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3rd Story: “THE GOLD WATCH”
[towards the end of his long speech to five year old Butch telling him about Butch’s great grandfather’s watch]
Captain Koons: This watch. 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 that if the gooks ever saw the watch it’d be confiscated, taken away. The way your Dad looked at it, this 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 somethin’. 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. Now, little man, I give the watch to you.
[in the cab after Butch has left the boxing match]
Esmeralda: What does it feel like?
Butch: What does what feel like?
Esmeralda: Killing a man. Beating another man to death with your bare hands.
Butch: What are you a weirdo?
Esmeralda: No. It’s a subject I have much interested in. You are the first person I have ever met who has killed somebody. So, what does it feel like to kill a man?
Butch: Tell you what, you give me one of them cigarettes you got up there and I’ll tell you all about it.
[Esmeralda hands him a cigarette]
Esmeralda: And what is your name?
Esmeralda: Butch. What does it mean?
Butch: I’m an American, honey. Our names don’t mean shit.
Esmeralda: I want to know what it feels like to kill a man…
Butch: I couldn’t tell ya. I didn’t know he was dead ’til you told me he was dead. Now I know he’s dead, do you wanna know how I feel about it?
[Esmeralda nods her head: “yes”]
Butch: I don’t feel the least bit bad about it.
[in the motel room]
Fabienne: I was looking at myself in the mirror.
Fabienne: I wish I had a pot.
Butch: You were lookin’ at yourself in the mirror and you wish you had some pot?
Fabienne: A pot. A pot belly. Pot bellies are sexy.
Butch: Well you should be happy, cause you have one.
Fabienne: Shut up, Fatso! I don’t have a pot! I have a bit of a tummy, like Madonna when she did “Lucky Star,” it’s not the same thing.
Butch: I didn’t know there was such a difference between a tummy and a pot belly.
Fabienne: The difference is huge.
Butch: Would you like it if I have a pot belly?
Fabienne: No. Pot bellies make a man look either oafish, or like a gorilla. But on a woman, a pot belly is very sexy. The rest of you is normal. Normal face, normal legs, normal hips, normal ass, but with a big, perfectly round pot belly. If I had one, I’d wear a tee-shirt two sizes too small to accentuate it.
Butch: You think men would find that attractive?
Fabienne: I don’t give a damn what men find attractive. It’s unfortunate what we find pleasing to the touch and pleasing to the eye is seldom the same.
Butch: I think I cracked a rib.
Fabienne: Giving me oral pleasure?
Butch: No, retard, from the fight.
Butch: Where’s my watch?
Fabienne: It’s there.
Butch: No it’s not.
Fabienne: Have you looked?
Butch: Yes I’ve fuckin’ looked!! What the fuck do you think I’m doing?! Are you sure you got it?
Fabienne: Yes, bedside table drawer.
Butch: On the little kangaroo.
Fabienne: Yes, it was on a little kangaroo.
Butch: Yeah, well it’s not here now!
Fabienne: Well it should be.
Butch: Yes, it most definitely should be but it’s not here now, so where the fuck is it?
Butch: Now all this other shit, you could have set on fire, but I specifically reminded you not to forget the fucking watch. Now think did you get it?
Fabienne: I believe so.
Butch: You believe so? What the fuck does that mean? You either did, or you didn’t get it!
Fabienne: Then I did.
Butch: Are you sure?
[shakes her head]
[explodes into a rampage]
Butch: Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Motherfucker! Motherfucking shit! Fucking whore! You fucking stupid! You fucking whore! No!
[he then calms down just as quickly and suddenly as he started]
Butch: It’s not your fault.
Butch: I’ll be back before you can say Blueberry pie.
Fabienne: Blueberry pie.
Butch: Maybe not that fast. But pretty fast. Okay?
