Forget it. It's too risky. I'm through doing that shit.
You always say that, the same thing every time.
"I'm through. Never again. Too dangerous."
I know. I'm always right too.
But you forget in a day or two.
The days of forgettin' are over. The days of remembering have begun.
Know when you go on what you sound like?
I sound like a sensible fuckin' man.
You sound like a duck. Quack, quack...
You'll never hear it again. As I'm never gonna do it again,
you'll never hear me quack about it.
- After tonight? - Correct. I got all tonight to quack.
- Can I get anyone more coffee? - Oh, yes.
- Thank you. - Welcome.
I mean, the way it is now,
you take the same risks as when you rob a bank.
More of a risk. Banks are easier.
Federal banks ain't supposed to stop you during a robbery.
They're insured. Why should they care?
I don't even need a gun in a federal bank.
One bloke, he walks into a bank with a portable phone.
He gives the phone to the teller. The bloke on the other end says,
"We got this guy's girl. You don't give him money, we'll kill her."
- Did it work? - Fuckin' right.
Knucklehead walks into a bank with a telephone,
not a pistol, not a shotgun, but a fuckin' phone.
Cleans the place out. They don't lift a finger.
- Did they hurt the girl? - I don't know.
There probably never was a little girl.
The point of the story isn't the girl. They robbed a bank with a telephone.
- You wanna rob banks? - I'm not saying that.
I'm illustrating it'd be easier than what we're doin'.
- No more liquor stores? - What've we been talkin' about?
It ain't the giggle it used to be.
Too many foreigners. Vietnamese, Koreans.
They don't speak English. Tell them "Empty the register,"
they don't know what you mean.
One of these gooks will make us kill him.
- I'm not gonna kill anybody. - I don't want to kill anybody either.
But they'll put us in a situation where it's us or them.
If it's not gooks, it's fuckin' Jews
who've owned the store for 15 generations.
Grandpa Irving sitting behind the counter with a Magnum in his hand.
Walk in there with a phone. See how far that gets you.
- Fuck it. Forget it. We're out of it. - Yeah, well, what then? Day jobs?
- Not in this life. - What then?
Garçon, coffee!
This place.
"Garçon" means boy.
This place? A coffee shop?
What's wrong with that?
Nobody ever robs restaurants. Why not?
Bars, liquor stores, gas stations.
Get your head blown off stickin' up one of them.
Restaurants, on the other hand, you catch with their pants down.
They're not expectin' to get robbed, not as expectin', anyway.
I bet you could cut down on the hero factor in a place like this.
Correct. Same as banks, these places are insured.
The manager, he don't give a fuck.
He's tryin' to get you out before you plug the diners.
Waitresses, forget it. No way they're takin' a bullet for the register.
Busboys. Some wetback gettin' paid $1 .50 an hour
give a fuck you're stealin' from the owner?
Customers don't know what's goin' on.
One minute havin' a Denver omelette,
next, someone's stickin' a gun in their face.
See, I got the idea the last liquor store we stuck up, remember?
- All the customers kept coming in. - Yeah.
And you got the idea of takin' their wallets.
- That was a good idea. - Thank you.
Made more from wallets than the register.
We did.
- A lot of people come into restaurants. - A lot of wallets.
- Pretty smart, huh? - Pretty smart.
I'm ready. Let's do it right now, right here.
- Come on. - All right.
Same as last time, remember? You're crowd control. I'll handle employees.
- I love you, Pumpkin. - I love you, Honey Bunny.
Everybody be cool. This is a robbery.
Any of you fucking pricks move,
and I'll execute every motherfucking last one of you!
OK, so tell me again about the hash bars.
- What you wanna know? - Hash is legal there?
It ain't 100 percent legal.
You just can't walk into a restaurant, roll a joint and puff away.
They want you to smoke at home or certain designated places.
- And those are hash bars? - It breaks down like this.
It's legal to buy it and own it.
If you're the proprietor of the hash bar, it's legal to sell it.
It's illegal to carry it, but that doesn't matter,
cos get a load of this, if you get stopped by a cop in Amsterdam,
it's illegal for them to search you.
