Pulp Fiction Quotes

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.

Captain Koons:
Hello, little man. Boy, I sure heard a bunch about you. See, I was a good friend of your dad's. We were in that Hanoi pit of hell together over five years. Hopefully... you'll never have to experience this yourself, but when two men are in a situation like me and your Dad were, for as long as we were, you take on certain responsibilities of the other. If it had been me who had not made it, Major Coolidge would be talkin' right now to my son Jim. But the way it turned out is I'm talkin' to you, Butch. I got somethin' for you.

Captain Koons:
This watch I got here was first purchased by your great-grandfather during the first World War. It was bought in a little general store in Knoxville, Tennessee. Made by the first company to ever make wrist watches. Up till then people just carried pocket watches. It was bought by private Doughboy Erine Coolidge on the day he set sail for Paris. It was your great-grandfather's war watch and he wore it everyday he was in that war. When he had done his duty, he went home to your great-grandmother, took the watch off, put it an old coffee can, and in that can it stayed 'til your granddad Dane Coolidge was called upon by his country to go overseas and fight the Germans once again. This time they called it World War II. Your great-grandfather gave this watch to your granddad for good luck. Unfortunately, Dane's luck wasn't as good as his old man's. Dane was a Marine and he was killed - along with the other Marines at the battle of Wake Island. Your granddad was facing death, he knew it. None of those boys had any illusions about ever leavin' that island alive. So three days before the Japanese took the island, your granddad asked a gunner on an Air Force transport name of Winocki, a man he had never met before in his life, to deliver to his infant son, who he'd never seen in the flesh, his gold watch. Three days later, your granddad was dead. But Winocki kept his word. After the war was over, he paid a visit to your grandmother, delivering to your infant father, his Dad's gold watch. This watch.

Captain Koons:
This watch was on your Daddy's wrist when he was shot down over Hanoi. He was captured, put in a Vietnamese prison camp. He knew if the gooks ever saw the watch it'd be confiscated, taken away. The way your Dad looked at it, that watch was your birthright. He'd be damned if any slopes were gonna put their greasy yella hands on his boy's birthright. So he hid it in the one place he knew he could hide something. His ass. Five long years, he wore this watch up his ass. Then he died of dysentery, he gave me the watch. I hid this uncomfortable hunk of metal up my ass two years. Then, after seven years, I was sent home to my family. And now, little man, I give the watch to you.

Jules:
What time you got?

Vincent:
Seven twenty-two in the A.M.

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 f***ing fried chicken, but you happen to pull this sh*t 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 sh*t this morning over this case to hand it over to your dumb ass.

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... stop right there. Eatin' a b*tch out, and givin' a b*tch a foot massage ain't even the same f***in' thing.

Vincent:
Not the same thing, the same ballpark.

Jules:
It ain't no f***in' ballpark either. Now look, maybe your method of massage differs from mine, but touchin' his wife's feet, and stickin' your tongue in her holyiest of holies, ain't the same ballpark, it ain't the same league, it ain't even the same f***in' sport. Foot massages don't mean sh*t.

Vincent:
Have you ever given a foot massage?

Jules:
Don't be tellin' me about foot massages - I'm the foot f***in' master.

Vincent:
Given a lot of 'em?

Jules:
Sh*t yeah. I got my technique down and everything, I don't be tickling or nothin'.

Vincent:
Would you give a guy a foot massage?

Jules:
F*** you.

Vincent:
You give them a lot?

Jules:
F*** you.

Vincent:
You know, I'm getting kinda tired, I could use a foot massage.

Jules:
Man, you best back off, I'm gittin' pissed.

Jimmie:
I'm gonna get f***in' divorced. No marriage counselling, no trial separation, I'm gonna get f***in' divorced.

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 f***ing cool about them. There's a sensuous thing going on where you don't talk about it, but you know it, she knows it, f***ing Marsellus knew it, and Antoine should have f***ing better known better. I mean, tht's his f***ing wife, man, he can't be expected to have a sense of humor about that sh*t. You know what I'm saying?

Jules:
That's an interesting point.

Jules:
Come on, let's get into character.

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 Wolf. 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.

Vincent:
What's so f***ing funny?

Jules:
I gotta piss.

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 f***ing jokes, and that's it.

Marsellus:
You see, this profession is filled to the brim with unrealistic motherf***ers. Motherf***ers 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.

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 f***? 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:
F***ing-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 f***ing phone. Cleans the place out, doesn't even lift a f***ing 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 f***ing English. You tell them, empty out the register, they don't know what the f*** you're talking about. They make it too personal, one of these gook f***ers 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 f***ing Jews who've owned the store for fifteen f***ing generations, you've got Grampa Irving sitting behind the counter with a f***ing 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 f***. He just wants to get you out the door before you start plugging the diners. Waitresses? F***ing 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 f*** 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.

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 f***ing thing unless I do it first. What did I just say?

Jules:
Nobody does a f***ing thing unless.

The Wolf:
Unless what?

Jules:
Unless you do it first.

The Wolf:
Spoken like a true prodigy. How about you, Lash LaRue? Can you keep your spurs from jingling and jangling?

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 f***ing fast, so keep up. I get my car back any differently that when I gave it, Monster Joe's gonna be disposing of two bodies.

Vincent:
And you know what they call a... a... a Quarter Pounder with Cheese in Paris?

Jules:
They don't call it a Quarter Pounder with cheese?

Vincent:
No man, they got the metric system. They wouldn't know what the f*** a Quarter Pounder is.

Jules:
Then what do they call it?

Vincent:
They call it a Royale with cheese.

Jules:
A Royale with cheese. What do they call a Big Mac?

Vincent:
Well, a Big Mac's a Big Mac, but they call it le Big-Mac.

Jules:
Le Big-Mac. Ha ha ha ha. What do they call a Whopper?

Vincent:
I dunno, I didn't go into Burger King.

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 f***in' shotguns.

Butch:
You okay?

Marsellus:
Naw man. I'm pretty f***in' far from okay.