[driving back to his apartment to get his watch Butch is beating the steering wheel and the dash with his fists]
Butch: Shit! Of all the fucking things she could fucking forget, she forgets my father’s watch! I specifically reminded her; bedside table! On the Kangaroo! I said the words, “Don’t forget my father’s watch.”
[Butch has stopped at traffic lights. Then we see Marsellus Wallace, clearly for the first time, crossing the street in front of Butch’s car, he stops midway and looks at Butch]
[after knocking Butch unconscious trying to stop Butch from killing Marsellus in his pawn shop, Maynard makes a call]
Maynard: Zed? It’s Maynard. Yeah, the spider just caught a coupl’a flies.
[talking to Butch and Marsellus who are sitting tied to chairs with S&M-style ball gags in their mouths]
Maynard: Nobody kills anybody in my place of business ‘cept me or Zed.
Maynard: That’s Zed.
Zed: Well, 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?
[after Butch saves Marsellus from being raped by Zed and Maynard]
Butch: You okay?
Marsellus: No, 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.
Marsellus: 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
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?
Marsellus: Get your ass outta here.
Fabienne: What happened to my Honda?
Butch: I’m sorry baby, I had to crash that Honda.
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 fucking day of my life! Come on, hop on, I’ll tell you all about it. Come on, get on. Gotta go.
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.
4th Story: “THE BONNIE SITUATION”
[man bursts out of the bathroom with his gun starts shooting at Jules and Vincent]
Man: Die you, motherfuckers! Die!
[he empties his entire gun, but amazingly the man hasn’t hit anyone. Jules and Vincent then both empty their guns at the same time onto the man]
Vincent: Why the fuck didn’t you tell us somebody was in the bathroom? Slipped your mind? Did you forget that someone was in there with a Goddamn hand cannon?
Jules: This was Divine Intervention! You know what “divine intervention” is?
Vincent: I think so. That means that God came down from Heaven and stopped the bullets.
Jules: That’s right. That’s exactly what it means! God came down from Heaven and stopped these motherfucking bullets.
Vincent: I think it’s time for us to leave Jules.
Jules: Don’t do that! Don’t fucking blow this shit off! What just happened here was a fucking miracle!
Vincent: Chill Jules, this shit happens.
Jules: Wrong! Wrong, this shit doesn’t just happen.
Vincent: Do you wanna continue this theological discussion in the car, or in the jail house with the cops?
Jules: We should be fuckin’ dead, my friend! What happened here was a miracle, and I want you to fucking acknowledge it!
Vincent: Alright, it was a miracle. Can we go now?
[in the car where Jules is behind the wheel, Vincent’s in the passenger seat and Marvin’s in the back]
Vincent: Marvin, what do you make of all this?
Marvin: Man, I don’t even have an opinion.
[Vincent turns to the backseat with his gun casually in his grip]
Vincent: Well you gotta have an opinion. I mean do you think that God came down from Heaven and stopped the…
[Vincent’s gun goes off!]
[after Vincent’s gun has accidently shot Marvin]
Vincent: Whoa, man! Shit!
Jules: What the fuck’s happening, man? Ah, shit, man!
Vincent: Oh, man. I shot Marvin in the face.
Jules: Why the fuck 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 shit in my time but this…
Vincent: Chill out, man. I told you it was an accident. You probably…you went over a bump or something.
Jules: Hey, the car didn’t hit no motherfucking bump.
Vincent: Hey, look man, I didn’t…I didn’t mean to shoot the son of a bitch. The gun went off. I don’t know why.
Jules: Well look at this fucking mess, man. We’re on a city street in broad daylight here!
Vincent: I don’t believe it.
Jules: Well believe it now, motherfucker! We gotta get this car off the road! You know cops tend to notice shit like you’re driving a car drenched in fucking blood.
Vincent: Just take it to a friendly place, that’s all.
Jules: This in the Valley, Vincent. Marsellus ain’t got no friendly places in the Valley.
Vincent: Well Jules this ain’t my fucking town, man!
