buys Walt another
few hours of life, though Walt has absolutely
no idea this is even happening That's the grand
irony of the episode. Walt thinks his biggest
problem is a broken down RV. He has no idea the
Grim Reapers are eating curly fries just a few
miles away. It really highlights Gus's immense
power, doesn't it? That he can look these two
ruthless assassins dead in the eye and simply
tell them to wait. He is managing these incredibly
chaotic elements completely behind the scenes.
Absolutely. He is the ultimate middleman manager
of the criminal underworld. But while Gus is
handling the cartel, Walt is frantically trying
to handle the RV. And this leads us to what the
outline calls the Junkyard Dash. This segment
feels like where the dark comedy meets the anxiety.
It's frantic. It's almost a farce in the classical
sense. It starts with a desperate scramble to
Clovis. Clovis is the repair guy, right? We've
definitely seen him before. It's played by Tom
Quiche. Walt drives the RV to Clovis' lot. He's
completely desperate. He basically says take
this thing hide it burn it. I don't care. Just
take it But there's a massive problem. The DEA
is looking for it right now. Exactly. And Clovis
isn't stupid. He knows heat when he sees it.
He tells Walt that the RV absolutely cannot stay
at his repair lot. It's a sitting duck. If the
cops come knocking, Clovis goes down with it.
So Clovis points them in a new direction. He
tells him about a guy named Old Joe. Old Joe.
Truly one of the great side characters of the
entire series. Played by the legendary Larry
Hankin. Clovis describes him as a junkyard owner
who asks no questions. He has a massive vehicle
crusher on site. He is ready to scrap the vehicle
for straight cash. Perfect. Problem solved, right?
You just drive it to the junkyard, crush it into
a little metal cube, walk away. The evidence
is literally gone. If only it were that simple.
This is Breaking Bad, after all. We have to have
the big communication breakdown. It's always
the communicat - I swear, if these people just
texted each other clearly, half the tension in
this show wouldn't even exist. True. But Badger
is there at the repair lot chatting with Clovis.
And Badger, just trying to be helpful, trying
to be a loyal lieutenant to Jesse, makes a phone
call. He calls Jesse. He warns Jesse that Walt
is taking the RV to get it crushed into scrap.
Now, let's pause here. Jesse does not know that
Hank called Walt. He doesn't know the DEA is
closing in on them. No, not at all. All Jesse
knows is that Walt has been distant. Walt has
a fancy new lab partner, and now Walt is destroying
the RV, which, let's remember, is half Jesse's
property. So Jesse logically thinks... Jesse
thinks Walt is actively betraying him. He thinks
Walt is trying to completely erase him from the
business. So Jesse rushes to the junkyard. He
rushes there to stop Walt. He is totally enraged.
He is driving recklessly across town. But he
is completely unaware of one critical, tiny detail.
Hank. Hank is still sitting right outside Jesse's
house. He sees Jesse run out in a blind panic
He sees Jesse speed off and Hank thinks bingo
He's going straight to the RV. So by rushing
out to save the RV, Jesse is literally leading
the lead DEA investigator directly to the smoking
gun. It creates this agonizing sequence where
you, the viewer, know exactly what is happening,
but the characters are all operating on partial
information. It's a comedy of errors, but with
completely lethal stakes. It really is. And it
all converges at Old Joe's junkyard. Which brings
us to segment five. The climax. The RV standoff.
This scene, I mean, my heart rate goes up just
thinking about it. This is the exact moment the
entire episode has been building toward. Walt
arrives in the yard, he's paying old Joe to scrap
it, he's frantic, do it now, do it right now.
Then Jesse arrives, screaming, furious. He starts
yelling at Walt. And Walt is just trying to shut
him up. Shut up, listen to me. And then, through
the dusty, dirty window of the RV, they see it.
Can you see? Hank's SUV pulls right up. And Walt
realizes the sheer horror of the situation. He
grabs Jesse, throws him into the RV, and they
slam and lock the door. Talk about claustrophobic.
