Pulp Fiction _1994_

Pulp Fiction (1994) Marsellus: In the fifth, your ass goes down. Say it. Butch: In the fifth, my ass goes down. Marsellus: You see, this profession is filled to the brim with unrealistic motherfuckers. Motherfuckers who thought their ass would age like wine. If you mean it turns to vinegar, it does. If you mean it gets better with age, it don't. [after Butch saves Marsellus from rapists] Butch: You okay? Marsellus: Naw man. I'm pretty fuckin' far from okay. Butch: What now? Marsellus: What now? Let me tell you what now. I'ma call a coupla hard, pipe-hittin' niggers, who'll go to work on the homes here with a pair of pliers and a blow torch. You hear me talkin', hillbilly boy? I ain't through with you by a damn sight. I'ma get medieval on your ass. Butch: I meant what now between me and you? Marsellus: Oh, that what now. I tell you what now between me and you. There is no me and you. Not no more. Marsellus: [right before Butch purposely runs into him with a car] Motherfucker. Butch: So we cool? Marsellus: Yeah, we cool. Two things. Don't tell nobody about this. This shit is between me, you, and Mr. Soon-To-Be-Living-The-Rest-of-His-Short-Ass-Life-In-Agonizing-Pain Rapist here. It ain't nobody else's business. Two: you leave town tonight, right now. And when you're gone, you stay gone, or you be gone. You lost all your L.A. privileges. Deal? Butch: Deal. Marsellus: Get your ass out of here. [Marcellus is telling Butch to take a dive] Marsellus: The night of the fight, you may feel a slight sting. That's pride fucking with you. Fuck pride. Pride only hurts, it never helps. Marsellus: I'm prepared to scour the the Earth for that motherfucker. If Butch goes to Indochina, I want a nigger waiting in a bowl of rice ready to pop a cap in his ass. Jules: I don't wanna hear about no motherfuckin' ifs. All I wanna hear from your ass is, You ain't got no problem, Jules. I'm on the motherfucker. Go back in there, chill them niggers out and wait for the calvary which should be coming directly. Marsellus: You ain't got no problem, Jules. I'm on the motherfucker. Go back in there, chill them niggers out and wait for the Wolf who should be coming directly. Butch: Will you hand me a towel, tulip? Fabienne: Ah, I like that. I like tulip. Tulip is much better than mongoloid. Marsellus: In the fifth, your ass goes down. Say it. Butch: In the fifth, my ass goes down. Jules: You, flock of seagulls, you know why we're here? Why don't you tell my man Vincent where you got the shit hid at? Marvin: It's over th... Jules: I don't remember askin' you a Goddamn thing! You were saying? Roger: It's in the cupboard. [Vincent starts looking in the upper cupboard] Roger: No, no, the one by your kn-knees. Jules: We happy? [Vincent continues staring at the briefcase's contents] Jules: Vincent! We happy? Vincent: Yeah, we happy. Brett: I'm sorry, I didn't get your name. I got yours, Vincent, right? But I didn't get yours... Jules: My name's Pitt. And your ass ain't talkin' your way out of this shit. Brett: No, no, I just want you to know... I just want you to know how sorry we are that things got so fucked up with us and Mr. Wallace. We got into this thing with the best intentions and I never... Jules: [Jules shoots the man on the couch] I'm sorry, did I break your concentration? I didn't mean to do that. Please, continue, you were saying something about best intentions. What's the matter? Oh, you were finished! Well, allow me to retort. What does Marsellus Wallace look like? Brett: What? Jules: What country are you from? Brett: What? What? Wh - ? Jules: "What" ain't no country I've ever heard of. They speak English in What? Brett: What? Jules: English, motherfucker, do you speak it? Brett: Yes! Yes! Jules: Then you know what I'm sayin'! Brett: Yes! Jules: Describe what Marsellus Wallace looks like! Brett: What? Jules: Say 'what' again. Say 'what' again, I dare you, I double dare you motherfucker, say what one more Goddamn time! Jules: Hey kids! How you boys doin'? [to man laying on the couch] Jules: Hey, keep chillin'. You know who we are? We're associates of your business partner Marsellus Wallace. You do remember your business partner don't you? Let me take a wild guess here. You're Brett, right? Brett: Yeah. Jules: I thought so. You remember your business partner Marsellus Wallace, don't you, Brett? Brett: Yeah, yeah, I remember him. Jules: Good. Looks like me an Vincent caught you boys at breakfast. Sorry about that. Whatcha havin'? Brett: Hamburgers. Jules: Hamburgers! The cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast. What kind of hamburgers? Brett: Ch-cheeseburgers. Jules: No, no no, where'd you get 'em? McDonalds? Wendy's? Jack in the Box? Where? Brett: Big Kahuna Burger. Jules: Big Kahuna Burger. That's that Hawaiian burger joint. I hear they got some tasty burgers. I ain't never had one myself. How are they? Brett: They're good. Jules: Mind if I try one of yours? This is yours here, right? [Picks up burger and takes a bite] Jules: Mmm-mmmm. That is a tasty burger. Vincent, ever have a Big Kahuna Burger? [Vincent shakes his head] Jules: Wanna bite? They're real tasty. Vincent: Ain't hungry. Jules: Well, if you like burgers give 'em a try sometime. I can't usually get 'em myself because my girlfriend's a vegitarian which pretty much makes me a vegitarian. But I do love the taste of a good burger. Mm-mm-mm. You know what they call a Quarter Pounder with cheese in France? Brett: No. Jules: Tell 'em, Vincent. Vincent: A Royale with cheese. Jules: A Royale with cheese! You know why they call it that? Brett: Because of the metric system? Jules: Check out the big brain on Brett! You're a smart motherfucker. That's right. The metric system. What's in this? Brett: Sprite. Jules: Sprite, good. You mind if I have some of your tasty beverage to wash this down? Brett: Go right ahead. Jules: Ah, hit the spot. Mia: I do believe Marsellus Wallace, my husband, your boss, told you to take ME out and do WHATEVER I WANTED. Now I wanna dance, I wanna win. I want that trophy, so dance good. The Wolf: That's thirty minutes away. I'll be there in ten. Jules: Normally, both your asses would be dead as fucking fried chicken, but you happen to pull this shit while I'm in a transitional period so I don't wanna kill you, I wanna help you. But I can't give you this case, it don't belong to me. Besides, I've already been through too much shit this morning over this case to hand it over to your dumb ass. [Jules, Vincent and Jimmie are drinking coffee in Jimmie's kitchen] Jules: Mmmm! Goddamn, Jimmie! This is some serious gourmet shit! Usually, me and Vince would be happy with some freeze-dried Taster's Choice right, but he springs this serious GOURMET shit on us! What flavor is this? Jimmie: Knock it off, Julie. Jules: [pause] What? Jimmie: I don't need you to tell me how fucking good my coffee is, okay? I'm the one who buys it. I know how good it is. When Bonnie goes shopping she buys SHIT. I buy the gourmet expensive stuff because when I drink it I want to taste it. But you know what's on my mind right now? It AIN'T the coffee in my kitchen, it's the dead nigger in my garage. Jules: Oh, Jimmie, don't even worry about that... Jimmie: No, No, No, No, let me ask you a question. When you came pulling in here, did you notice a sign out in front of my house that said Dead Nigger Storage? Jules: Jimmie, you know I ain't seen no... Jimmie: Did you notice a sign out in front of my house that said Dead Nigger Storage? Jules: [pause] No. I didn't. Jimmie: You know WHY you didn't see that sign? Jules: Why? Jimmie: 'Cause it ain't there, 'cause storing dead niggers ain't my fucking business, that's why! Jules: Whether or not what we experienced was an According to Hoyle miracle is insignificant. What is significant is that I felt the touch of God. God got involved. Jules: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa... stop right there. Eatin' a bitch out, and givin' a bitch a foot massage ain't even the same fuckin' thing. Vincent: It's not. It's the same ballpark. Jules: Ain't no fuckin' ballpark neither. Now look, maybe your method of massage differs from mine, but, you know, touchin' his wife's feet, and stickin' your tongue in her Holiest of Holies, ain't the same fuckin' ballpark, it ain't the same league, it ain't even the same fuckin' sport. Look, foot massages don't mean shit. Vincent: Have you ever given a foot massage? Jules: [scoffs] Don't be tellin' me about foot massages. I'm the foot fuckin' master. Vincent: Given a lot of 'em? Jules: Shit yeah. I got my technique down and everything, I don't be ticklin' or nothin'. Vincent: Would you give a guy a foot massage? [Jules gives Vincent a long look, realizing he's been set up] Jules: Fuck you. Vincent: You give them a lot? Jules: Fuck you. Vincent: You know, I'm getting kinda tired. I could use a foot massage myself. Jules: Man, you best back off, I'm gittin' a little pissed here. Jimmie: I'm gonna get fuckin' divorced. No marriage counselling, no trial separation, I'm gonna get fuckin' divorced. Honey Bunny: [about to rob a diner] I love you, Pumpkin. Pumpkin: I love you, Honey Bunny. Pumpkin: [Standing up with a gun] All right, everybody be cool, this is a robbery! Honey Bunny: Any of you fucking pricks move, and I'll execute every motherfucking last one of ya! Jules: Well, the way they make shows is, they make one show. That show's called a pilot. Then they show that show to the people who make shows, and on the strength