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PULP FICTION
Quentin Tarantino




Pulp
(pulp)n.
1. A soft shapeless mass of matter.
2. A book containing lurid subject matter, and being characteristically printed on rough, unfinished paper.

American Heritage Dictionary
New College Edition




HONEY BUNNY: Here? It's a coffee shop.

PUMPKIN: What's wrong with that? People never rob restaurants, why not? Bars, liquor stores, gas stations, you get your head blown off stickin' up one of them. Restaurants, on the other hand, you catch with their pants down. They're not expecting to get robbed, or not as expecting.

HONEY BUNNY: I bet in places like this you could cut down on the hero factor.

PUMPKIN: Correct. Just like banks, these places are insured. The managers don't give a fuck, they're just tryin' to get ya out the door before you start pluggin' diners. Waitresses, forget it, they ain't takin' a bullet for the register. Busboys, some wetback gettin' paid a dollar fifty a hour gonna really give a fuck you're stealin' from the owner. Customers are sittin' there with food in their mouths, they don't know what's goin' on. One minute they're havin' a Denver omelette, next minute somebody's stickin' a gun in their face.




HONEY BUNNY: Here? It's a coffee shop.

PUMPKIN: What's wrong with that? People never rob restaurants, why not? Bars, liquor stores, gas stations, you get your head blown off stickin' up one of them. Restaurants, on the other hand, you catch with their pants down. They're not expecting to get robbed, or not as expecting.

HONEY BUNNY: I bet in places like this you could cut down on the hero factor.

PUMPKIN: Correct. Just like banks, these places are insured. The managers don't give a fuck, they're just tryin' to get ya out the door before you start pluggin' diners. Waitresses, forget it, they ain't takin' a bullet for the register. Busboys, some wetback gettin' paid a dollar fifty a hour gonna really give a fuck you're stealin' from the owner. Customers are sittin' there with food in their mouths, they don't know what's goin' on. One minute they're havin' a Denver omelette, next minute somebody's stickin' a gun in their face.




PUMPKIN: Everybody be cool this is a robbery!

HONEY BUNNY: Any of you fuckin' pricks move and I'll execute every one of you motherfuckers!




JULES: Well, hash is legal there, right?

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

JULES: Those are hash bars?

VINCENT: Yeah, it breaks down like this: 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 legal to carry it, which doesn't really matter 'cause -- get a load of this -- if the cops stop you, it's illegal for them to search you. Searching you is a right that the cops in Amsterdam don't have.




VINCENT: Well, in Amsterdam, you can buy beer in a movie theatre. And I don't mean in a paper cup either. They give you a glass of beer, like in a bar. In Paris, you can buy beer at MacDonald's. Also, you know what they call a Quarter Pounder with Cheese in Paris?

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

VINCENT: No, they got the metric system there, they wouldn't know what the fuck a Quarter Pounder is.

JULES: What'd they call it?

VINCENT: Royale with Cheese.

JULES: Royale with Cheese. What'd they call a Big Mac?

VINCENT: Big Mac's a Big Mac, but they call it Le Big Mac.

JULES: What do they call a Whopper?

VINCENT: I dunno, I didn't go into a Burger King. But you know what they put on french fries in Holland instead of ketchup?

JULES: What?

VINCENT: Mayonnaise.

JULES: Goddamn!

VINCENT: I seen 'em do it. And I don't mean a little bit on the side of the plate, they fuckin' drown 'em in it.




JULES: It was a foot massage, a foot massage is nothing, I give my mother a foot massage.




JULES: It ain't no ballpark either. Look maybe your method of massage differs from mine, but touchin' his lady's feet, and stickin' your tongue in her holyiest of holyies, ain't the same ballpark, ain't the same league, ain't even the same fuckin' sport. Foot massages don't mean shit.