Butch:
What now?

Marsellus:
What now? Let me tell you what now. I'ma call a coupla hard, pipe-hittin' n*ggers, 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.

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.

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 motherf***ers get scared, that's when motherf***ers 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.

Jules:
Look, just because I don't be givin' no man a foot massage don't make it right for Marsellus to throw Antwan into a glass motherf***in' house f***in' up the way the n*gger talks. Motherf***er do that sh*t to me, he better paralyze my ass cuz I'll kill the motherf***er, know what I'm sayin'?

Jules:
Oh, I'm sorry. Did I break your concentration?

Butch:
So we cool?

Marsellus:
Yeah, we cool. Two things. Don't tell nobody about this. This sh*t 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.

Vincent:
That's a pretty f***ing good milkshake. I don't know if it's worth five dollars but it's pretty f***ing good.

Marsellus:
The night of the fight, you may feel a slight sting. That's pride f***ing with you. F*** pride. Pride only hurts, it never helps.

Jules:
The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee.

Butch:
What're you looking at, friend?

Vincent:
I ain't your friend, palooka.

Butch:
What did you say?

Vincent:
I think you heard me just fine, punchy.

Mia:
Don't you hate that?

Vincent:
What?

Mia:
Uncomfortable silences. Why do we feel it's necessary to yak about bullshit in order to be comfortable?

Vincent:
I don't know. That's a good question.

Mia:
That's when you know you've found somebody special. When you can just shut the f*** up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence.

Lance:
You're going to give her an injection of adrenaline directly to her heart. But she's got, uh, breastplates...

Lance:
You've got to pierce through that. So what you have to do is, you have to bring the needle down in a stabbing motion.

Vincent:
I-I gotta stab her three times?

Lance:
No, you don't gotta f***ing stab her three times! You gotta stab her once, but it's gotta be hard enough to break through her breastplate into her heart, and then once you do that, you press down on the plunger.

Vincent:
What happens after that?

Lance:
I'm kinda curious about that myself.

Marsellus:
I'm prepared to scour the the Earth for that motherf***er. If Butch goes to Indochina, I want a n*gger waiting in a bowl of rice ready to pop a cap in his ass.

Butch:
I think I have a broken rib.

Fabienne:
From giving me oral pleasure?

Fabienne:
Whose motorcycle is this?

Butch:
It's a chopper, baby.

Fabienne:
Whose chopper is this?

Butch:
It's Zed's.

Fabienne:
Who's Zed?

Butch:
Zed's dead, baby. Zed's dead.

Captain Koons:
The way your dad looked at it, this watch was your birthright. He'd be damned if any of the slopes were gonna get their greasy yellow hands on his boy's birthright. So he hid it in the one place he knew he could hide something: his ass. Five long years, he wore this watch up his ass. Then when he died of dysentery, he gave me the watch. I hid this uncomfortable piece of metal up my ass for two years. Then, after seven years, I was sent home to my family. And now, little man, I give the watch to you.

Esmeralda:
What is your name?

Butch:
Butch.

Esmeralda:
What does it mean?

Butch:
I'm American, honey. Our names don't mean sh*t.

Vincent:
Whoa!

Jules:
What the f***'s happening, man? Ah, sh*t man!

Vincent:
Oh man, I shot Marvin in the face.

Jules:
Why the f*** did you do that!

Vincent:
Well, I didn't mean to do it, it was an accident!

Jules:
Oh man I've seen some crazy ass sh*t in my time...

Vincent:
Chill out, man. I told you it was an accident. You probably went over a bump or something.

Jules:
Hey, the car didn't hit no motherf***ing bump.

Vincent:
Hey, look man, I didn't mean to shoot the son of a b*tch. The gun went off. I don't know why.

Jules:
Well look at this f***ing mess, man. We're on a city street in broad daylight here!

Vincent:
I don't believe it.

Jules:
Well believe it now, motherf***er! We gotta get this car off the road! You know cops tend to notice sh*t like you're driving a car drenched in f***ing blood.

Vincent:
Just take it to a friendly place, that's all.

Jules:
This in the Valley, Vincent. Marcellus ain't got no friendly places in the Valley.

Vincent:
Well Jules this ain't my f***ing town, man!

Jules:
Sh*t!

Vincent:
What you doin'?

Jules:
I'm calling my partner in Toluca Lake.

Vincent:
Where's Toluca Lake?

Jules:
It's just over the hill here over by Burbank Studios. If Jimmie's ass ain't home, I don't know what the f*** we're going to do, man. 'Cause I ain't got no other partners in 8-1-8. Hey Jimmie, yo, how you doin', man? It's Jules. Listen up man. Me and my homeboy are in serious f***ing sh*t. We're in a car and we gotta get off the road, pronto. I need to use your garage for a couple of hours.

Vincent:
Thank you. Mind if I shoot it up here?

Lance:
Hey, mi casa su casa.

Lance:
Are you calling me on the cellular phone? I don't know you. Who is this? Don't come here, I'm hanging up the phone! Prank caller, prank caller!

Jules:
I don't wanna hear about no motherf***in' ifs. All I wanna hear from your ass is, You ain't got no problem, Jules. I'm on the motherf***er. Go back in there, chill them n*ggers out and wait for the calvary which should be coming directly.

Marsellus:
You ain't got no problem, Jules. I'm on the motherf***er. Go back in there, chill them n*ggers out and wait for the Wolf who should be coming directly.

The Wolf:
Jimmie, lead the way. Boys, get to work.

Vincent:
A please would be nice.

The Wolf:
What?

Vincent:
I said a please would be nice.

The Wolf:
Get it straight, gentlemen: I'm not here to say please, I'm here to tell you what to do. And if self-preservation is an instinct that you possess, you'd better do it and do it quick. If my help's not appreciated, lots of luck, gentlemen.

Jules:
No, Mr. Wolf, it ain't like that...

Vincent:
I don't mean any disrespect, I just don't like people barking orders at me.