[cleaning their bloody hands in Jimmie Dimmick’s bathroom]
Jules: Fuck, man, what the fuck did you do to his towel man?
Vincent: I was dryin’ my hands.
Jules: well 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 shit’s hard to get off. Maybe if he had Lava I could have done a better job.
Jules: I used the same fuckin’ soap you did and when I finished the towel didn’t look like no Goddamn Maxi-Pad!
[Jules, Vincent and Jimmie are drinking coffee in Jimmie’s kitchen]
Jules: Mmm! Goddamn, Jimmie! This is some serious gourmet shit! Me and Vincent would have been 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.
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, don’t think about anything. Now I wanna ask you a question. When you came pulling in here, did you notice a sign out in the front of my house that said “Dead Nigger Storage”?
Jules: Jimmie, you know I ain’t seen no shit…
Jimmie: Did you notice a sign out in the front of my house that said “Dead Nigger Storage”?
Jules: No. I didn’t.
Jimmie: You know why you didn’t see that sign?
Jimmie: Cause it ain’t there, cause storing dead niggers ain’t my fucking business, that’s why!
Jimmie: Now don’t you fucking realize man that if Bonnie comes home and finds a dead body in her house, I’m gonna get divorced, alright. No marriage counselor, no trial separation. I’m gonna get fuckin’ divorced. Okay? And I don’t wanna get fuckin’ divorced. Now then, you know, I mean, I wanna help you but I don’t wanna lose my wife doin’ it, alright?
[talking to Marsellus on the phone]
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 cavalry which should be coming directly.”
Marsellus: You ain’t got no problem, Jules. I’m on the motherfucker. Go back in there and chill them niggers out and wait for the Wolf who should be coming directly.
Jules: You sendin’ The Wolf.
Marsellus: You feel better, motherfucker.
Jules: Shit negro, that’s all you had to say.
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.
[Jimmie takes The Wolf to the kitchen]
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 A.M., is that correct?
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 won’t at that.
The Wolf: That gives us…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.
[after giving instruction as to how to clean up the mess in the car]
The Wolf: Jimmie, 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’d better fucking do it and do it quick. I’m here to help, if my help’s not appreciated, lots of luck, gentlemen.
Jules: No, no, no Mr. Wolf, it ain’t like that, your help is definitely appreciated.
Vincent: Mr. Wolf, listen. I don’t mean any disrespect. Okay. 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 guys to act fast if you wanna get out of this. So, pretty please…with sugar on top. Clean the fucking car.
[Vincent and Jules are cleaning the inside of the car which is covered in blood]
Jules: Oh, man, I will never forgive your ass for this shit. This is some fucked-up repugnant shit.
Vincent: Jules, did you ever hear the philosophy that once a man admits that he’s wrong that he is immediately forgiven for all wrongdoings? Have you ever heard that?
Jules: Get the fuck out my face with that shit! The motherfucker that said that shit never had to pick up itty-bitty pieces of skull on account of your dumb ass.
Vincent: I got a threshold, Jules. I got a threshold for the abuse that I will take. Now, right now, I’m a fuckin’ race car, right, and you got me the red. And I’m just sayin’, I’m just sayin’ that it’s fuckin’ dangerous to have a race car in the fuckin’ 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’ motherfucker, motherfucker! Every time my fingers touch brain, I’m Superfly T.N.T., I’m the Guns of the Navarone! In fact, what the fuck am I doin’ in the back? You’re the motherfucker who should be on brain duty! We’re fuckin’ switchin’! I’m washin’ the windows, and you’re pickin’ up this nigger’s skull!
[examining the car in Jimmie’s garage after Jules and Vincent have cleaned it]
Jimmie: I can’t believe this is the same car.
The Wolf: Well, let’s not start sucking each other’s dicks quite yet.
The Wolf: Strip.
Vincent: All the way?
The Wolf: To your bare ass. Quickly gentlemen. We got about fifteen minute before Jimmie’s better half comes pulling into the driveway.