of that one show they decide if they're going to make more shows. Some pilots get picked and become television programs. Some don't, become nothing. She starred in one of the ones that became nothing. The Wolf: You're... Jimmie, right? This is your house? Jimmie: Sure is. The Wolf: I'm Winston Wolfe. I solve problems. Jimmie: Good, we got one. The Wolf: So I heard. May I come in? Jimmie: Uh, yeah, please do. Paul: So, I hear you're taking Mia out. Vincent: At Marsellus's request. Paul: You met Mia yet? Vincent: No. [Jules and Paul laugh] Vincent: What's so fucking funny? Jules: I gotta piss. [exits] Vincent: Look, I'm not stupid. It's the Big Man's wife. I'm gonna sit across from her, chew my food with my mouth closed, laugh at her fucking jokes, and that's it. Marsellus: You see, this profession is filled to the brim with unrealistic motherfuckers. Motherfuckers who thought their ass would age like wine. If you mean it turns to vinegar, it does. If you mean it gets better with age, it don't. Butch: [beating up Marsellus] You feel that sting, big boy, huh? That's pride FUCKIN' with you! You gotta fight through that shit! Pumpkin: The way it is now, you're taking the same risk as when you rob a bank. You take more of a risk, banks are easier. You don't even need a gun in a federal bank. I mean, they're insured, why should they give a fuck? I heard of this one guy, walks into a bank with a portable phone. He gives the phone to the teller, a guy on the other end of the line says, we've got this guy's little girl, if you don't give him all your money, we're gonna kill her. Yolanda: Did it work? Pumpkin: Fucking-A right, it worked. That's what I'm saying. Knucklehead walks into a bank with a telephone! Not a pistol, not a shotgun, but a fucking phone. Cleans the place out, doesn't even lift a fucking finger. Yolanda: Did they hurt the little girl? Pumpkin: I don't know, there probably never was a little girl in the first place. The point of the story isn't the little girl, the point of the story is, they robbed a bank with a telephone. Yolanda: You want to rob banks? Pumpkin: I'm not saying I want to rob banks, I'm just illustrating that if we did, it'd be easier than what we've been doing. Yolanda: No more liquor stores? Pumpkin: What have we been talking about? Yeah, no more liquor stores. Besides, it ain't the giggle it used to be. Too many foreigners own liquor stores these days. Vietnamese, Koreans, they don't even speak fucking English. You tell them, empty out the register, they don't know what the fuck you're talking about. They make it too personal, one of these gook fuckers is gonna make us kill him. Yolanda: I'm not gonna kill anybody. Pumpkin: I don't want to kill anybody either. But they'll probably put us in a situation where it's us or them. And if it's not the gooks, it's these old fucking Jews who've owned the store for fifteen fucking generations, you've got Grampa Irving sitting behind the counter with a fucking Magnum in his hand. Try walking into one of those places with nothing but a phone, see how far you get. Yolanda: This place? A coffee shop? Pumpkin: Why not? Nobody ever robs restaurants. Bars, liquor stores, gas stations... you get your head blown off sticking up one of them. Restaurants on the other hand, you catch with their pants down. They're not expecting to get robbed. Not as expectant anyway. Yolanda: I bet you could cut down on the hero factor in a place like this. Pumpkin: Right, just like banks, these places are insured. Manager? He don't give a fuck. He just wants to get you out the door before you start plugging the diners. Waitresses? Fucking forget it! No way they're taking a bullet for the register. Busboys? Some wetback getting paid a dollar-fifty an hour, really give a fuck you're stealing from the owner? See, I got the idea, last liquor store we held up, all the customers kept coming in? Yolanda: Yeah. Pumpkin: And you got the idea of taking their wallets. Now that was a good idea. Yolanda: Thank you. Pumpkin: Made more from the wallets than we did from the register. Yolanda: Yes, we did. Pumpkin: A lot of customers come into a restaurant. Yolanda: A lot of wallets. Pumpkin: Pretty smart, eh? Yolanda: Pretty smart. Jody: [after Mia survives an overdose from an adrenaline injection] That was pretty fucking trippy... [laughs] The Wolf: You must be Jules, which would make you Vincent. Let's get down to brass tacks, gentlemen. If I was informed correctly, the clock is ticking, is that right, Jimmie? Jimmie: Uh, one hundred percent. The Wolf: Your wife... Bonnie comes home at 9:30 in the AM, is that right? Jimmie: Uh-huh. The Wolf: I was led to believe that if she comes home and finds us here, she'd wouldn't appreciate it none too much? Jimmie: [laughing] She wouldn't at that. The Wolf: That gives us exactly... forty minutes to get the fuck out of Dodge. Which, if you do what I say when I say it, should be plenty. Now, you've got a corpse in a car, minus a head, in a garage. Take me to it. The Wolf: Now boys, listen up. We're going to a place called Monster Joe's Truck and Tow. I'll drive the tainted car. Jules, you ride with me. Vincent, you follow in my Acura. We run across the path of any John Q. Laws, nobody does a fucking thing unless I do it first. What did I just say? Jules: Don't do shit unless. The Wolf: Unless what? Jules: Unless you do it first. The Wolf: Spoken like a true prodigy. How about you, Lash LaRue? You think you can keep your spurs from jinglin' and janglin'? Vincent: Look, Mr. Wolf, my gun went off, I don't know why, and now you're helping us out of the situation. I'm cool with it, all right? The Wolf: Fair enough. Now I drive real fucking fast, so keep up. I get my car back any differently than when I gave it, Monster Joe's gonna be disposing of two bodies. Jules: We should have shotguns for this kind of deal. Vincent: How many up there? Jules: Three or four. Vincent: That's countin' our guy? Jules: Not sure. Vincent: So that means there could be up to five guys up there? Jules: It's possible. Vincent: We should have fuckin' shotguns. [after Butch saves Marsellus from rapists] Butch: You okay? Marsellus: Naw man. I'm pretty fuckin' far from okay. Butch: What now? Marsellus: What now? Let me tell you what now. I'ma call a coupla hard, pipe-hittin' niggers, who'll go to work on the homes here with a pair of pliers and a blow torch. You hear me talkin', hillbilly boy? I ain't through with you by a damn sight. I'ma get medieval on your ass. Butch: I meant what now between me and you? Marsellus: Oh, that what now. I tell you what now between me and you. There is no me and you. Not no more. Pumpkin: Garçon! Coffee! [the waitress approaches the table and refills Pumpkin's cup] Waitress: 'Garçon' means boy. Jules: Now Yolanda, we're not gonna do anything stupid, are we? Yolanda: You don't hurt him. Jules: Nobody's gonna hurt anybody. We're gonna be like three little Fonzies here. And what's Fonzie like? Come on Yolanda what's Fonzie like? Yolanda: Cool? Jules: What? Yolanda: He's cool. Jules: Correctamundo. And that's what we're gonna be. We're gonna be cool. Now Ringo, I'm gonna count to three, and when I count three, you let go of your gun, and sit your ass down. But when you do it, you do it cool. Ready? One... two... three. [Ringo sits down opposite Jules] Yolanda: All right, now you let him go. Jules: Yolanda, I thought you said you were gonna be cool. Now when you yell at me, it makes me nervous. And when I get nervous, I get scared. And when motherfuckers get scared, that's when motherfuckers accidentally get shot. Yolanda: You just know, you touch him, you die. Jules: Well, that seems to be the situation. But I don't want that. And you don't want that. And Ringo here *definitely* doesn't want that. Man #4: [Burst out of the bathroom with his gun] Die you motherfuckers! [He empties his entire gun, hitting nothing but air] Jules: Look, just because I don't be givin' no man a foot massage don't make it right for Marsellus to throw Antwone into a glass motherfuckin' house, fuckin' up the way the nigger talks. Motherfucker do that shit to me, he better paralyze my ass, 'cause I'll kill the motherfucker, know what I'm sayin'? Vincent: I ain't saying it's right. But you're saying a foot massage don't mean nothing, and I'm saying it does. Now look, I've given a million ladies a million foot massages, and they all meant something. We act like they don't, but they do, and that's what's so fucking cool about them. There's a sensuous thing going on where you don't talk about it, but you know it, she knows it, fucking Marsellus knew it, and Antwone should have fucking better known better. I mean, that's his fucking wife, man. He can't be expected to have a sense of humor about that shit. You know what I'm saying? Jules: That's an interesting point. Come on, let's get into character. Marsellus: [right before Butch purposely runs into him with a car] Motherfucker. Vincent: Want some bacon? Jules: No man, I don't eat pork. Vincent: Are you Jewish? Jules: Nah, I ain't Jewish, I just don't dig on swine, that's all. Vincent: Why not? Jules: Pigs are filthy animals. I don't eat filthy animals. Vincent: Bacon tastes gooood. Pork chops taste gooood. Jules: Hey, sewer rat may taste like pumpkin pie, but I'd never know 'cause I wouldn't eat the filthy motherfucker. Pigs sleep and root in shit. That's a filthy animal. I ain't eat nothin' that ain't got sense enough to disregard its own feces. Vincent: How about a