They are trapped in this metal box that smells
like harsh chemicals, with bullet holes in the
door covered by pieces of duct tape, and outside,
Hank Schrader. He knows they are in there. He
definitely does. He gets out, he starts banging
on the metal door. Open up, DEA. Imagine the
terror for Walt in that moment. This isn't just
some faceless cop trying to bust a dealer. This
is his brother -in -law. This is the guy he has
backyard barbecues with. If that door opens,
the show is effectively over. Walt is caught
red -handed. Skyler finds out. Junior finds out.
His entire life as a free man ends right there
in that dirt lot. And Hank is trying to source
the door open with a crowbar or something, right?
He's actively ripping off the duct tape over
the bullet holes. He sees the bullet holes. That
just confirms it entirely for him. He knows,
without a doubt, this is the right vehicle. He
is mere inches away from the truth. But then
we get the twist. The legal loophole. This is
where old Joe steps in. And honestly, this is
why this episode is so brilliant. It shifts abruptly
from an action scene to a constitutional law
debate. Old Joe, the grimy, overall -wearing
junkyard owner, starts quoting the law. He does.
He interrupts Hank mid -breach. He demands to
see a warrant. And Hank tries to big -league
him. I don't need a warrant. This is a vehicle.
I have probable cause. Which is usually true
for cars. But Old Joe argues that the RV is actually
a domicile. A private home. Exactly. He argues
that because it has living quarters, a bed, a
kitchenette, it is legally a private residence.
And under the Fourth Amendment, you cannot search
a private domicile without a warrant signed by
a judge. That's incredibly specific knowledge
for a junkyard owner to just have in his back
pocket. It is. But it makes perfect sense in
context, right? He probably deals with cops trying
to search for stolen cars or parts all the time.
He knows his rights inside and out. He essentially
creates an invisible legal force field right
around the RV. And Hank knows he's right. That's
the crucial thing. Hank is a good experienced
cop. He knows the law. He knows that if he breaks
that door down without a warrant, any lawyer,
even a terrible one, will get all the evidence
thrown out as fruit of the poisonous tree. He
can't risk blowing the biggest case of his entire
career on a procedural technicality. So Hick
has to stop. He relents. He backs away from the
door. But he doesn't leave the junkyard. He calls
the DEA office to get a warrant expedited. He
says, give me a judge. I'm sitting on it. He
goes back to his SUV, sits on the hood, and waits.
Which buys them time. But they're still trapped.
They're just sitting ducks inside a tin can in
the blazing desert heat. They are. And this leads
to a really fascinating production insight from
the sources. Oh, definitely tell me about that.
According to the production notes, the writing
team, led by John Sheeban and Vince Gilligan,
hit a massive wall right here. It took them almost
two full weeks to figure out how to get Walt
out of this RV situation. Two weeks just staring
at a whiteboard for this one scene. Yes. They
had completely written themselves into a corner.
Walt is trapped. Hank is outside watching the
only door. There is no back hatch. There is no
escape tunnel. How do you get him out of there
without Hank seeing him? That's an absolute nightmare
for a writer. Vince Gilligan even revealed that
they briefly considered a much darker path. They
were so incredibly desperate for a solution.
What was it? They legitimately considered having
Walt kill Hank right there. Whoa. Just imagine
that. Season three. Walt opens the RV door and
just shoots his brother -in -law. Oh, that would
have been... I mean, there's no coming back from
that at all. No. It changes the show from a complex
tragedy to just a straight horror story immediately.
Walt becomes totally irredeemable instantly.
And I think it speaks to the immense integrity
of the writers that they didn't just go for the
easy shock value to solve a plot hole, they waited.
They sweated it out for two weeks until they
found the smarter, better solution. The unthinkable
solution. Exactly. So back inside the RV, Walt
is desperate. He realizes there is no physical
escape possible, so he has to go psychological.
He makes a phone call. He calls Saul Goodman.