That's a right the cops in Amsterdam don't have.
I'm goin'. That's all there is to it. I'm fuckin' goin'.
I know, baby. You'd dig it the most.
Know the funniest thing about Europe?
- What? - It's the little differences.
They got the same shit there that they got here.
- There, it's a little different. - Example.
You can walk into a movie theatre in Amsterdam and buy a beer.
And I don't mean no paper cup, I'm talkin' about a glass of beer.
And in Paris, you can buy a beer in McDonald's.
And you know what they call a quarter pounder with cheese in Paris?
- A quarter pounder with cheese? - No.
It's metric. They wouldn't know a quarter pounder.
- Then what do they call it? - They call it a royale with cheese.
- Royale with cheese. - That's right.
- What do they call a Big Mac? - A Big Mac's a Big Mac,
- but they call it Le Big Mac. - Le Big Mac.
What do they call a Whopper?
I don't know. I didn't go into Burger King.
Know what they put on fries in Holland instead of ketchup?
- What? God damn! - Mayonnaise.
I seen 'em do it, man. They fuckin' drown 'em in that shit.
We should have shotguns for this kind of deal.
- How many up there? - Three or four.
- That's countin' our guy? - Not sure.
So there could be up to five guys up there?
It's possible.
We should have fuckin' shotguns.
- What's her name? - Mia.
Mia. How did Marsellus and her meet?
I don't know. However people meet people. She used to be an actress.
Oh, really? She do anything I'd have seen?
No, her biggest deal was she starred in a pilot.
Pilot? What's a pilot?
- Well, you know the shows on TV? - I don't watch TV.
But you are aware that there's an invention called television,
and on this invention they show shows?
Yeah.
Well, the way they pick TV shows is they make one show called a pilot.
They show that to the people who pick shows.
On the strength of that, they decide if they want to make more.
Some get chosen and become television programmess. Some become nothin'.
She starred in one that became nothin'.
You remember Antwan Rockamora?
Half-black, half-Samoan? Used to call him "Tony Rocky Horror"?
Yeah, maybe. Fat?
I wouldn't call the brother fat.
He got a weight problem. What's he gonna do? He's Samoan.
I think I know who you mean. What about him?
Well, Marsellus fucked him up good.
Word 'round the campfire is it was on account of Marsellus Wallace's wife.
- So, what'd he do? Fuck her? - No, no, no. Nothin' that bad.
- Well, then what then? - Gave her a foot massage.
Foot massage? That's it?
Then what'd Marsellus do?
Sent a couple of cats over to his place. They took him out on his patio,
threw his ass over the balcony. Nigga fell four stories.
They had a garden down at the bottom enclosed in glass like a greenhouse.
Nigga fell through that.
Since then he kinda developed a speech impediment.
That's a damn shame.
But I have to say, you play with matches, you get burned.
What do you mean?
You don't give Marsellus Wallace's new bride a foot massage.
You don't think he overreacted?
Antwan probably didn't expect Marsellus to react the way he did,
- but he had to expect a reaction. - It was a foot massage.
That's nothin'. I give my mother a foot massage.
It's layin' your hands in a familiar way on Marsellus's new wife.
Is it as bad as eatin' her pussy out? No. But it's the same fuckin' ballpark.
Stop right there.
Eatin' the bitch out and givin' the bitch a massage ain't the same thing.
- It's the same ballpark. - Ain't no fuckin' ballpark neither.
Maybe your method of massage differs from mine.
Touchin' his wife's feet and sticking your tongue
in the holiest of holies ain't the same ballpark.
It ain't the same league, ain't the same sport.
Foot massages don't mean shit.
Have you ever given a foot massage?
Don't tell me about foot massages. I'm the foot-fuckin' master.
- You've given a lot? - Yeah.
Got my technique down. I don't be ticklin' or nothin'.
Would you give a guy a foot massage?
Fuck you.
- You give 'em a lot? - Fuck you.
I'm kinda tired. I could use a foot massage.
Yo, man. You best back off. I'm gettin' a little pissed here.
- This is the door. - Yeah, it is.
What time you got?
7:22 in the a.m.