The Wolf:
If I'm curt with you, it's because time is a factor here. I think fast, I talk fast, and I need you guys to act fast if you want to get out of this. So, pretty please, with sugar on top, clean the f***ing car.

Jimmie:
I can't believe this is the same car.

The Wolf:
Well, let's not start sucking each other's d*cks just yet.

Vincent:
Jules, if you give that f***in' nimrod fifteen hundred dollars, I'm gonna shoot him on general principles.

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 motherf***er. Pigs sleep and root in sh*t. That's a filthy animal. I ain't eat nothin' that ain't got enough sense enough to disregard its own faeces.

Vincent:
How about a dog? Dogs eats its own feces.

Jules:
I don't eat dog either.

Vincent:
Yeah, but do you consider a dog to be a filthy animal?

Jules:
I wouldn't go so far as to call a dog filthy but they're definitely dirty. But, a dog's got personality. Personality goes a long way.

Vincent:
Ah, so by that rationale, if a pig had a better personality, he would cease to be a filthy animal. Is that true?

Jules:
Well we'd have to be talkin' about one charmin' motherf***in' pig. I mean he'd have to be ten times more charmin' than that Arnold on Green Acres, you know what I'm sayin'?

Pumpkin:
Which one is your wallet?

Jules:
It's the one that says Bad Motherf***er.

Jules:
Wanna know what I'm buyin' Ringo?

Pumpkin:
What?

Jules:
Your life. I'm givin' you that money so I don't hafta kill your ass. You read the Bible?

Pumpkin:
Not regularly.

Jules:
There's a passage I got memorized. Ezekiel 25:17. The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness. For he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know I am the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you. I been sayin' that sh*t for years. And if you ever heard it, it meant your ass. I never really questioned what it meant. I thought it was just a cold-blooded thing to say to a motherf***er before you popped a cap in his ass. But I saw some sh*t this mornin' made me think twice. Now I'm thinkin': it could mean you're the evil man. And I'm the righteous man. And Mr. 9mm here, he's the shepherd protecting my righteous ass in the valley of darkness. Or it could be you're the righteous man and I'm the shepherd and it's the world that's evil and selfish. I'd like that. But that sh*t ain't the truth. The truth is you're the weak. And I'm the tyranny of evil men. But I'm tryin', Ringo. I'm tryin' real hard to be a shepherd.

Jules:
Oh man, I will never forgive yo ass for this. This is some f***ed-up, repugnant sh*t.

Vincent:
Jules, did you ever hear the philosophy that once a man admits he's wrong, then he's automatically forgiven of that wrongdoing?

Jules:
Man, get out of my face with that sh*t. The motherf***er who said that never had to pick up itty bitty pieces of skull on account of your dumb ass.

Maynard:
Nobody kills anybody in my place of business except me or Zed.

Jules:
F***, n*gger, what did you do to his towel?

Vincent:
I was dryin' my hands.

Jules:
You're supposed to wash 'em first.

Vincent:
You watched me wash 'em.

Jules:
I watched you get 'em wet.

Vincent:
I was washing 'em. But this sh*t's hard to get off. Maybe if I had Lava or something, I coulda done a better job.

Jules:
I used the same f***in' soap you did and when I got finished, the towel didn't look like no god-damn Maxi-Pad.

Mia:
I said God Damn... God Damn.

Jules:
If my answers frighten you then you should cease asking scary questions.

The Wolf:
You guys look like... What do they look like, Jimmie?

Jimmie:
Dorks. They look like a couple of dorks.

Jules:
Ha-ha-ha. They're your clothes, motherf***er.

Lance:
Look, you brought her here, and that means that you're giving her the shot. The day that I bring an OD-ing b*tch over to your house, then I'll give her the shot. Give her the shot.

The Wolf:
You see that, young lady? Respect. Respect for one's elders gives character.

Raquel:
I have character.

The Wolf:
Just because you are a character doesn't mean that you have character.

Butch:
That's how you're gonna beat 'em, Butch. They keep underestimating you.

Zed:
Bring out the Gimp.

Maynard:
But the Gimp's sleeping.

Zed:
Well, I guess you're gonna have to go wake him up now, won't you?

Jules:
Hey, that's Kool and the Gang.

Vincent:
I got a threshold, Jules. I got a threshold for the abuse I'll take. And right now I'm a race car and you got me in the red. I'm just saying that it's f***in' dangerous to have a racecar in the f***in' red. It could blow.

Jules:
Oh, you're gettin' ready to blow?

Vincent:
I could blow.

Jules:
Well I'm a mushroom-cloud-layin' motherf***er, motherf***er! Every time my fingers touch brain I'm SUPERFLY T.N.T, I'm the GUNS OF THE NAVARONE. In fact, what the f*** am I doin' in the back? You're the motherf***er should be on brain detail. We're f***in' switchin' right now. I'm washin' the windows and you're pickin' up this n*gger's skull.

Fabienne:
Where's my Honda?

Butch:
Sorry baby but I had to crash that Honda.

Jules:
You remember Antoine Roccamora, half black, half Samoan, used to call him Tony Rocky Horror?

Vincent:
Yeah, maybe. Fat, right?

Jules:
I wouldn't go so far as to call the brother fat, I mean he got a weight problem. What's the n*gger gonna do? He's Samoan.

Esmeralda:
So what does it feel like to kill a man with your bare hands? It's a topic I'm very interested in.

Trudi:
You know how they use that gun to pierce your ears? They don't use that when they pierce your nipples, do they?

Jody:
Forget that gun. That gun goes against the entire idea behind piercing. All of my piercings, sixteen places on my body, all of them done with a needle. Five in each ear, one through the nipple on my left breast, one through my right nostril, one through my left eyebrow, one in my lip, one in my clit... and I wear a stud in my tongue.

Vincent:
Excuse me, but I was just wondering... why do you wear a stud in your tongue?

Jody:
It's a sex thing. It helps fellatio.

Lance:
Don Vincenzo. Step into my office?

