ALBUQUERQUE, NM — In a development that has left law enforcement officials simultaneously baffled and craving a snack, former methamphetamine manufacturer Walter White has emerged from witness protection to launch what critics are calling “the most meticulously engineered kettle corn operation in history.”
White, now operating under the suspiciously obvious alias “The Popcorn Whisperer,” has been spotted at local farmers markets in his signature Fleetwood Bounder RV, which he insists is “definitely a different vehicle” from his previous mobile operation. The RV, now emblazoned with the slogan “I Am The One Who Pops,” has drawn considerable attention for its sophisticated ventilation system and suspicious lack of produce other than kettle corn.
“Look, I’m just a simple businessman trying to make an honest living,” White told reporters while carefully measuring corn kernels with a digital scale accurate to 0.0001 grams. “There’s nothing illegal about applying advanced chemistry principles to create the perfect sweet-to-salty ratio. This is America.”
DEA agents have reportedly spent weeks attempting to find criminal activity in White’s new venture, only to discover that his operation is frustratingly legitimate. “We’ve analyzed his blue-tinted kettle corn from every angle,” said DEA Agent Timothy Roberts, wiping sugar residue from his mouth. “The only crime here is how impossibly addictive it is. I’ve gone through three bags just writing this report.”
The operation has also reunited White with former student Jesse Pinkman, who serves as the venture’s enthusiastic marketing director. “Yo, Mr. White’s corn is like, science, bitch!” Pinkman explained to potential customers while wearing a corn cob costume. “The way he, like, applies thermodynamics to achieve the perfect crystallization structure of the caramel coating? That’s straight-up art, man.”
Local competitors have reported dramatic drops in sales, with several shops mysteriously closing after their owners received unmarked bags of White’s kettle corn with notes reading “I am the danger… of market competition.” Former Los Pollos Hermanos locations have reportedly seen the ghost of Gus Fring nodding in approval at White’s meticulous portion control.
White’s attention to detail has reached legendary status among customers. He continues to don his signature hazmat suit during production, citing “food safety concerns” and spending exactly 20 minutes explaining the chemistry behind proper popping temperatures to anyone within earshot. Sources report he recently spent three hours berating an employee for achieving only 98.3% perfectly popped kernels.
Local law enforcement’s frustration reached a peak last week when a raid on White’s RV revealed nothing more illicit than a proprietary caramel recipe and a whiteboard covered in complex sugar crystallization equations. “It’s maddening,” admitted Police Chief Michael Sanders. “We know it’s White, we know his history, but the man’s literally just making really, really good kettle corn. Even our drug-sniffing dogs just sit there eating it.”
Health officials have issued warnings about the product’s addictive properties, noting that White’s methodically engineered formula creates a snack “more habit-forming than his previous blue product.” Studies suggest that consumers experience intense cravings and may find themselves binge-watching cooking shows while muttering “Say my name” to bags of popcorn.
As White’s empire expands, Netflix has reportedly approached him about a potential cooking show. The working title, “Breaking Snack,” would feature White teaching basic chemistry through snack food preparation, though producers express concern about his insistence on wearing a pork pie hat and repeatedly whispering “I am the one who pops” to the camera.
When asked about his future plans, White remained characteristically intense. “I’m not in the meth business anymore,” he declared, carefully weighing a portion of caramel. “I’m in the meth-odically crafted snack business.” He then turned back to his kettle, leaving reporters to ponder how one man could make something as simple as kettle corn feel so ominous.
At press time, Saul Goodman had already erected billboards reading “Did Walter White’s kettle corn give you diabetes? Better Call Saul!”