No, it ain't quite time yet. Come on, let's hang back.
Cos I wouldn't give no man a foot massage don't make it right
for Marsellus to throw Antwan into a glass house,
fuckin' up the way the nigga talks. That ain't right.
Motherfucker do that to me better paralyse my ass,
- cos I'd kill him. - I ain't sayin' it's right.
You sayin' a foot massage means nothin', I'm sayin' it does.
I've given a million ladies a million foot massages, they all meant somethin'.
We act like they don't, but they do. That's what's so cool about 'em.
There's a sensuous thing goin' on where you don't talk about it,
but you know it, she knows it, fuckin' Marsellus knew it.
And Antwan should've fuckin' better known better.
That's his fuckin' wife, man.
This ain't a man with a sense of humour about this shit. Know what I'm sayin'?
It's an interesting point.
Come on. Let's get into character.
- What's her name again? - Mia.
- Why so interested in Big Man's wife?
He's goin' out of town to Florida, and he asked me
if I'd take care of her while he's gone.
- Take care of her? - No, man.
Just take her out. Show her a good time, make sure she don't get lonely.
You're gonna be takin' Mia Wallace out on a date?
It is not a date. You know, it's just...
It's like taking your buddy's wife to a movie or somethin'.
It's just good company, that's all.
It's not a date. It's definitely not a date.
Hey, kids.
How you boys doin'?
Hey, keep chillin'.
You know who we are?
We're associates of your business partner, Marsellus Wallace.
You do remember your business partner, don't you?
Let me take a wild guess here.
- You're Brett, right? - Yeah.
I thought so.
You remember your business partner, Marsellus Wallace, don't you, Brett?
- Yeah, I remember him. - Good.
Me and Vincent caught you boys at breakfast.
Sorry about that. Whatcha havin'?
- Hamburgers. - Hamburgers!
The cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast.
- What kind of hamburgers? - Cheeseburgers.
No, no, no. Where'd you get 'em?
McDonald's, Wendy's, Jack In The Box? Where?
- Big Kahuna Burger. - Big Kahuna Burger!
That's that Hawaiian burger joint. I hear they got some tasty burgers.
- I ain't never had one. How are they? - They're good.
You mind if I try one of yours?
- This is yours here, right? - Yeah.
This is a tasty burger.
Vincent, have you ever had a Big Kahuna Burger?
Want a bite? They're real tasty.
Ain't hungry.
If you like burgers, try 'em sometime.
Me? I can't usually get 'em cos my girlfriend's a vegetarian,
which pretty much makes me a vegetarian,
but I do love the taste of a good burger.
You know what they call a quarter pounder with cheese in France?
- No. - Tell him, Vincent.
- Royale with cheese. - Royale with cheese.
Know why they call it that?
Because of the metric system?
Check out the big brain on Brett!
You're a smart motherfucker. That's right, the metric system.
- What's in this? - Sprite.
Sprite. Good.
You mind if I have some of your tasty beverage to wash this down?
Go right ahead.
That hit the spot.
You, Flock of Seagulls, you know why we're here?
Why don't you tell Vince here where you got the shit hid?
It's over there...
I don't remember askin' you a goddamn thing!
- You were sayin'? - It's in the cupboard.
No. The one by your knees.
We happy?
Vincent!
- We happy? - Yeah, we happy.
Look, I'm sorry. I didn't get your name.
I got yours. Vincent, right? But I never got your...
My name's Pitt, and your ass ain't talkin' your way outta this shit.
No, no, no.
I just want you to know how...
I just want you to know how sorry we are,
that things got so fucked up with us and Mr Wallace.
It... We got into this thing with the best intentions, really. I never...
Oh, I'm sorry. Did I break your concentration?
I didn't mean to do that. Please, continue.
You were saying something about "best intentions"?
What's the matter? Oh, you were finished!
Oh, well, allow me to retort.
What does Marsellus Wallace look like?
What?
- What country you from? - What?
"What" ain't no country I heard of! They speak English in "What"?
- What? - English!
- Do you speak it? - Yes!
- You know what I'm sayin'. - Yes.