Lance:
You are NOT bringing this f***ed-up b*tch into my house.

Vincent:
This f***ed-up b*tch is Marsellus Wallace's wife. Do you know who Marsellus Wallace is? Do you? If she croaks on me, I'm a f***in' greasespot.

Jody:
That was f***ing trippy.

Paul:
Hey, my name's Paul and this sh*t's between y'all.

Lance:
If you're all right, then say something.

Mia:
Something.

The Wolf:
Strip.

Jules:
All the way?

The Wolf:
To your bare ass.

Vincent:
Is this necessary?

The Wolf:
You know what you guys look like?

Jules:
What?

The Wolf:
Like a couple of guys who just blew off somebody's head.

Jules:
You know the shows on TV?

Vincent:
I don't watch TV.

Jules:
Yeah, but, you are aware that there's an invention called television, and on this invention they show shows, right?

Butch:
Where's my watch?

Fabienne:
It's there.

Butch:
No it's not.

Fabienne:
It should be.

Butch:
Yes it most definitely should be but it's not here now, so where the f*** is it?

Jules:
Hamburgers. The cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast.

Vincent:
Remember, I just got back from Amsterdam.

Lance:
Am I a n*gger? Are we in Inglewood? No... You're in my home. White people who know the difference between good sh*t and bad sh*t, this is the house they come to. Now, my sh*t, I'll take the Pepsi challenge with that Amsterdam sh*t, any day of the f***in' week.

Vincent:
That's a bold statement.

Lance:
This ain't Amsterdam, Vince. This is a sellers market. Coke is f***ing dead as... dead. Heroin, it's coming back in a big f***ing way.

Mia:
I have to go powder my nose.

The Wolf:
Maybe I can give you guys a ride. Where do you live?

Vincent:
Redondo Beach.

Jules:
Inglewood.

The Wolf:
It's your future... I see a cab ride. Move out of the styx gentlemen.

Mia:
Don't you just love it when you come back from the bathroom and find your food waiting for you?

Vincent:
We're lucky we got anything at all. I don't think Buddy Holly's much of a waiter.

Jules:
Do you know what they call a Quarter Pounder with cheese in France?

Brett:
No.

Jules:
Tell him, Vincent.

Vincent:
Royale with cheese.

Jules:
Royale with cheese. Do you know why they call it a Royale with cheese?

Brett:
Because of the metric system?

Jules:
Check out the big brain on Brett. You one smart motherf***er.

Butch:
How was your breakfast?

Fabienne:
It was good...

Butch:
Did you get the pancakes, the blueberry pancakes?

Fabienne:
No, no, they didn't have blueberry pancakes, I had to get buttermilk - are you sure you're okay?

Butch:
Honey, since I left you, this has been without a doubt the single weirdest f***ing day of my life. Come on, hop on - I'll tell you all about it.

Jules:
Uuummmm, this is a tasty burger

Jules:
Mind if I have some of your tasty beverage to wash this down with?

Waitress:
Garçon means boy.

Vincent:
Douglas Sirk steak, and a vanilla Coke.

Buddy Holly:
How would you like that? Burnt to a crisp or bloody as hell?

Vincent:
Bloody as hell.

Lance:
Hey, whattya think about Trudi? She ain't got a boyfriend. You wanna hang out, get high?

Vincent:
Which one's Trudi? The one with all the sh*t in her face?

Lance:
No, that's Jody. That's my wife.

Lance:
Still got your Malibu?

Vincent:
Aw, man. You know what some f***er did the other day?

Lance:
What?

Vincent:
F***ing keyed it.

Lance:
Oh, man, that's f***ed up.

Vincent:
Tell me about it. I had it in storage for three years, it was out for five days and some dickless piece of sh*t f***ed with it.

Lance:
They should be f***ing killed. No trial, no jury, straight to execution.

Vincent:
Boy, I wish I could've caught him doing it. I'd have given anything to catch that a**hole doing it. It'd been worth him doing it just so I could've caught him doing it.

Lance:
What a f***er!

Vincent:
What's more chickenshit than f***ing with a man's automobile? I mean, don't f*** with another man's vehicle.

Lance:
You don't do it.

Vincent:
It's just against the rules.

Mia:
I'll be there in two shakes of a lamb's tail.

Vincent:
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go home and have a heart attack.

Mia:
Vincent, do you still want to hear my Fox Force Five joke?

Vincent:
Sure, but I think I'm still a little too petrified to laugh.

Mia:
No, you wont laugh, 'cos it's not funny. But if you still wanna hear it, I'll tell it.

Vincent:
I can't wait.

Mia:
Three tomatoes are walking down the street: a poppa tomato, a momma tomato, and a little baby tomato. Baby tomato starts lagging behind. Poppa tomato gets angry, goes over to the baby tomato, and smooshes him...and says: 'Catch up'.

Butch:
I'll be back before you can say Blueberry pie.

Fabienne:
Blueberry pie.

Butch:
OK, maybe not that fast...

Jules:
My name's Pitt, and your ass ain't talkin' your way outta this sh*t.

Jules:
You, Flock of Seagulls.

Butch:
Are you ok?

Marsellus:
No. I'm pretty f***ing far from ok.

Vincent:
Get the shot!

Lance:
I will if you let me.

Vincent:
I ain't f***in' stopping you!

Lance:
Well, then quit talking to me, talk to her.

Vincent:
Get the shot!

Pumpkin:
Forget it. Too risky. I'm through doing that sh*t.

Yolanda:
You always say that. That same thing every time, 'I'm through, never again, too dangerous'.

Pumpkin:
I know that's what I always say. I'm always right, too.

Yolanda:
But you forget about it in a day or two.

Pumpkin:
Yeah, well the days of me forgetting are over, and the days of me remembering have just begun.

Vincent:
I think we should be leaving now.

Jules:
Yeah, that's probably a good idea.

Jules:
I'll just walk the earth.

Vincent:
What'cha mean walk the earth?