VINCENT: I'm not sayin' he was right, but you're sayin' a foot massage don't mean nothing, and I'm sayin' it does. I've given a million ladies a million foot massages and they all meant somethin'. We act like they don't, but they do. That's what's so fuckin' cool about 'em. This sensual thing's goin' on that nobody's talkin about, but you know it and she knows it, fuckin' Marsellus knew it, and Antwan shoulda known fuckin' better. That's his fuckin' wife, man. He ain't gonna have a sense of humor about that shit.




VINCENT: Well, Marsellus is leavin' for Florida and when he's gone, he wants me to take care of Mia.

JULES: Take care of her?

VINCENT: Not that! Take her out. Show her a good time. Don't let her get lonely.

JULES: You're gonna be takin' Mia Wallace out on a date?

VINCENT: It ain't a date. It's like when you and your buddy's wife go to a movie or somethin'. It's just... you know... good company. It's not a date.




JULES: Hamburgers. The cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast.




JULES: What country you from!

BRETT: What?

JULES: "What" ain't no country I know! Do they speak English in "What?"

BRETT: What?

JULES: English-motherfucker-can-you-speak-it?

BRETT: Yes.

JULES: Then you understand what I'm sayin'?

BRETT: Yes.

JULES: Now describe what Marsellus Wallace looks like!

BRETT: What?

JULES: Say "What" again! C'mon, say "What" again! I dare ya, I double dare ya motherfucker, say "What" one more goddamn time! Now describe to me what Marsellus Wallace looks like!

BRETT: Well he's ...he's...black --

JULES: -- go on!

BRETT: ...and he's...he's...tall --

JULES: -- does he look like a bitch?!

BRETT: What?

JULES: Does-he-look-like-a-bitch?!

BRETT: No.

JULES: Then why did you try to fuck 'im like a bitch?!




JULES: There's a passage I got memorized, seems appropriate for this situation: 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 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 my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you."




VINCENT: Look, I'm not a idiot. She's the big man's fuckin' wife. I'm gonna sit across a table, chew my food with my mouth closed, laugh at her jokes and that's all I'm gonna do.




TRUDI: You know how they use that gun when they 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 piercing, sixteen places on my body, every one of 'em 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 through my lip. One in my clit. And I wear a stud in my tongue.




MIA: If you were "Archie," who would you fuck first, Betty or Veronica?

VINCENT: Betty. I never understood Veronica attraction.

MIA: Have you ever fantasized about being beaten up by a girl?

VINCENT: Sure.

MIA: Who.

VINCENT: Emma Peel on "The Avengers." That tough girl who usta hang out with Encyclopedia Brown. And Arlene Motika.

MIA: Who's Arlene Motika?

VINCENT: Girl from sixth grade, you don't know her.




VINCENT: Did you just order a five-dollar shake?

MIA: Sure did.

VINCENT: A shake? Milk and ice cream?

MIA: Uh-huh.

VINCENT: It costs five dollars?

MIA: Yep.

VINCENT: You don't put bourbon in it or anything?

WAITOR: Nope.

VINCENT: Just checking.




MIA: "Fox Force Five." Fox, as in we're a bunch of foxy chicks. Force, as in we're a force to be reckoned with. Five, as in there's one.. two.. three.. four.. five of us.




VINCENT: Can I have a sip of that? I'd like to know what a five-dollar shake tastes like.

MIA: Be my guest. You can use my straw, I don't have kooties.

VINCENT: Yeah, but maybe I do.

MIA: Kooties I can handle.

VINCENT: Goddamn! That's a pretty fuckin' good milk shake.

MIA: Told ya.

VINCENT: I don't know if it's worth five dollars, but it's pretty fuckin' good.




VINCENT: What do you think about what happened to Antwan?

MIA: Who's Antwan?

VINCENT: Tony Rocky Horror.

MIA: He fell out of a window.

VINCENT: That's one way to say it. Another way is, he was thrown out. Another way is, he was thrown out by Marsellus. And even another way is, he was thrown out of a window by Marsellus because of you.




MIA: A husband being protective of his wife is one thing. A husband almost killing another man for touching his wife's feet is something else.