Describe what Marsellus Wallace looks like!
- What? I... - Say "what" again. Say "what" again!
I double-dare you, motherfucker.
Say "what" one more goddamn time.
- He's black. - Go on!
- He's bald! - Does he look like a bitch?
What?
Does he look like a bitch?
No!
Why try to fuck him like a bitch?
- I didn't. - You did!
- Yes, you did. You tried to fuck him. - No.
Marsellus Wallace don't like to be fucked
by anybody except Mrs Wallace.
- Do you read the Bible, Brett? - Yes.
Well, there's this passage I got memorized, sort of fits this occasion.
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 thee."
I think you're gonna find,
when all this shit is over and done,
I think you're gonna find yourself one smilin' 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 motherfuckin' fact of life.
But that's a fact of life your ass is gonna have to get realistic about.
See, this business is filled to the brim with unrealistic motherfuckers,
motherfuckers who thought their ass would age like wine.
If you mean it turns to vinegar, it does.
If you mean it gets better with age, it don't.
Besides, Butch,
how many fights you think you got in you, anyway?
Two?
Boxers don't have an old-timer's day.
You came close, but you never made it.
And if you were gonna make it, you would've made it before now.
You my nigga?
It certainly appears so.
The night of the fight, you may feel a slight sting.
That's pride fuckin' with you.
Fuck pride!
Pride only hurts.
It never helps.
You fight through that shit.
Cos a year from now,
when you're kickin' it in the Caribbean,
you gonna say to yourself, "Marsellus Wallace was right."
I got no problem with that, Mr Wallace.
In the fifth, your ass goes down.
Say it.
In the fifth, my ass goes down.
Yo, Vincent Vega! Our man in Amsterdam.
Jules Winnfield. Our man in Inglewood. Get your asses on in here.
Goddamn! What's up with them clothes?
You don't want to know.
Where's the Big Man?
Big Man's over there takin' care of some business.
Hang back for a second or two.
When you see the white boy leave, just go on over.
How you been?
- Pretty good. How 'bout yourself? - All right.
I hear you're takin' Mia out tomorrow.
At Marsellus's request.
- Have you met Mia? - Not yet.
- What's so fuckin' funny? - Not a goddamn thing.
I got to piss.
Look, I'm not a fuckin' idiot, all right. It's the Big Man's wife.
I'll sit across from her, chew my food with my mouth closed,
laugh at her jokes, that's it.
Hey, my name's Paul. This shit's between y'all.
Then what'd you fuckin' ask me about it for? Asshole.
- Gimme a pack of Red Apples. - Filters?
Nah.
- You lookin' at somethin', friend? - You ain't my friend, palooka.
- What was that? - You heard me just fine, punchy.
Vincent Vega's in the house?
My nigga. Get your ass over here.
- What's up? - Man, I'm really sorry.
You shouldn't worry about it.
Pack of Red Apples. $1.40.
And some matches.
It's as if it turns every part of your body into the tip of a penis.
I'll lend it to you. It's a great book on piercing.
See how they use a gun to pierce your ears?
Do they use it to pierce your nipples?
Forget that gun. That gun goes against the entire idea behind piercing.
All my piercing, 18 places on my body, every one of them done with a needle.
Five in each ear, one through the nipple of 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.
Excuse me. I was just curious, but
why would you wear a stud in your tongue?
Sex thing. Helps fellatio.
Vincenzo. Step into my office.
This is Panda from Mexico. Very good stuff.
Now that's Bava, different but equally good.
And that is Choco from the Harz Mountains of Germany.
Now, the first two are the same. 300 a gram. Those are friend prices.
But this one is a little more expensive. This is 500 a gram.
But, when you shoot it, you will know where that extra money went.
Now, there's nothing wrong with these two. This is real, real good shit.
But this one is a fuckin' madman.
Remember, I just got back from Amsterdam.
Am I a nigger? Are we in Inglewood? No. You are in my home.
White people who know the difference between good and bad shit,
this is where they come.
My shit, I'll take the Pepsi Challenge with that Amsterdam shit
- any old day of the fuckin' week. - That's a bold statement.