Jules:
You know, walk the earth, meet people... get into adventures. Like Kane in Kung Fu.

Fabienne:
It's unfortunate what we find pleasing to the touch and pleasing to the eye is seldom the same.

Yolanda:
This place? A coffee shop?

Ringo:
What's wrong with that? Nobody ever robs restaurants. Why not? 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.

Ringo:
Correct. Just like banks, these places are insured. Manager? He don't give a f***. He's just trying to get you out the door before you start plugging the diners. Waitresses? F***ing forget it. No way are they taking a bullet for the register. Busboy, some wetback getting paid a dollar fifty an hour, really give a f*** you're stealing from the owner? Customers are sitting there with food in their mouths; they don't know what's going on. One minute, they're having a Denver omelette; the next minute, someone's sticking a gun in their face.

Jules Winnfield:
Okay, so, tell me about the hash bars.

Vincent Vega:
So what you want to know?

Jules:
Well, hash is legal there, right?

Vincent:
Yeah, it's legal, but it ain't a hundred percent legal. I mean, you can't walk into a restaurant, roll a joint, and start puffin' away. They want you to smoke in your home or certain designated places.

Jules:
Those are hash bars?

Vincent:
Breaks down like this, okay: it's legal to buy it, it's legal to own it, and if you're the proprietor of a hash bar, it's legal to sell it. It's illegal to carry it, but that doesn't really matter 'cause, get a load of this, all right; if you get stopped by the cops in Amsterdam, it's illegal for them to search you. I mean, that's a right the cops in Amsterdam don't have.

Jules:
[laughing] Oh, man. I'm going, that's all there is to it. I'm f***ing going.

Vincent:
Yeah, baby, you'd dig it the most. But you know what the funniest thing about Europe is?

Jules:
What?

Vincent:
It's the little differences. I mean, they got the same sh*t over there that we got here, but it's just...it's just, there it's a little different.

Jules:
Example?

Vincent:
All right. Well, you can walk into a movie theater in Amsterdam and buy a beer. And I don't mean just like in no paper cup; I'm talking about a glass of beer. And in Paris, you can buy a beer at McDonald's. And you know what they call a Quarter Pounder with Cheese in Paris?

Jules:
They don't call it a Quarter Pounder with Cheese?

Vincent:
Nah, man, they got the metric system. They wouldn't know what the f*** a Quarter Pounder is.

Jules:
What do they call it?

Vincent:
They call it a "Royale with Cheese."

Jules:
"Royale with Cheese."

Vincent:
That's right.

Jules:
What do they call a Big Mac?

Vincent:
A Big Mac's a Big Mac, but they call it "Le Big Mac."

Jules:
[in mock French accent] "Le Big Mac." [laughs] What do they call a Whopper?

Vincent:
I don't know, I didn't go in a Burger King, You know what they put on French fries in Holland instead of ketchup?.

Jules:
What?

Vincent:
Mayonnaise.

Jules:
[makes a grossed out face] Goddamn.

Vincent:
[chuckles] I seen them do it, man, they f***in' drown them in that sh*t.

Jules:
[grossed out] Yuck.

Vincent:
[about a foot massage] It's layin' your hands in a familiar way on Marsellus' new wife. I mean, is it as bad as eatin' her p*ssy out? No, but it's the same f***in' ballpark.

Jules:
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop right there. Eating a b*tch out and giving a b*tch a foot massage ain't even the same f***ing thing.

Vincent:
It's not. It's the same ballpark.

Jules:
Ain't no f***ing ballpark neither. Now, look, maybe your method of massage differs from mine, but, you know, touching his wife's feet and sticking your tongue in the holiest of holies ain't the same f***ing ballpark. It ain't the same league. It ain't even the same f***ing sport. Look, foot massages don't mean sh*t.

Vincent:
Have you ever given a foot massage?

Jules:
Don't be telling me about foot massages, I'm the foot f***in' master.

Vincent:
Given a lot of them?

Jules:
Sh*t, yeah. I got my technique down and everything, I don't be tickling or nothing.

Vincent:
Would you give a guy a foot massage?

Jules:
[pause] F*** you.

Vincent:
You give them a lot?

Jules:
F*** you.

Vincent:
You know, I'm getting kinda tired, I could use a foot massage myself.

Jules:
Yo, yo, yo, man, you best back off. I'm getting pissed here. This is the door.

Vincent:
There it is.

Jules:
What time you got?

Vincent:
[looks at his watch] 7:22 in the a.m.

Jules:
No, it's not time yet. Let's hang back. [they go into an empty hallway] Look, just 'cause I wouldn't give no man a foot massage don't make it right for Marsellus to throw Antoine into a glass motherfucking house, f***ing up the way the nigga talks. That sh*t ain't right. Motherf***er do that sh*t to me, he better paralyze my ass because I'd kill the motherf***er. Know what I'm saying?

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 f***ing cool about them. There's a sensuous thing going on where you don't talk about it, but you know it, she knows it, f***ing Marsellus knew it, and Antoine should have f***ing better known better. I mean, that's his f***ing wife, man. He ain't gonna have no sense of humor about that sh*t. You know what I'm saying?

Jules:
That's an interesting point. [pause] C'mon, let's get into character.

Jules:
Looks like me and Vincent caught you boys at breakfast. Sorry about that. Whatcha having?

Brett:
Uh, hamburgers.

Jules:
Hamburgers! The cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast! What kind of hamburgers?

Brett:
Uh, Ch-cheeseburgers.

Jules:
No, where'd you get them? McDonald's, Wendy's, Jack in the Box, WHERE?

Brett:
Um, Big Kahuna Burgers.

Jules:
Big Kahuna Burgers! That's that Hawaiian burger joint. I hear they've got some tasty burgers. I ain't never had one myself, how are they?

Brett:
...They're good.

Jules:
You mind if I try one of yours? This is yours here, right?

Brett:
Yeah.