Saul is the ultimate fixer. Walt explains the
dire situation, and Saul, incredibly quick on
his feet, instructs his secretary, Francesca.
Played by Tina Parker. Right. And this is where
the moral line is truly permanently crossed.
Francesco calls Hank on his personal cell phone.
She pretends to be a hospital administrator.
She acts frantic out of breath. Yeah. She tells
him that his wife Marie has been in a critical
car accident and she is being airlifted to the
hospital right now. It's so unbelievably cruel.
It's devastatingly effective. Think about Hank
for a second. He's a tough guy. He's a hardened
cop. But his soft spot, his only real vulnerable
soft spot, is Marie. He loves her. The sheer
panic overrides his police instincts immediately.
He doesn't verify the source. He doesn't call
dispatch to confirm. He forgets the RV. He forgets
Jesse. He forgets the impending warrant. He jumps
in his car and drives recklessly to the hospital.
Because he's a human being. And Walt coldly uses
that humanity against him. That's the real tragedy
of the scene. Walt knows Hank deeply loves Marie.
And he uses that pure love as a lever to facilitate
his own escape. So Hank leaves. He speeds away.
Sirens blaring. And the coast is finally clear.
But we have to follow Hank's perspective here.
He rushes to the hospital. He runs into the ER,
breathless, absolutely terrified. And what happens
when he gets there? It's completely calm. There's
no emergency happening. He calls Marie's phone.
And she picks up. She picks up. She's totally
fine. She's just at home. She's confused why
he's sounding so hysterical, asking if she's
OK. And the realization hits him. The source
material describes his reaction as shifting from
cure panic to immense relief and then rapidly
to being seething with anger. He knows. He knows.
He knows it was a deliberate hoax. He knows someone
played him. Someone used his deepest, darkest
fear to get him to drive away from that junkyard.
And he knows he was right about the RV. Exactly.
The fact that someone went to those extreme illegal
lengths proved that the RV was the real target.
He was literally sitting on the answer and they
tricked him into abandoning it. That anger that's
going to fuel him for the rest of the season.
It permanently changes him. He's not just doing
a police job anymore. Now it's deeply personal.
Meanwhile, back at the junkyard. With Hank gone,
there is zero time to waste. The destruction.
Old Joe fires up the massive crusher. The visual
of this scene is just so powerful. The RV, the
crystal ship. It's a literal character in itself.
It's been there since the pilot episode. It's
where they cooked their very first batch. It's
where they bonded. It's where they almost died
a dozen times in the desert. And we just watch
it get violently flattened into a cube. Walt
and Jesse watch solemnly. The outline describes
it almost like a funeral. It really is. It marks
the definitive end of their amateur phase. The
indie band phase is over. They're fully corporate
now. The crystal ship is gone. There is no going
back to the scrappy days in the desert. That
feels like such a huge monumental turning point.
But we still have one major loose thread. The
cousins. The sunset. Segment seven. The twist.
The episode isn't over yet. We cut to a remote,
dusty location. The sun is actually setting.
The cinematography here is beautiful. That classic,
deep, orange New Mexico light. Gus meets the
cousins again, just as promised. And he has to
give them an answer. They still want Walt. And
Gus reiterates his stance. No killing Walt. Walt
is essential for his business. The cousins must
be furious at this point. They've been waiting
all day for this. They are. They're ready to
act right then. But Gus offers a pivot. He gives
them a new target. He reveals a massive secret.