This ain't Amsterdam, Vince. This is a seller's market.
Coke is fuckin' dead as dead.
Heroin, it's comin' back in a big fuckin' way.
All right. Gimme three grams of the madman.
OK.
If it's as good as you say, I'll buy another thousand.
I just hope that I still have some left for ya.
But I'm givin' you some outta my own private stash.
That is what a nice guy I am.
And I am out of balloons. Is a baggie all right?
- Yeah, that's cool. - All right. Just get one for you.
Honey, will you get me some baggies and Twistix from the kitchen?
OK.
What do you think about Trudi? She ain't got a boyfriend.
You want to hang out, get high?
Which one's Trudi? The one with all the shit in her face?
No, that's Jody. That's my wife.
- I'm sorry, man. - Thank you.
That's funny. No, I can't. I gotta be someplace.
- All right. No problemo. - Take a rain check.
Thank you, Jody.
Still got your Malibu?
Oh, man. You know what some fucker did the other day?
- What? - Fucking keyed it.
- Oh, man! That's fucked up. - 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.
They should be killed. No trial, no jury, straight to execution.
I wish I could've caught him doin' it.
I'd have given anything to catch that asshole doin' it.
It'd have been worth it just so I could've caught him.
- What a fucker! - What's more chickenshit
than fuckin' with a man's automobile? Don't fuck with a man's vehicle.
- You don't do it. - It's against the rules.
- Thank you. - Thank you.
Mind if I shoot up here?
Hi, Vincent. I'm getting dressed. The door's open.
Come inside and make yourself a drink. Mia.
Hello?
Vincent.
Vincent!
I'm on the intercom.
Where is the intercom?
It's on the wall by the two African fellows.
To your right.
Warm.
Warmer.
Disco!
Hello?
Push the button if you want to talk.
Hello.
Make yourself a drink, and I'll be down in two shakes of a lamb's tail.
The bar is by the fireplace.
OK.
Let's go.
- What the fuck is this place? - This is Jackrabbit Slim's.
An Elvis man should love it.
- Come on, Mia. Let's go get a steak. - You can get a steak here, daddy-o.
Don't be a...
Oh, after you, kitty cat.
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Now, how may I help you?
- There's a reservation under Wallace. - Wallace?
- We reserved a car. - Oh, a car.
Sit them over there in the Chrysler.
- Can we get some coffee? Decaf. - Just a minute.
Ricky, Ricky, Ricky!
Let's hear it for Ricky Nelson!
- Fantastic job. - Thank you.
Vincent!
Just to let you all know, Ricky will be back in the second half of our show.
So we hope you enjoy your meals here at Jackrabbit Slim's.
Thank you.
Call for
Phillip Morris!
What do you think?
I think it's like a wax museum with a pulse.
Hi, I'm Buddy. What can I get ya?
Let's see. Steak, steak.
Oh, yeah. The Douglas Sirk steak.
- I'll have that. - How do you want that cooked?
- Burnt to a crisp or bloody as hell? - Bloody as hell.
And, oh, yeah, look at this. Vanilla Coke.
What about you, Peggy Sue?
I'll have the...
...Durward Kirby burger, bloody,
and a five-dollar shake.
Want that Martin and Lewis or Amos'n Andy?
Martin and Lewis.
Did you just order a five-dollar shake?
That's a shake. That's milk and ice cream.
- Last I heard. - That's $5.
- You don't put bourbon in or nothin'? - No.
- Just checkin'. - I'll be right back with your drinks.
Could you roll me one of those, cowboy?
- You can have this one, cowgirl. - Thanks.
Think nothin' of it.
So Marsellus said you just got back from Amsterdam.
- Sure did. - How long were you there?
Just over three years.
I go there about once a year to chill out for a month.
No kidding. I didn't know that.
Why would you?
I heard you did a pilot.
- That was my 15 minutes. - What was it?
It was a show about a team of female secret agents called Fox Force Five.
- What? - 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, one, two, three, four, five of us.
There was a blond one, Sommerset O'Neal. She was the leader.
The Japanese fox was a kung fu master.
The black girl was a demolition expert.
French fox's specialty was sex.
