Starring: John Travolta, Samuel L. Jackson, Uma Thurman, Harvey Keitel, Tim Roth, Amanda Plummer, Maria de Medeiros, Ving Rhames, Eric Stoltz, Rosanna Arquette, Christopher Walken, Bruce Willis
OUR RATING: ★★★★★
Crime drama written and directed by Quentin Tarantino, in which the story follows two mob hitmen Jules Winnfield (Samuel L. Jackson) and Vincent Vega (John Travolta), is an aging boxer, Butch Coolidge (Bruce Willis), a gangster’s wife, Mia (Uma Thurman), and a pair of diner bandits, Pumpkin and Honey Bunny (Tim Roth and Amanda Plummer), intertwine in four tales of violence and redemption as the lives of these seemingly unrelated people are woven together comprising of a series of funny, bizarre and uncalled-for incidents.
Best Quotes (Total Quotes: 88)
Pumpkin: Forget it. It’s too risky. I’m through doing that shit.
Honey Bunny: You always say that. The 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.
Honey Bunny: 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.
Pumpkin: I mean 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. Federal banks ain’t supposed to stop you anyway during a robbery. I mean, they’re insured, why should they give a fuck? You don’t even need a gun in a federal bank. Heard about this one bloke, walks into a bank with a portable phone. He gives the phone to the teller, the bloke on the other end of the phone says, we’ve got this guy’s little girl, if you don’t give him all your money, we’re going to kill her.
Honey Bunny: Did it work?
Pumpkin: Fucking-A right, it worked. That’s what I’m saying. Knucklehead walks into a bank with a telephone! Not a pistol, not a shotgun, but a fucking phone. Cleans the place out, they don’t even lift a fucking finger.
Honey Bunny: Did they hurt the little girl?
Pumpkin: I don’t know, there probably never was a little girl in the first place. What I, the point of the story isn’t the little girl, the point of the story is, they robbed a bank with a telephone.
Honey Bunny: 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.
Honey Bunny: And 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. Vietnamese, Koreans, they don’t even speak fucking English. You tell them, ’empty out the register’, they don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. They make it too personal, one of these gook fuckers is going to make us kill him.
Honey Bunny: I’m not going to kill anybody.
Pumpkin: I don’t want to kill anybody either. But they’ll probably put us in a situation where it’s us or them. And if it’s not the gooks, it’s these old fucking Jews who’ve owned the store for fifteen fucking generations, you’ve got Grampa Irving sitting behind the counter with a fucking Magnum in his hand. Try walking into one of those places with nothing but a phone, see how far that gets you. Fucking forget it. We’re out of it.
Pumpkin: Garcon! Coffee!
[looks at Honey Bunny]
Pumpkin: This place.
[the waitress approaches the table and refills Pumpkin’s cup]
Waitress: ‘Garcon’ means boy.
Pumpkin: Same as last time remember. You’re crowd control, I’ll handle the employees.
Honey Bunny: I love you, Pumpkin.
Pumpkin: I love you, Honey Bunny.
[Standing up on their table with a gun]
Pumpkin: Everybody be cool this is a robbery!
Honey Bunny: Any of you fucking pricks move, and I’ll execute every motherfucking last one of ya!
1st Story: Prelude to “VINCENT VEGA & MARSELLUS WALLACE’S WIFE”
Vincent: But you know what the funniest thing about Europe is?
Vincent: It’s the little differences. I mean they got the same shit t over there that they got here, but it’s just there it’s a little different.
Vincent: Alright, 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 beer at MacDonald’s. You know what they call a Quarter Pounder with Cheese in Paris?
Jules: They don’t call it a Quarter Pounder with Cheese?
Vincent: They got the metric system, they wouldn’t know what the fuck a Quarter Pounder is.
Jules: What’d they call it?
Vincent: They call it a Royale with Cheese.
Jules: [repeating] 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: Le Big Mac. What do they call a Whopper?
Vincent: I don’t know, I didn’t go into a Burger King. But you know what they put on French fries in Holland instead of ketchup?
[talking about Mia, Marsellus Wallace’s wife]
Jules: I think her biggest deal was she starred in a pilot.
Vincent: Pilot? What’s a pilot?
Jules: Well, 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?
Jules: Well, the way they pick TV shows is, they make one show. That show’s called a pilot. Then they show that one show to the people who pick shows, and on the strength of that one show they decide if they’re want to make more shows. Some get chosen and become television programs. Some don’t, become nothing. She starred in one of the ones that became nothing.
Vincent: So what’d he do, fuck her?
Jules: No, no, no, no, no, no, no, nothing that bad.
Vincent: Well what then?
Jules: He gave her a foot massage.
Vincent: A foot massage? That’s it?