[Jules takes a bite of the Hamburger]

Jules:
Mmm, this is a tasty burger! Vincent, you ever had a Big Kahuna Burger? (Vincent shakes his head) Want a bite, they're real tasty.

Vincent:
Ain't hungry.

Jules:
Well, if you like burgers, give them a try sometime. Me, I can't usually get 'em because my girlfriend's a vegetarian, which, pretty much makes me a vegetarian. I do love the taste of a good burger. (turns to Brett) You know what they call a Quarter Pounder with cheese in France?

Brett:
Um, no.

Jules:
Tell 'em, Vincent.

Vincent:
Royale with cheese.

Jules:
"Royale with cheese." Know why they call it that?

Brett:
Uh, because of the the metric system?

Jules:
(smiles at Brett) Check out the big brain on Brett! You're a smart motherf***er. That's right, the metric system.

Brett:
[to Jules] Look, I'm sorry, I-I didn't get your name. I got yours, uh, Vincent, right? But-But I-I never got your...

Jules:
My name is Pitt, and your ass ain't talking your way outta this sh*t.

Brett:
[rising] No, no, no. I just want you to know how – [Jules motions him to sit down] I just want you to know how sorry we are that-that things got so f***ed up with us and-and Mr. Wallace. I-I-It...we-we got into this thing with the best intentions. Really. I never...

[Jules shoots Roger, Brett recoils in horror]

Jules:
Oh, I'm sorry. Did I break your concentration? I didn't mean to do that. Please, continue. You were sayin' something about "best intentions"? [silence] What's the matter? Oh, y-you were finished? Oh, well, allow me to retort. What does Marsellus Wallace look like?

Brett:
..What?

Jules:
[angrily throws the small table in the room] What country are you from!?

Brett:
Wha-what?

Jules:
"What" ain't no country I ever heard of! They speak English in "What"!?

Brett:
What?

Jules:
ENGLISH, MOTHERF***ER! DO YOU SPEAK IT!?

Brett:
Yes!!

Jules:
THEN YOU KNOW WHAT I’M SAYING!

Brett:
Yes..!

Jules:
DESCRIBE WHAT MARSELLUS WALLACE “LOOKS” LIKE!!!

Brett:
Wha-what I—?

Jules:
[points gun directly in Brett's face] SAY "WHAT" AGAIN! SAY "WHAT" AGAIN! I DARE YOU! I DOUBLE-DARE YOU, MOTHERF***ER!! SAY "WHAT" ONE MORE GODDAMN TIME!!!!

Brett:
H-H-He's black...

Jules:
GO ON!

Brett:
...He's bald...!

Jules:
Does he look like a b*tch?!

Brett:
What? [Jules shoots Brett in the shoulder] AGHH!! Anh..!!

Jules:
DOES! HE! LOOK!... LIKE! A B*TCH?!?!

Brett:
NO!!!

Jules:
Then why'd you try to f*** him like a b*tch, Brett?

Brett:
I didn't...!

Jules:
Yes, you did! YES, you DID, Brett! You tried to f*** him.

Brett:
No... no....

Jules:
But Marsellus Wallace don't like to be f***ed by anybody except Mrs. Wallace. You read the Bible, Brett?

Brett:
[gasping for breath] Yes...!

Jules:
Well, there's this passage I've got memorized, it sorta fits the occasion. Ezekiel 25:17: "The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the iniquities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is He who in the name of charity and good will shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for He is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. [begins pacing about the room] And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy My brothers. And you will know My name is the Lord... [pulls out his gun and aims at Brett] …when I lay My vengeance upon thee."

[Brett shrieks in horror as Jules and Vincent shoot him repeatedly]

Marvin:
Oh f***. I'm f***ed. Oh f***, oh f***.

Vincent:
Is he a friend of yours?

Jules:
Hmm? Oh, Vincent, Marvin. Marvin, Vincent.

Vincent:
Better tell him to shut the f*** up, he's getting on my nerves.

Jules:
Marvin. Marvin. MARVIN! I'd knock that sh*t off if I was you.

Vincent:
You ever seen that show "Cops"? I was watching it one time, and there was this cop on, and he was talking about this gun fight he had in the hallway with this guy, right, and he just unloaded on this guy, and nothing happened, he didn't hit nothing. Okay, it was just him and this guy. I mean, you know, it's freaky, but it happens.

Jules:
Look, you want to play blind man, go walk with the shepherd, but me - my eyes are wide f***ing open.

Vincent:
The f*** does that mean?

Jules:
I mean, that's it for me. From here on in, you consider my ass retired.

Vincent:
Jesus Christ...

Jules:
No blasphemy.

Vincent:
God damn it, Jules...

Jules:
I said don't do that!

Vincent:
Hey, you know why the f*** you f***ing freaking out on us?

Jules:
Look, I'm telling Marsellus today, I'm through.

Vincent:
But why don't you tell him at the same time, why?

Jules:
Don't worry, I will.

Vincent:
Yeah, and I bet you ten thousand dollars he laughs his ass off.

Jules:
I don't give a damn if he does.

Vincent:
Marvin, what do you make of all this?

Marvin:
Man, I don't even have an opinion.

Vincent:
[Turns around, sloppily pointing his gun at Marvin] Well, you got to have an opinion! I mean, do you think that God came down from heaven and stopped the ... [Vincent's gun goes off]

Jules:
Oh! The f***'s happening?! Ah!

Vincent:
Oh sh*t!

Jules:
Man!

Vincent:
Oh, man, I shot Marvin in the face!

Jules:
What!? Why the f***'d you do that?!

Vincent:
Well, I didn't mean to do it, it was an accident.

Jules:
Oh man, I seen some crazy ass sh*t in my time, but this...

Vincent:
Chill out man, I told you it was an accident, you probably went over a bump or something.

Jules:
Hey, the car ain't hit no motherfucking bump.

Vincent:
Hey look man, I didn't mean to shoot the son of a b*tch, the gun went off I don't know why.

Jules:
Well look at this f***ing mess, man! We're on a city street in broad daylight here.