- What was your specialty? - Knives.
The character I played, Raven McCoy,
her background was she grew up raised by circus performers.
According to the show,
she was the deadliest woman in the world with a knife.
And she knew a zillion old jokes.
Her grandfather, an old vaudevillian, taught her.
If we would've got picked up, they would've worked in a gimmick
where every show I would've told another joke.
Do you know any of them old jokes?
Well, I only got the chance to say one cos we only did one show.
- Tell me. - It's corny.
Don't be that way. Tell me.
No, you wouldn't like it, and I'd be embarrassed.
You'd be... You told like 50 million people, and you can't tell me?
- I promise I won't laugh. - That's what I'm afraid of, Vince.
That's not what I meant, and you know it.
Now I'm definitely not gonna tell. It's been built up too much.
What a gyp.
Martin and Lewis.
Vanilla Coke.
Yummy.
You think I could have a sip of that?
Be my guest.
I gotta know what a five-dollar shake tastes like.
Use my straw. I don't have cooties.
- Yeah, but maybe I do. - Cooties I can handle.
All right.
Goddamn, it's a fuckin' good milk shake.
Told ya.
Don't know if it's worth $5, but it's fuckin' good.
- Don't you hate that? - Hate what?
Uncomfortable silences.
Why do we feel it's necessary to yak about bullshit
in order to be comfortable?
I don't know. That's a good question.
That's when you know you found somebody really special.
When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably share silence.
We're not there yet, but don't feel bad,
we just met each other.
I'll tell you what.
I'm gonna go to the bathroom and powder my nose.
You sit here and think of something to say.
I'll do that.
I said God damn! God damn! God damn.
- Need this colour? - I need some hair spray.
Don't you love it when you come back from the bathroom
to find your food waiting for you?
We're lucky we got anything at all.
I don't think Buddy Holly is much of a waiter.
We should've sat at Marilyn Monroe's.
Like some coffee?
- There's two Monroes. - There's not.
That is Marilyn Monroe.
- That is Mamie Van Doren. - Have you decided yet?
I don't see Jayne Mansfield. She must have the night off or somethin'.
- Pretty smart. - Yeah, I got my moments.
- So did you think of something to say? - Actually, I did.
However...
...you seem like a really nice person, and I don't want to offend you.
Doesn't sound like the usual mindless, boring, gettin'-to-know-you chitchat.
Sounds like you actually have something to say.
Well, I do.
But you have to promise not to be offended.
No.
You can't promise something like that. I have no idea what you're gonna ask.
You ask what you're gonna ask me,
and my natural response could be to get offended.
Through no fault, I'd have broken my promise.
- Let's just forget it. - That's an impossibility.
Trying to forget this would be an exercise in futility.
- Is that a fact? - And besides,
isn't it more exciting when you don't have permission?
All right. Well, here goes.
What did you think about what happened to Antwan?
- Who's Antwan? - Tony Rocky Horror. You know him.
He fell out of a window.
Well, that is one way to say it.
Another way to say it would be that he was thrown.
Another way would be was he was thrown out by Marsellus.
And yet even another way is to say he was thrown out of a window
- by Marsellus because of you. - Is that a fact?
No, it's not a fact. It's just what I heard. That's just what I heard.
- Who told you? - They.
They talk a lot, don't they?
They certainly do. They certainly do.
Don't be shy. What else did they say?
Well, I'm not shy.
Did it involve the F word?
No. They just said that Antwan had given you a foot massage.
- And? - And nothin'.
That's it.
You heard Marsellus threw Tony Rocky Horror out of a fourth-storey window
for givin' me a foot massage?
And you believe that?
Well, I mean, at the time I was told, it sounded reasonable.
Marsellus throwing Tony out of a fourth-storey window
for massaging my feet seemed reasonable?
It seemed excessive, but that doesn't mean it didn't happen.
I understand that Marsellus is very, very protective of you.
A husband being protective of his wife is one thing.
A husband almost killing a man for touching his wife's feet
- is something else. - But did it happen?
Only thing Antwan ever touched of mine was my hand when he shook it
at my wedding.
Really?
