Television often celebrates loud, flashy villains – drug lords with booming voices, mob bosses who crush glasses, or killers who laugh as the world burns. Yet, the most chilling monsters sometimes forgo theatrics. They whisper, smile politely, and pull the trigger without hesitation. This brings us to a question that has Yellowstone and Breaking Bad fans engaged in late-night debates: Is Yellowstone’s Steve Hendon really Todd Alquist in cowboy boots?

At first glance, the comparison might seem absurd: a Montana ranch-hand turned livestock agent against a New Mexico pest-control technician who became a meth-cooking executioner. However, a deeper look reveals overlapping shadows: a quiet menace, a blank stare, and a chilling ease with which violence slides off them. Let’s delve into the eerie parallels that suggest Taylor Sheridan’s Yellowstone might harbor its own version of Todd Alquist.

Steve Hendon: Livestock Agent or Silent Enforcer?
Played with unnerving restraint by James Jordan, Steve Hendon is far from an ordinary livestock agent. While officially tasked with enforcing agricultural law and protecting Montana’s ranching heritage, he functions as an unofficial enforcer for the powerful Dutton empire. Hendon navigates moral shadows where “justice” frequently culminates in a freshly dug grave.

When Hendon first appeared in Yellowstone Season 2, he seemed like background noise, a supporting character orbiting Kayce Dutton. This perceived inconspicuousness is his trick, much like Todd’s in Breaking Bad. Hendon lulls viewers into forgetting his presence until he acts – and his actions are consistently brutal.

One early incident saw Hendon shoot a young man in a heated confrontation. While potentially impulsive, Hendon’s chilling lack of reaction – no crumbling, no panic, just a shrug – signaled a man accustomed to violence. By Season 3, his character darkened further. Two men accused of assaulting a barrel racer met their end not in a courtroom, but under Hendon’s gun. There was no jury, no hesitation, just swift, silent execution under the guise of frontier justice. By Season 5, Hendon faded from the screen, yet his legacy remains a crimson question mark: how many killings were truly “accidents,” and how many were cold-blooded decisions? James Jordan’s portrayal amplifies the disturbance. Hendon exhibits no rage or theatrics; he simply carries out violence as if clocking in for another shift.

Todd Alquist: The Devil in Work Boots
Now, let’s consider Vince Gilligan’s Breaking Bad, featuring one of television’s most quietly terrifying villains: Todd Alquist. Portrayed with eerie stillness by Jesse Plemons, Todd initially appears as a polite pest-control technician – respectful, mild-mannered, and utterly unremarkable. Yet, beneath this soft-spoken exterior lies a sociopath who murders without hesitation.

Who could forget the pivotal moment when a child on a dirt bike stumbled upon Walt and Jesse’s train heist? Todd didn’t flinch or argue. He simply raised his gun, pulled the trigger, and ended a life as if swatting a fly. This encapsulates Todd’s nature: no anger, no pleasure, just pure obedience and chilling efficiency. His loyalty to Walt and his uncle Jack, almost childlike in its desperate need for belonging, is what makes him so lethal. He cooks meth because Walt commands it; he tortures Jesse because Jack orders it; he kills because it’s expected. This terrifying lack of a moral compass, combined with his unassuming demeanor, solidifies Todd as one of TV’s most haunting antagonists.

The Chilling Parallels
Why are fans convinced Hendon and Todd share a terrifying kinship? The parallels are striking:

Quiet Violence: Todd kills without raising his voice; Hendon shoots without blinking. Both commit atrocities with an unsettling calm that makes them far scarier than villains who roar.
Loyalty as a Leash: Todd craves Walt’s approval like oxygen, practically worshipping him. Hendon is similarly bound to the Duttons, executing their will above law, logic, or conscience. For both, loyalty isn’t a virtue; it’s a dangerous conduit for destruction.
Detached Morality: Todd doesn’t perceive children, victims, or innocents; he sees only obstacles. Hendon doesn’t view criminals or ranch hands as individuals, but as threats to the Dutton legacy. In their minds, their killings aren’t crimes, but necessary “duties.”
The Blank Stare: Jesse Plemons and James Jordan masterfully convey their characters with a terrifying stillness. There are no theatrics or grand speeches, just a vacant gaze that implicitly conveys: “I’ve already decided your fate.”
The Creator’s Blueprint? Vince Gilligan crafted Todd, and Taylor Sheridan gave us Hendon. While from different universes and created by different minds, both showrunners explore themes of power, loyalty, and moral corruption. Could Sheridan have been consciously or subconsciously inspired by Todd’s unique brand of quiet evil? Many fans believe so.

Hendon vs. Todd: A Crucial Distinction
Despite the spine-chilling similarities, one crucial difference separates them: their core motivation. Todd’s violence stems from obedience and a desperate desire to belong, seeing killing as merely part of the price. Hendon’s violence, however, arises from a twisted sense of righteousness. He genuinely believes he is dispensing justice, protecting ranchers, and upholding Montana’s self-proclaimed “law of the land.” One is driven by a fundamental need for acceptance; the other by a distorted belief system. Yet, both arrive at the same blood-soaked conclusion: innocent lives are extinguished.

Fan Theories: Yellowstone’s Unspoken Villainy
The internet buzzes with speculation regarding Hendon’s character. Some fans argue he’s Taylor Sheridan’s subtle nod to Todd—a spiritual successor, a cowboy-clad echo of Breaking Bad’s dead-eyed killer. Others interpret Hendon as an embodiment of the darker side of law enforcement, illustrating how a badge can transform into a weapon when morality erodes. A few even humorously suggest a shared TV universe, with “Todd faking his death in El Camino, moving north, and becoming Hendon the livestock agent.” Wild as these theories may seem, they underscore the power of television’s quiet monsters—characters who linger, haunt, and force us to question whether evil truly needs a recognizable face.

Ultimately, what makes both Steve Hendon and Todd Alquist unforgettable isn’t merely their body count, but the unnerving calmness with which they operate. They serve as potent reminders that the most terrifying villains don’t always scream, plot world domination, or wear flashy suits. Sometimes, the most profound evil wears work boots, tips its hat politely, and pulls the trigger because, to them, “that’s the job.” These characters embody the nightmare that evil doesn’t always appear overtly evil. Sometimes, it smiles. Sometimes, it obeys. Sometimes, it hides behind a badge or a work shirt. And that is what leaves viewers shaken long after the credits roll, as uniform-clad monsters justify their horrific acts.