He tells them who actually killed Tuco. Up until
now, the cousins and the whole cartel assumed
it was Walt, or that Walt was directly responsible
because of the desert drug deal gone wrong. But
Gus reveals the truth. It was Hank Schrader,
who pulled the trigger on Tuco Salamanca in that
shootout back in season two. Oh, wow. He serves
up Hank on a silver platter. This is just masterful
manipulation by Gus. It's brilliant, cold -blooded
strategy. Let's break it down. What does Gus
actually achieve with this one move? Well, first,
he protects his most valuable asset. Right. He
keeps Walt alive, so the blue meth keeps flowing,
and he keeps making millions of dollars. Second,
he satisfies the cousins. He gives them their
blood for blood. They get to avenge Tuco, so
they don't turn their cartel's rage onto Gus
himself. And third... He removes a major threat
to himself. Who is the biggest threat to Gus's
pristine operation right now? Hank. Hank Schrader.
the guy investigating the blue meth, the guy
who almost busted the mobile app. By setting
the cousins on Hank, Gus hopes they will effectively
kill the DEA agent who is sniffing around his
business. It resolves the blood -for -blood demand
of the cartel without losing a single dollar
of profit. And it leaves Gus's hands completely
clean. If Hank dies, it's a cartel hit. It has
absolutely nothing to do with a respectable fast
food owner like Gus Fring. That is heavy. It's
4D chess while everyone else is still playing
checkers. It really is a master class in villainy.
So looking at the reception of this episode,
people absolutely loved it. Oh, it was universally
acclaimed. This brings us to segment eight, critical
reception. We have some great stats here. Donna
Bowman gave it an A. And she's a notoriously
tough critic, she writes for the AV Club. And
Seth Amitin from IGN gave it a 9 out of 10. He
specifically called it amazing. He highly praised
the intensity of the climax, and that's a really
key point. He noted that despite no one being
in direct physical danger until the very end,
the tension was just... unbearable. That's so
true. For most of the RV scene, they are literally
just sitting in a box. But you as a viewer can't
even breathe. It's entirely psychological danger.
Alan Seffenwall, another major TV critic, noted
that the ending felt like old school Breaking
Bad. In what way? In the way that Walt and Jesse
make a bad problem significantly worse by accidentally
leading Hank right there and then find an ingenious
albeit deeply morally gray, way out of it. Morally
gray is putting it very lightly. Very lightly.
But it fits the DNA of the show perfectly. Intelligence
plus immorality equals survival. And the rankings
totally back it up. The Ringer put it at 33rd
out of all 62 episodes. Vulture ranked it 41st.
Which, for a show where almost every single episode
is considered a masterpiece, is a very solid
mid -tier ranking. It's a pivotal episode that
perfectly sets up the explosion of the season
finale. And viewership was up too. 1 .64 million
viewers, which is a solid increase from the previous
episode. People were definitely tuning in. The
word of mouth was really building. This was the
season where the show genuinely started to cross
over from a cult hit to a massive cultural phenomenon.
So let's wrap this up for everyone listening.
What are the key takeaways you should remember
from Sunset? I think there are four main pillars
to remember here. First, the contrast. The introduction
of Gail in the Ginza Samba Superlab versus the
tragic regression of Jesse in the dirty street
dealing. The clean versus the dirty. Second,
the destruction of the RV. The end of an era.
The physical destruction of their criminal roots.
They are no longer independent contractors. They
are now fully owned employees. Third, the moral
line. Using Marie to manipulate Hank. That is
a psychological wound that will never heal. It
says Walt today, but it destroys the fundamental
trust forever. It's the definitive moment Walt
chooses his own survival over his family's sanity.
And finally, the target shift. The crosshair
is moving directly from Walter White to Hank
Schrader. The Cousins have a brand new mission.
It really is a pivotal 47 minutes of television.
It changes absolutely everything going forward.
I want to leave you, the listeners, with that
provocative thought we touched on earlier. The
writers actually considered having Walt kill
Hank in that junkyard. It's a really haunting
what if. If that had happened, would Walter White
have fully become Heisenberg right then and there,
or would he have collapsed under the weight of
the guilt immediately? It's the ultimate question
of whether he was already a monster protecting
himself or just a desperate man trying to hide.
killing family. That's a bell you simply cannot
unring. A bell you can't unring. Just like that
RV being crushed into a cube, it's gone and there's
absolutely no going back. No going back at all.
So think about that sunset. Is it just the end
of the day or is it the end of the light for
these characters? Thanks for diving deep with
us. Until next time. See you then.