[Jules and Vincent start undressing]
Jules: Damn, this mornin’ air is some chilly shit.
Vincent: Are you sure this is absolutely necessary?
The Wolf: You know what you two look like?
The Wolf: Like a couple of guys who just blew off somebody’s head. Stripping off those bloody rags is absolutely necessary. Toss ’em in Jim’s garbage bag.
Vincent: Don’t do nothin’ stupid, like leavin’ this shit out in front for Aldo the garbage man to pick up. You know what I’m sayin’.
The Wolf: Don’t worry we’re takin’ it with us. Jim, the soap
[Jimmie gives Jules and Vincent soap]
The Wolf: Okay gentlemen you’ve both been in county before I’m sure, here it comes.
[sprays them both with the garden hose]
[looking at Jules and Vincent in their tee-shirts and shorts]
The Wolf: You guys look like…what do they look like, Jimmie?
Jimmie: Dorks. They look like a couple of dorks.
[both The Wolf and Jimmie start to laugh]
Jules: Ha-ha-ha. They’re your clothes, motherfucker.
The Wolf: Okay gentlemen, let’s get our rules of the road straight. We’re going to a place called Monster Joe’s Truck and Tow. Now Monster Joe and his daughter Raquel are sympathetic to our dilemma. The place is North Hollywood. So a few twist and turns aside, we’ll be goin’ up Hollywood Way. Now, I’ll drive the tainted car. Jules, you ride with me. Vincent, you follow in my Acura. Now if we come across the path of any John Q. Laws, nobody does a fuckin’ thing until I do somethin’.
The Wolf: 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.
The Wolf: How about you, Lash LaRue? Can keep your spurs from jinglin’ and janglin’?
Vincent: Mr. Wolf, look, the gun went off and I don’t know why. I’m cool, I promise you.
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.
The Wolf: I’m takin’ m’lady out for breakfast. Maybe I can drop you two off. Where do you live?
The Wolf: It’s your future…I…I see a…a cab ride. Move out of the sticks, fellas.
Jules: Mr. Wolf, I just wanna tell you it was a real pleasure watchin’ you work.
Vincent: Yeah, really and thank you very much, Mr. Wolf.
The Wolf: Call me Winston.
[walking to his car with Raquel]
The Wolf: You see that, young lady? Respect. Respect for one’s elders shows character.
Raquel: I have character.
The Wolf: Because you are a character doesn’t mean that you have character.
[in the diner having breakfast talking to Vincent about thought the Wolf]
Jules: I don’t why, I just thought he would be European or somethin’.
Vincent: Yeah man, he’s about as European as fuckin’ English Bob.
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: Yeah but 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 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 charming motherfuckin’ pig. I mean he’d have to be ten times more charmin’ than that Arnold on Green Acres, you know what I’m sayin’?
Jules: Man, I just been sittin’ here thinkin’.
Vincent: About what?
Jules: About the miracle we 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 em…God makes the impossible possible. But this morning I don’t think qualifies.
Jules: Hey, Vincent, don’t you see that shit don’t matter. You’re judging this shit the wrong way. I mean it could be God stopped the bullets or he changed Coke to Pepsi, he found my fuckin’ car keys. You don’t judge shit like this based on merit. Now whether or not what we experienced was an according-to-Hoyle miracle is insignificant. But what is significant is I felt the touch of God. God got involved.
Vincent: But why?
Jules: Well that’s what’s fuckin’ wit’ me! I don’t know why. But I can’t go back to sleep.
Vincent: What you gonna do then?
Jules: Well that’s what I’ve been sitting here contemplating. First, I’m gonna deliver this case to Marsellus. Then, basically, I’m just gonna walk the earth.
Vincent: What’cha mean walk the earth?
Jules: You know, like Cain in “Kung Fu” walk from place to place, meet people… get into adventures.
Vincent: So you decided to be a bum?