Vincent:
I don't believe it, man!

Jules:
Well, believe it now MOTHERF***ER, we got to get this car off the road! You know cops tend to notice sh*t like you're driving a car drenched in f***ing blood!

Vincent:
Just take it to a friendly place, that's all.

Jules:
This is the valley, Vincent. Marsellus ain't got no friendly places in the valley.

Vincent:
Well, Jules, this ain't my f***ing town, man!!

Jules:
Sh*t!

Vincent:
What you doing?

Jules:
Calling my partner in Toluca Lake.

Vincent:
Where's Toluca Lake?

Jules:
Just over the hill here, over by Burbank studios. If Jimmie's ass ain't home I don't know what the f*** we going to do man, cause I don't got no other partners in 818. [over the telephone] Jimmie, yo', how you doing, man, it's Jules. Just listen up, man, me and my homeboy in some serious f***ing sh*t, we're in a car we need to get off the road pronto. I need to use your garage for a couple hours...

Mia Wallace:
So, did you think of something to say?

Vincent Vega:
As a matter of fact, I did. However, you seem like a really nice person, and I don't want to offend you.

Mia Wallace:
Ooh! This doesn't sound like the usual mindless, boring, getting-to-know-you chit-chat. This sounds like you have something to say.

[Butch has saved Marsellus, who was being raped by Zed]

Butch:
You okay?

Marsellus:
...Nah, man. I'm pretty f***ing far from okay.

[Zed, who had just been shot by Marsellus, screams and moans in agony]

Butch:
What now?

Marsellus:
What now? Let me tell you what now. Imma call a couple of hard, pipe-hittin' niggas to go to work on the homes here with a pair of pliers and a blow torch. [to Zed] You hear me talking, hillbilly boy?! I ain't through with you by a goddamn sight. Imma get medieval on yo' 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.

Butch:
So we cool?

Marsellus:
Yeah, we cool. Two things: don't tell nobody about this. This sh*t 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 gone, you stay gone, or you be gone. You lost all your LA privileges. Deal?

Butch:
Deal.

Marsellus:
Now get your ass out of here.

Jules:
Mmm. Goddamn, Jimmie. This is some serious gourmet sh*t. Usually, me and Vince would be happy with some freeze-dried Taster's Choice, right? And he springs this serious gourmet sh*t on us. What flavor is this?

Jimmie:
Knock it off, Julie.

Jules:
What the f*** did you just call me?!

Jimmie:
I don't need you to tell me how f***ing good my coffee is, okay? I'm the one who buys it, I know how good it is. When Bonnie goes shopping, she buys sh*t. Me, 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 n*gger in my garage.

Jules:
Oh, Jimmie, don't even worry about that.

Jimmie:
No, I wanna ask you a question. When you came pullin' in here, did you notice a sign out in front of my house that said "Dead N*gger Storage"?

Jules:
Jimmie, you know I ain't seen no...

Jimmie:
[shouting] Did you notice a sign out in front of my house that said "Dead N*gger Storage"?

Jules:
No, I didn't.

Jimmie:
[shouting] You know why you didn't see that sign?

Jules:
Why?

Jimmie:
[still shouting] 'Cause it ain't there, 'cause storing dead n*ggers ain't my f***ing business, that's why.

Jules:
But Jimmie, we ain't gonna store the motherf***er.

Jimmie:
No, no, no, no, no, don't you f***ing realize, man, that if Bonnie comes home and finds a dead body in her house, I'm gonna get divorced? All right? No marriage counseling, no trial separation, I'm going to get f***ing divorced, okay? And I don't want to get f***ing divorced. Now man, you know, f***, I wanna help you, but I don't want to lose my wife doing it, all right?

Jules:
Jimmie, Jimmie, she ain't gonna leave you.

Jimmie:
Don't f***ing "Jimmie" me, Jules, okay? Don't f***ing "Jimmie" me. There's nothing that you're gonna say that's gonna make me forget that I love my wife, is there? Now look, you know, she comes home from work in about an hour and a half. Graveyard shift at the hospital. You gotta make some phone calls? You gotta call some people? Well, then do it. And then get the f*** out of my house before she gets here.

Jules:
Hey, that's Kool and the Gang. You know, we don't wanna f*** your sh*t up. All we wanna do is call my people and get them to bring us in, that's all.

Jimmie:
You don't wanna f*** my sh*t up? You're f***ing up my sh*t right now. You're gonna f*** my sh*t up big time if Bonnie comes home. So just do me that favor, all right? The phone is in my bedroom, I suggest you get going.

Marsellus:
[calmly] Yeah, I grasp that, Jules. All I'm doing is contemplating the ifs.

Jules:
[nervous] I don't wanna hear 'bout no motherfucking ifs. All I wanna hear from your ass is, "You ain't got no problem, Jules, I'm on the motherf***er. Go back in there, chill them niggas out and wait for the cavalry, which should be coming directly".

Marsellus:
You ain't got no problem, Jules. I'm on the motherf***er. Go back in there and chill them niggas out and wait for The Wolf, who should be coming directly.

Jules:
[Jules pauses and becomes calm] You sending The Wolf?

Marsellus:
Oh, you feel better, motherf***er?

Jules:
[laughing] Sh*t, negro, that's all you had to say!

The Wolf:
Okay, first thing: You two, take the body, stick it in the trunk. Now, Jimmy, this looks to be a pretty domesticated house. That would lead me to believe that in the garage or under the sink, you've got a bunch of cleaners and cleansers and sh*t like that?

Jimmy:
Yeah, Mr. Wolfe, under the sink.