Vincent: But still I have to say, you play with matches you get burned.
Jules: What do you mean?
Vincent: You don’t be giving Marsellus Wallace’s new bride a foot massage.
Jules: You don’t think he overreacted?
Jules: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, stop right there. Eating a bitch out, and giving a bitch a foot massage ain’t even the same fucking thing.
Vincent: It’s not. It’s the same ballpark.
Jules: Ain’t no fucking 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 her Holiest of Holies, ain’t the same fucking ballpark, it ain’t the same league, it ain’t even the same fucking sport. Look, foot massages don’t mean shit.
Vincent: Have you ever given a foot massage?
Jules: [scoffs] Don’t be telling me about foot massages. I’m the foot fucking master.
Vincent: You given a lot of ’em?
Jules: Shit yeah. Got my technique down and everything, I don’t be tickling or nothing.
Vincent: Would you give a guy a foot massage?
[Jules gives Vincent a long look, realizing he’s been set up]
Jules: Fuck you.
Vincent: You give them a lot?
Jules: Fuck you.
Vincent: You know, I’m kind of tired. I could use a foot massage myself.
Jules: Yo-yo man, you best back off, I’m getting a little pissed here.
Jules: Now look, just cause I wouldn’t give no man a foot massage don’t make it right for Marsellus to throw Antwan off a building into a glass motherfucking house, fucking up the way the nigger talks. That shit ain’t right. Motherfucker do that shit to me, he better paralyze my ass, cause I’ll kill the motherfucker, 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. But we act like they don’t, but they do, and that’s what’s so fucking cool about them. There’s a sensuous thing going on where you don’t talk about it, but you know it, she knows it, fucking Marsellus knew it, and Antwan should have fucking better known better. I mean, that’s his fucking wife, man. He ain’t going to have a sense of humor about this shit. You know what I’m saying?
Jules: That’s an interesting point. Come on, let’s get into character.
Jules: Hey kids! How you boys doing?
[to the man lying on the couch]
Jules: Hey, keep chilling. You know who we are? We’re associates of your business partner Marsellus Wallace. You do remember your business partner don’t you? Now let me take a wild guess here. You’re Brett, right?
Jules: I thought so. You remember your business partner Marsellus Wallace, don’t you, Brett?
Brett: Yeah, I remember him.
Jules: Looks like me and Vincent caught you boys at breakfast, sorry ’bout that. What’cha having?
Jules: Hamburgers. The cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast.
[Jules grabs Brett’s burger and take a bite of it]
Jules: Uuummm, this is a tasty burger. Vincent, you ever try a Big Kahuna Burger?
Jules: Want a bite, they’re real tasty.
Vincent: I ain’t hungry.
Jules: Well, if you like burgers give ’em a try sometime. Me, I can’t usually get ’em myself because my girlfriend’s a vegetarian which pretty much makes me a vegetarian. But I do love the taste of a good burger. Mmm. You know what they call a Quarter Pounder with cheese in France?
Jules: Tell ’em, Vincent.
Vincent: Royale with cheese.
Jules: Royale with cheese! You know why they call it that?
Brett: Because of the metric system?
Jules: Check out the big brain on Brett! You’re a smart motherfucker. That’s right. The metric system. What’s in this?
[pointing to the cup of drink in front of Brett]
Jules: Sprite, good. You mind if I have some of your tasty beverage to wash this down?
Brett: Go right ahead.
[takes a long sip of the drink]
Jules: Aaah, that hit the spot.
Jules: What does Marsellus Wallace look like?
[looking very confused and frightened]
Jules: What country you from?
Jules: “What” ain’t no country I ever heard of! They speak English in “what”?
Jules: English, motherfucker! Do you speak it?
Jules: Then you know what I’m saying!
Jules: You read the Bible, Brett?
Brett: [in spasm] Yes.
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 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. 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.”
[Jules and Vincent then both empty their guns at the same time onto Brett]
2nd Story: “VINCENT VEGA & MARSELLUS WALLACE’S WIFE”
[talking out of shot to Butch]
Marsellus: I think you’re going to find, when all this shit is over and done, I think you’re going to find yourself one smiling motherfucker. Thing is Butch, right now you got ability. But painful as it may be, ability don’t last. And your days are just about over. Now that’s a hard motherfucking fact of life, but that’s a fact of life your ass is going to have to get realistic about. You see this business is filled to the brim with unrealistic motherfuckers. Motherfuckers who thought their ass aged like wine. If you mean it turns to vinegar, it does. If you mean it gets better with age, it don’t.
[we only see back of Marsellus bald head only whilst he’s talking to Butch]
Marsellus: Night of the fight, you may feel a slight sting, that’s pride fucking with you. Fuck pride! Pride only hurts, it never helps. You fight through that shit. Cause a year from now, when you’re kicking it in the Caribbean you’re going to say to yourself, “Marsellus Wallace was right.”