Jules: I’ll just be Jules, Vincent. No more, no less.
Jules: If my answers frighten you, Vincent, then you should cease asking scary questions.
Vincent: I’m goin’ to take a shit.
[he gets up to leave]
Vincent: Let me ask you somthin’. When did you decide to make this decision? When you were sitting there eatin’ that muffin?
Jules: Well yeah, I was sittin’ here eatin’ my muffin and drinkin’ my coffee and replayin’ the incident in my head when I had what alcoholics would refer to as a moment of clarity.
Vincent: Fuck…to be continued.
[Next we see Pumpkin and Honey Bunny rising with their guns, and we realize we are back to the very first scene when they decide to rob the diner]
Pumpkin: What’s in the case?
Jules: My boss’s dirty laundry.
Honey Bunny: What’s goin’ on?
Pumpkin: Looks like we got a vigilante in our midst.
Honey Bunny: Shoot ’em in the face!
Jules: I hate to shatter your ego, but this ain’t the first time I’ve had gun pointed at me.
Pumpkin: You don’t take you fuckin’ hand off that case it’ll be your last.
[to the diner manager]
Jules: Shut the fuck up, fat man! This ain’t none of your Goddamn business.
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 all gonna be like three little Fonzies here. And what’s Fonzie like? Come on, Yolanda, what’s Fonzie like?
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, I want you to let go of your gun, put your palms flat on the table and sit your ass down. And when you do it, you do it cool. You ready? One… two…three.
[Ringo sits down opposite Jules]
Yolanda: Okay, now you let him go.
Jules: Yolanda, I thought 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: Just know, you hurt, 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. So let’s see what we can do.
Jules: Vincent! Be cool!
[we then see Vincent who has just come out of the toilet and is pointing his gun at Yolanda and she whips her gun towards him]
Jules: Yolanda, it’s cool baby. It’s cool! We’re still just talkin’. Come on, point the gun at me. Point the gun at me.
[Yolanda whips her gun towards Jules]
Jules: There you go. Now, Vincent, you just hang back and don’t do a Goddamn thing.
Jules: Tell her we’re still cool.
Jules: How we doin, baby?
Yolanda: I gotta go pee! I wanna go home.
Jules: Just hang in there, baby. You’re doing’ great. I’m proud of you and Ringo’s proud of you. It’s almost over. Tell her you’re proud of her.
Pumpkin: Proud of you, Honey Bunny.
Yolanda: I love you!
Pumpkin: I love you too, Honey Bunny.
Jules: Now I want you to go in that bag, and find my wallet.
Pumpkin: Which one is it?
Jules: It’s the one that says Bad Motherfucker.
Vincent: Jules, if you give that fuckin’ nimrod fifteen hundred dollars and I’ll shoot him on general principle.
[Yolanda whips her gun back to Vincent]
Jules: No! Yolanda! Yolanda! He ain’t gonna do a Goddamn motherfuckin’ thing. Vince, shut the fuck up!
Yolanda: Shut up!
Jules: Come on, Yolanda, stay with me baby. Now I ain’t givin’ it to him, Vincent. I’m buyin’ somethin’ for my money. Wanna know what I’m buyin’, Ringo?
Jules: Your life. I’m givin’ you that money so I don’t have to kill your ass. You read the Bible?
Pumpkin: Not regularly.
Jules: Well there’s this 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 heard it, that meant your ass. I never gave much thought to what it meant. I just thought it was some cold-blooded shit to say to a motherfucker before I popped a cap in his ass. But I saw some shit this mornin’ that made me think twice. See, now I’m thinkin’: maybe it means 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 mean you’re the righteous man and I’m the shepherd and it’s the world that’s evil and selfish. And 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’, Ringo. I’m tryin’ real hard to be the shepherd.
Vincent: I think we should be leaving now.
Jules: Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.
[Jules grabs the briefcase and start to walk out of the diner]
Total Quotes: 101
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