VINCENT: But did it happen?

MIA: The only thing Antwan ever touched of mine was my hand, when he shook it. I met Antwan once -- at my wedding -- then never again. The truth is, nobody knows why Marsellus tossed Tony Rocky Horror out of that window except Marsellus and Tony Rocky Horror. But when you scamps get together, you're worse than a sewing circle.




LANCE: I've never done this before either, and I ain't starting now. You brought 'er here, that means you give her the shot. The day I bring an O.D.ing bitch to your place, then I gotta give her the shot.

VINCENT: Okay, what do I do?

LANCE: Well, you're giving her an injection of adrenalin straight to her heart. But she's got a breast plate in front of her heart, so you gotta pierce through that. So what you gotta do is bring the needle down in a stabbing motion.

VINCENT: I gotta stab her?

LANCE: If you want the needle to pierce through to her heart, you gotta stab her hard. Then once you do, push down on the plunger.

VINCENT: What happens after that?

LANCE: I'm curious about that myself.

VINCENT: This ain't a fuckin' joke man!




CAPT. KOONS: This watch was on your Daddy's wrist when he was shot down over Hanoi. He was captured and put in a Vietnamese prison camp. Now he knew if the gooks ever saw the watch it's be confiscated. The way your Daddy looked at it, that watch was your birthright. And he'd be damned if and slopeheads 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 somethin'. His ass. Five long years, he wore this watch up his ass. Then when he died of disentary, he gave me the watch. I hid with uncomfortable hunk 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.




BUTCH: ...Esmarelda Villalobos -- is that Mexican?

ESMARELDA: The name is Spanish, but I'm Columbian.

BUTCH: It's a very pretty name.

ESMARELDA: It means "Esmarelda of the wolves."

BUTCH: That's one hell of a name you got there, sister.

ESMARELDA: Thank you. And what is your name?

BUTCH: Butch.

ESMARELDA: Butch. What does it mean?

BUTCH: I'm an American, our names don't mean shit.




FABIENNE: So if we wanted, we could live in Bora Bora?

BUTCH: You betcha. And if after awhile you don't dig Bora Bora, then we can move over to Tahiti or Mexico.

FABIENNE: But I do not speak Spanish.

BUTCH: You don't speak Bora Boran either. Besides, Mexican is easy: Donde esta el zapataria?

FABIENNE: What does that mean?

BUTCH: Where's the shoe store?




BUTCH: This is my war. You see, Butch, what you're forgettin' is this watch isn't just a device that enables you to keep track of time. This watch is a symbol. It's a symbol of how your father, and his father before him, and his father before him, distinguished themselves in war. And when I took Marsellus Wallace's money, I started a war. This is my World War Two. That apartment in North Hollywood, that's my Wake Island. In fact, if you look at it that way, it's almost kismet that Fabienne left it behind. And using that perspective, going back for it isn't stupid. It may be dangerous, but it's not stupid. Because there are certain things in this world that are worth going back for.




JULES: That was...divine intervention. You know what divine intervention is?

VINCENT: Yeah, I think so. That means God came down from Heaven and stopped the bullets.

JULES: Yeah, man, that's what is means. That's exactly what it means! God came down from Heaven and stopped the bullets.

VINCENT: I think we should be going now.

JULES: Don't do that! Don't you fuckin' do that! Don't blow this shit off! What just happened was a fuckin' miracle!




JULES: Look at this mess! We're drivin' around on a city street in broad daylight --

VINCENT: -- I know, I know, I wasn't thinkin' about the splatter.

JULES: Well you better be thinkin' about it now, motherfucker! We gotta get this car off the road. Cops tend to notice shit like you're driving a car drenched in fuckin' blood.




JIMMIE: I'm not a cobb or corn, so you can stop butterin' me up. I don't need you to tell me how good my coffee is. I'm the one who buys it, I know how fuckin' good it is. When Bonnie goes shoppin;, she buys shit. I buy the gourmet expensive stuff 'cause when I drink it, I wanna taste it. But what's on my mind at this moment isn't the coffee in my kitchen, it's the dead nigger in my garage.