Marsellus: In the fifth, your ass goes down. Say it.
Butch: In the fifth, my ass goes down.
Paul: So, I hear you’re taking Mia out tomorrow.
Vincent: At Marsellus’s request.
Paul: Have you met Mia yet?
Vincent: Not yet.
[Jules and Paul laugh]
Vincent: What’s so fucking funny?
Paul: Not a Goddamn thing.
Jules: I got to piss.
Vincent: Look, I’m not a fucking idiot alright. It’s the Big Man’s wife. I’m going to sit across from her, chew my food with my mouth closed, laugh at her fucking jokes, and that’s it.
Paul: Hey, my name’s Paul and this shit’s between y’all.
Trudi: Well, you see 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 my piercings, eighteen places on my body, every one of them done with a needle. Five in each ear, one through the nipple on my left breast, two in my right nostril, one in my left eyebrow, one in my belly, one in my lip, one in my clit, and I wear a stud in my tongue.
Vincent: Excuse me, I was just curious, but why do you wear a stud in your tongue?
Jody: It’s a sex thing. It helps fellatio.
Lance: Vincenzo. Step into my office?
Lance: Hey, what do you think about Trudi? She ain’t got a boyfriend. You want to hang out, get high?
Vincent: Which one’s Trudi? The one with all the shit in her face?
Lance: No, that’s Jody. That’s my wife.
Lance: Still got your Malibu?
Vincent: Aw, man. You know what some fucker did the other day?
Vincent: Fucking keyed it.
Lance: Oh, man, that’s fucked up.
Vincent: Tell me about it. I had it in storage for three years, it was out five days and some dickless piece of shit fucked with it.
Lance: They should be fucking 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 asshole doing it. It’d been worth him doing it just so I could’ve caught him doing it.
Lance: What a fucker!
Vincent: What’s more chicken shit than fucking with a man’s automobile? I mean, don’t fuck with another man’s vehicle.
Lance: You don’t do it.
Vincent: It’s just against the rules.
Vincent: Thank you. Mind if I shoot it up here?
Lance: Hey, mi casa su casa.
Vincent: Muchas gracias.
[speaking to the microphone to Vincent]
Mia: Go make yourself a drink and I’ll be down in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.
[parks his car]
Vincent: What the fuck is this place?
Mia: This is “Jack Rabbit Slim’s”. An Elvis man should love it.
Vincent: Come on Mia, let’s go and get a steak.
Mia: You can get steak here daddy-o. Don’t be a…
[Mia draws a square with her hands. Dotted lines appear on the screen, forming a square. The lines disappear.]
Vincent: Oh after you, Kitty Kat.
[after finding their seats in the restaurant “Jack Rabbit Slims”]
Mia: What do you think?
Vincent: I think it’s like a wax museum with a pulse.
Vincent: You think I could have a sip of that?
Mia: Be my guest.
[slides her milkshake towards him]
Vincent: I got to know what a five dollar shake tastes like.
[he takes out her straw]
Mia: You can use my straw, I don’t have kooties.
Vincent: Yeah, but maybe I do.
Mia: Kooties I can handle.
[he takes a sip]
Vincent: Goddamn, that’s a pretty fucking good milkshake!
Mia: Told you.
Vincent: I don’t know if it’s worth five dollars, but it’s pretty fucking good!
Mia: Don’t you hate that?
Vincent: Hate 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 really special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably share silence.
[after snorting coke in the restaurant bathroom]
Mia: I said Goddamn! Goddamn.
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.
Vincent: That is Marilyn Monroe that is Mamie Van Doren, I don’t see Jayne Mansfield, she must have the night off or something.
Mia: Only thing Antwan ever touched of mine was my hand, when he shook it, at my wedding.
Mia: Truth is, nobody knows why Marsellus threw Tony out of that window, except Marsellus and Tony. When you little scamps get together, you’re worse than a sewing circle.
Mia: I do believe Marsellus Wallace, my husband, your boss, told you to take me out and do whatever I wanted. Now I want to dance, I want to win. I want that trophy, so dance good.
[back at Marsellus Wallace’s house]
Vincent: I’m going to take a piss.
Mia: That’s a little bit more information than I needed, but go right ahead.
[talking to himself in the bathroom mirror]
Vincent: So you’re going to go out there, say “Goodnight, I’ve had a very lovely evening,” walk out the door, get in the car, go home and jerk off. And that’s all you’re going to do.
[on Lance’s front lawn where Vincent has crashed his car into Lance’s house]
Lance: You are not bringing this fucked-up bitch into my house.