Truth is, nobody knows why Marsellus threw Tony
out of that fourth-storey window except Marsellus and Tony.
When you scamps get together, you're worse than a sewing circle.
Ladies and gentlemen, now the moment you've all been waiting for.
It's the world-famous Jackrabbit Slim's twist contest!
Now, this is where one lucky couple
will win this handsome trophy that Marilyn here is holding.
- That's mine, man! - Who will be our first contestants?
Right here!
- Wanna dance? - No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no. I do believe Marsellus, my husband, your boss,
told you to take me out and do whatever I wanted.
And now I wanna dance, I wanna win, I want that trophy.
- All right. - So dance good.
- You asked for it. - Let's hear it for our contestants!
Let's meet our first contestants here this evening.
- Young lady, what is your name? - Mrs Mia Wallace.
And how 'bout your fella here?
Vincent Vega.
Let's see what you can do. Take it away!
- Go for it! - Come on!
Is that what you call an uncomfortable silence?
I don't know what you call that.
Drinks! Music!
I'm gonna take a piss.
That's a little bit more information than I needed, Vince,
but go right ahead.
One drink, and that's it.
Don't be rude. Drink your drink, but do it quickly.
Say good night and go home.
You see, this is a moral test of one's self,
whether or not you can maintain loyalty.
Because being loyal is very important.
Hello.
You're gonna go out there and say,
"Good night. I've had a very lovely evening."
Walk out the door, get in the car,
go home, jerk off and that's all you gonna do.
All right, Mia.
So, listen, I gotta go. All right?
Oh, Jesus fucking Christ!
You... Oh, Jesus Christ!
Oh, fuck me! Fuck me!
Come on, girl. We're gettin' outta here. We gotta walk now.
Don't fuckin' die on me, Mia!
Answer.
Tell me, have you got the ring?
- Why, certainly. - Join hands, you two lovebirds.
- Would you please? Please? Hurry up. - Yes, yes, yes.
Hold hands, you lovebirds.
Fuck you, Lance! Answer!
- Now what do you say? - I give up. I'll marry ya.
Lance, the goddamn phone's ringing.
I can hear it.
I thought you told those assholes never to call this late.
Yeah, I told 'em,
and that is exactly what I'm going to tell this fucking asshole now.
I'll teach you a thing or two. You won't ...
- Don't you dare strike me! - Hello?
Lance, Vincent.
I'm in big trouble. I'm comin' to your house.
Hold your horses, man. What's the problem?
I got this chick. She's fuckin' ODin'.
Don't bring her here. I'm not fuckin' jokin' with you.
Do not bring some pooh-bah to my house!
- No choice. - She's ODin'?
She's fuckin' dying on me, man!
Then you bite the fuckin' bullet,
take her to a hospital and call a lawyer.
- Negative. - This is not my fuckin' problem, man.
You fucked her up! You fuckin' deal with this!
Are you talkin' to me on a cellular phone?
I don't know you. Don't come here.
I'm hangin' up the phone. Prank caller!
What the hell was that?
You lost your mind? You were talkin' about drug shit on the phone.
- Help. - You crashed your car into my house!
- Grab her feet. - Hey! Are you deaf?
You are not bringin' this fucked-up bitch in here.
This fucked-up bitch is Marsellus Wallace's wife.
- Know Marsellus Wallace? - Yeah.
If she croaks on me, I'm a fucking grease spot.
Now, look, I am... I will be forced to tell him
that you did not help and you let her die on your fuckin' lawn.
Now, come on, help me. Help me. Pick her up.
Shit!
Lance!
Shit!
It's 1:30 in the goddamn morning. What the fuck's going on out here?
Who's she?
Go to the fridge and get the adrenalin shot.
- What's wrong with her? - She's ODin!
- Get her outta here. - Get the shot!
- Fuck you! Fuck you too. - What a fuckin' bitch!
Keep talkin' to her.
She's gettin' the shot. I'll get my medical book.
What you need a medical book for?
- I never gave a shot. - You've never given a shot?
I don't joy-pop with bubble-gummers.
- My friends handle their highs. - Get the shot!