The Wolf:
Good. What I need you, two fellas, to do is take those cleaning products and clean the inside of the car. I'm talking fast, fast, fast. You need to go in the back seat, scoop up all of those pieces of brain and skull, get it out of there, wipe down the upholstery. Now, when it comes to upholstery, it don't need to be spic-and-span. You don't need to eat off it, just give it a good once-over. What you need to take care of are the really messy parts. Those pools of blood, you got to soak that sh*t up. Now, Jimmy, we need to raid in your closet. I need blankets, I need comforters, I need quilts, I need bedspreads; the thicker the better, the darker the better. No whites, can't use 'em. We need to camouflage the interior of the car. We're going to line the front seat and the back seat and the floorboards with quilts and blankets. So, if a cop stops us and starts sticking his big snot in the car, the subterfuge won't last, but at a glance, the car will appear to be normal. Jimmy, lead the way. Boys, get to work.

Vincent:
A "please" would be nice.

The Wolf:
Come again?

Vincent:
I said a "please" would be nice.

The Wolf:
Get it straight, Buster. I'm not here to say "please". I'm here to tell you what to do. And if self-preservation is an instinct you possess, you better f***ing do it and do it quick. I'm here to help. If my help's not appreciated, lots of luck, gentlemen.

Jules:
No no, Mr. Wolfe, it's not like that. Your help is definitely appreciated.

Vincent:
Look, Mr. Wolfe, I respect you. I just don't like people barking orders at me, that's all.

The Wolf:
If I'm curt with you, it's because time is a factor. I think fast, I talk fast, and I need you two guys to act fast if you want to get out of this. So pretty please, with sugar on top, clean the f***ing car.

Jules:
[while cleaning the bloodied car] Oh man, I will never forgive your ass for this sh*t. This is some f***ed up repugnant sh*t.

Vincent:
Jules, did you ever hear the philosophy that once a man admits that he is wrong, that he is immediately forgiven for all wrongdoings? Have you ever heard that?

Jules:
Get the f*** outta my face with that sh*t. The motherf***er who said that sh*t never had to pick up itty bitty pieces of skull on the account of your dumb ass.

Vincent:
I got a threshold, Jules, I got a threshold for the abuse that I will take. And right now I’m a f***ing race-car, alright, and you got me in the red. And I’m just saying, I’m just saying that it’s f***ing dangerous to have a race-car in the f***ing red, that’s all. I could blow.

Jules:
Oh, oh, you ready to blow?

Vincent:
Yeah, I’m ready to blow.

Jules:
Well I’m a mushroom cloud layin’ motherf***er, motherf***er. Every time my fingers touch brain, I’m "Superfly TNT". I’m "The Guns of the Navarone". In fact, what the f*** am I doing in the back? You the motherf***er should be on brain detail. We’re f***ing switching. I’m washing the windows, and you picking up this nigga's skull.

Jules:
Man, I just been sitting here thinking.

Vincent:
About what?

Jules:
About the miracle we just witnessed.

Vincent:
The miracle you witnessed. I witnessed a freak occurrence.

Jules:
What is a miracle, Vincent?

Vincent:
An act of God.

Jules:
And what's an act of God?

Vincent:
When God makes the impossible possible. But this morning, I don't think it qualifies.

Jules:
Hey, Vincent, don't you see? That sh*t don't matter. You're judging this sh*t the wrong way. I mean, it could be that God stopped the bullets, or He changed Coke to Pepsi, He found my f***ing car keys. You don't judge sh*t like this based on merit. Now, 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.

Vincent:
But why?

Jules:
Well, that's what's f***ing with me. I don't know why, but I can't go back to sleep.

Vincent:
You serious? You're really thinking about quitting?

Jules:
The life?

Vincent:
Yeah.

Jules:
Most definitely.

Vincent:
Oh, f***. What'cha gonna do, then?

Jules:
Well, that's what I've been sitting here contemplating. First, I'm going to deliver this case to Marsellus, then, basically, I'm just going to walk the Earth.

Vincent:
What'cha mean, "walk the Earth"?

Jules:
You know, like Caine in Kung Fu: walk from place to place, meet people, get into adventures.

Vincent:
And how long do you intend to walk the Earth?

Jules:
Until God puts me where He wants me to be.

Vincent:
And what if He don't do that?

Jules:
If it takes forever, then I'll walk forever.

Vincent:
So you decided to be a bum?

Jules:
I'll just be Jules, Vincent; no more, no less.

Vincent:
No, Jules. You've decided to be a bum. Just like those pieces of sh*t out there who beg for change, sleep in garbage bins and eat what I throw away. They got a name for that, Jules: it's called "a bum". And without a job, a residence or legal tender, that's exactly what you're going to be: a f***ing bum.

Jules:
Look, my friend, this is just where you and I differ.

Vincent:
Jules, look, what happened this morning, I agree, it was peculiar. But water into wine, I...

Jules:
All shapes and sizes, Vincent.

Vincent:
Don't f***ing talk to me like that, man.

Jules:
If my answers frighten you, then you should cease asking scary questions.

Vincent:
[pauses, looking annoyed] I'm gonna take a sh*t. Let me ask you something, when did you make this decision? When you were sitting there eating that muffin?

Jules:
Yeah, I was sitting here, eating my muffin and drinking my coffee and replaying the incident in my head, when I had what alcoholics refer to as a moment of clarity.

Vincent:
F***. To be continued.

[Jules has a gun on Ringo; Yolanda points a gun at Jules, yelling hysterically]

Yolanda:
Don't you hurt him!

Jules:
Nobody's gonna hurt anybody. We're all gonna be three little Fonzies here, and what's Fonzie like?

[Yolanda stares at him, confused]

Jules:
Come on, Yolanda! What's Fonzie like?!

Yolanda:
Cool?

Jules:
What?

Yolanda:
Cool.

Jules:
Correct-a-mundo! And that's what we're gonna be - we're gonna be cool.

Toss the weapon

Take your foot off the n*igger, put your hands behind your head, approach the counter, right now.

....Maynard

Vincent:
I gotta know what a $5.00 shake tastes like.

Mia:
You can use my straw. I don't have cooties.

Vincent:
Yeah, but maybe I do.

Mia:
Cooties, I can handle.

Vincent:
All right...Goddamn, that's a pretty f***in' good milk shake.

Nobody fucks Marcellus Wallace except Mrs Wallace