Vincent: This fucked-up bitch is Marsellus Wallace’s wife. Do you know who Marsellus Wallace is? Do you? If she croaks on me, I’m a fucking grease spot.
[Vincent and Lance arguing about who should give Mia the adrenalin shot]
Lance: Look, you brought her here, and that means that you’re giving her the shot. The day that I bring an OD-ing bitch over to your house, then I’ll give her the shot. Give her the shot.
Lance: Okay. You’re giving her an injection of adrenaline straight to her heart. But she’s got, uh, breastplate…
[he taps Mia’s chest]
Lance: …so you got to pierce through that. So what you got to to do is, you got to bring the needle down in a stabbing motion.
[Lance demonstrates a stabbing motion]
Vincent: I-I got to stab her three times?
Lance: No, you don’t got to fucking stab her three times! You got to stab her once, but it’s got to be hard enough to get through her breastplate into her heart, alright. And then once you do that, you press down on the plunger.
Vincent: Okay. Then what happens?
Lance: I’m kind of curious about that myself.
[after Vincent has given Mia the adrenaline shot she bolts up in a sitting position, screams with the needle stuck in her chest and then calms down]
Lance: If you’re alright, say something.
Jody: That was fucking trippy!
[after dropping Mia off at her home]
Vincent: Now if you excuse me I’m going to go home and have a heart attack.
Mia: Vincent, do you want to hear my Fox Force Five joke?
Vincent: Sure, except I think I’m still a little too petrified to laugh.
Mia: No, you won’t laugh, cause it’s not funny. But if you still want to hear it, I’ll tell it.
Vincent: I can’t wait.
Mia: OK. Three tomatoes are walking down the street; Poppa tomato, Momma tomato, and Baby tomato. Baby tomato starts lagging behind and Poppa tomato gets really angry, goes back and squishes him and says, catch up, catch up.
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 going to 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. 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 want to 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 looking 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 fucking 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 going to 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 fucking far from okay.
Butch: What now?
Marsellus: What now? Let me tell you what now. I’ma call a coupla hard, pipe-hitting niggers, who’ll go to work on the homes here with a pair of pliers and a blow torch.
Marsellus: You hear me talking, 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 out of 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. got to 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 want to continue this theological discussion in the car, or in the jail house with the cops?
Jules: We should be fucking 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 got to 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 got to 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!
Jimmie: Now don’t you fucking realize man that if Bonnie comes home and finds a dead body in her house, I’m going to get divorced, alright. No marriage counselor, no trial separation. I’m going to get fucking divorced. Okay? And I don’t want to get fucking divorced. Now then, you know, I mean, I want to help you but I don’t want to lose my wife doing it, alright?
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 want to 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 fucking race car, right, and you got me the red. And I’m just saying, I’m just saying that it’s fucking dangerous to have a race car in the fucking 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-laying 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 doing in the back? You’re the motherfucker who should be on brain duty! We’re fucking switching! I’m washing the windows, and you’re picking 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 morning 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 nothing stupid, like leaving this shit out in front for Aldo the garbage man to pick up. You know what I’m saying.
The Wolf: Don’t worry we’re taking 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 going 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 fucking thing until I do something.
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 jingling and jangling?
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 going to be disposing of two bodies.
The Wolf: I’m taking m’lady out for breakfast. Maybe I can drop you two off. Where do you live?
The Wolf: It’s your future, I see a cab ride. Move out of the sticks, fellas.
Jules: Mr. Wolf, I just want to tell you it was a real pleasure watching 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 something.
Vincent: Yeah man, he’s about as European as fucking English Bob.
Jules: Man, I just been sitting here thinking.
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 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 fucking 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 fucking wit’ me! I don’t know why. But I can’t go back to sleep.
Vincent: What you going to 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 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 going to take a shit.
[he gets up to leave]
Vincent: Let me ask you something. When did you decide to make this decision? When you were sitting there eating that muffin?
Jules: Well yeah, I was sitting here eating my muffin and drinking my coffee and replaying 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 going 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 fucking 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 going to do anything stupid, are we?
Yolanda: You don’t hurt him.
Jules: Nobody’s going to hurt anybody. We’re all going to 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 going to be. We’re going to be cool. Now, Ringo, I’m going to 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 going to 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 talking. 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 got to go pee! I want to 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 fucking 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 going to do a Goddamn motherfucking thing. Vince, shut the fuck up!
Yolanda: Shut up!
Jules: Come on, Yolanda, stay with me baby. Now I ain’t giving it to him, Vincent. I’m buying something for my money. want to know what I’m buying, Ringo?
Jules: Your life. I’m giving 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 saying 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 morning that made me think twice. See, now I’m thinking, 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 trying, Ringo. I’m trying 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: 88
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