VINCENT: Jimmie --

JIMMIE: -- I'm talkin'. Now let me ask you a question, Jules. When you drove in here, did you notice a sign out front that said, "Dead nigger storage?" -- answer to question. Did you see a sign out in front of my house that said, "Dead nigger storage?"

VINCENT: Naw man, I didn't.

JIMMIE: You know why you didn't see that sign?

VINCENT: Why?

JIMMIE: 'Cause storin' dead niggers ain't my fuckin' business!




THE WOLF: Set is straight, Buster. I'm not here to say "please." I'm here to tell you want to do. And if self-preservation is an instinct you possess, you better fuckin' do it and do it quick. I'm here to help. If my help's not appreciated, lotsa luck gentlemen.

JULES: It ain't that way, Mr. Wolf. Your help is definitely appreciated.

VINCENT: I don't mean any disrespect. I just don't like people barkin' orders at me.

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 guys to act fast if you want to get out of this. So pretty please, with sugar on top, clean the fuckin' car.




JULES: I will never forgive your ass for this shit. This is some fucked-up repugnant shit!

VINCENT: Did you ever hear the philosophy that once a man admits he's wrong, he's immediately forgiven for all wrong-doings?

JULES: Man, get outta my face with that shit! The motherfucker who said that never had to pick up itty-bitty pieces of skull with his fingers on account of your dumb ass.

VINCENT: I got a threshold, Jules. I got a threshold for the abuse I'll take. And you're crossin' it. I'm a race car and you got me in the red. Redline 7000, that's where you are. Just know, it's fuckin' dangerous to be drivin' a race car when it's in the red. It could blow.

JULES: You're gettin' ready to blow? I'm a mushroom-cloud-layin' motherfucker! Every time my fingers touch brain I'm "SUPERFLY T.N.T," I'm the "GUNS OF NAVARONE." I'm what Jimmie Walker usta talk about. In fact, what the fuck am I doin' in the back? You're the motherfucker should be on brain detail. We're tradin'. I'm washin' windows and you're pickin' up this nigger's skull.




THE WOLF: Perfect. Perfect. We couldn't've planned this better. 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, motherfucker.

JIMMIE: I guess you just gotta know how to wear them.




THE WOLF: I drive real fuckin' fast, so keep up. If I get my car back any different than I gave it, Monster Joe's gonna be disposing of two bodies.

JULES: Why do you drive fast?

THE WOLF: Because it's a lot of fun.




WINSTON: Just because you are a character doesn't mean you have character.




JULES: They're filthy animals. I don't eat filthy animals.

VINCENT: Sausages taste good. Pork chops taste good.

JULES: A sewer rat may taste like pumpkin pie. I'll never know 'cause even if it did, I wouldn't eat the filthy motherfucker. Pigs sleep and root in shit. That's a filthy animal. I don't wanna eat nothin' that ain't got enough sense to disregard its own faeces.

VINCENT: How about dogs? Dogs eat their own faeces.

JULES: I don't eat dog either.

VINCENT: Yes, 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. And personality goes a long way.

VINCENT: So by that rationale, if a pig had a better personality, he's cease to be a filthy animal?

JULES: We'd have to be talkin' 'bout one motherfuckin' charmin' pig. It'd have to be the Cary Grant of pigs.




VINCENT: How long do you intend to walk the earth?

JULES: Until God puts me where he want me to be.

VINCENT: What if he never does?

JULES: If it takes forever, I'll wait forever.

VINCENT: So you decided to be a bum?

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




JULES: If you find my answers frightening, Vincent, you should cease askin' scary questions.




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 shit 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 motherfucker 'fore you popped a cap in his ass. But I saw some shit 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 shit ain't the truth. The truth is you're the weak. And I'm the tyranny of evil men. But I'm tryin'. I'm tryin' real hard to be a shepherd.






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