- I am. - I ain't stoppin' you.
- Start talkin' to her. - Get the shot!
All right!
- Hurry up. We're losin' her. - I'm Iookin' as fast as I can.
- What's he lookin' for? - I don't know. Some book.
- What are you lookin' for? - A black medical book.
It's like a textbook they give to nurses.
- I never saw no medical books. - Trust me, I have one.
- Why didn't you keep it with the shot? - Stop bothering me!
While you're lookin', that girl's gonna die. You're never gonna find anything.
I'm going to fuckin' kill you if you don't shut up!
Get in here!
- Right? - Get the fuck outta my way.
Pig.
Give her the shot. Come on!
OK. Look, while I'm doin' this, you take off her shirt and find her heart.
- Got to be exact? - Yeah.
A shot in the heart's gotta be exact!
I don't know where her heart is. I think it's here.
- That's it. - This it?
What I need is a big, fat Magic Marker.
- You got it? - What?
A Magic Marker!
A felt pen! A fuckin' black Magic Marker!
- All right. - Come on, man, hurry up.
Fuck. OK. I think it's ready.
- All right, put the... - Hurry up, man!
- I'll tell you what to do. - No, man.
- You give her the shot. - You give.
- I ain't. - I ain't.
- I never done this. - I ain't startin' now.
You brought her, you give her the shot.
The day I bring an dyin' bitch to yours, I give her the shot.
- Give it to me. - Here.
Give me that!
All right. Tell me what to do.
You're giving her an injection of adrenalin straight to her heart.
She's got a breastplate. Pierce through.
You gotta bring the needle down in a stabbing motion.
- Stab her three times? - Don't stab her three times.
Stab her once, hard enough to get through her breastplate into her heart.
Then you press down on the plunger.
- Then what happens? - I'm curious about that myself.
This ain't no joke! Am I gonna kill her?
No! She's supposed to come out of it.
Count to three. All right. Ready?
One.
Two.
Three!
If you're all right, say something.
Something.
That was fuckin' trippy.
Oh, man.
Mia.
What's...?
What's your thoughts on how to handle this?
What's yours?
Well, I'm of the opinion that if Marsellus lived his whole life,
he doesn't need to know nothin' about this incident.
If Marsellus knew about this incident, I'd be in as much trouble as you.
I seriously doubt that.
I can keep a secret if you can.
Shake on it?
Mum's the word? Cool.
If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go home and have a heart attack.
Vincent.
Do you want to hear my Fox Force Five joke?
Sure. Except I think I'm still a little too petrified to laugh.
No, you won't laugh cos it's not funny.
But if you still want to hear, I'll tell it.
- I can't wait. - OK.
Three tomatoes are walking down the street:
Papa Tomato, Mama Tomato and Baby Tomato.
Baby Tomato starts lagging behind, and Papa Tomato gets really angry,
goes back and squishes him and says, "Ketchup."
Ketchup.
See you around.
Oh, that Paddlefoot. He funny, silly dog.
He think totem pole alive.
He arctic tenderfoot.
- That totem pole been here forever. - Butch?
One more thing to put on the sled and we'll...
- Butch, stop watching TV a second. - Yeah?
- You've got a special visitor. - Stand up!
Do you remember when I told you your daddy died in a POW camp?
Well, this here is Captain Koons.
He was in the POW camp with Daddy.
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'd...
...not made it, Major Coolidge'd be talking right now to my son, Jim.
The way it turned out, I'm talking to you.
Butch, I got somethin' for ya.
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 wristwatches.
Up till then, people just carried pocket watches.
It was bought by a Private Doughboy Erine Coolidge
on the day he set sail for Paris.
This was your great-grandfather's war watch,
and he wore it every day he was in that war.
When he had done his duty, he went home to your great-grandmother,
took the watch off, put it in an old coffee can.
And in that can it stayed until your granddad, Dane Coolidge,
was called upon by his country to go 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 all 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 leaving 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'd 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.
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 that if the gooks ever saw the watch,
it'd be confiscated and taken away.
Way your dad looked at it, this watch was your birthright.
He'd be damned if any slope'd put their greasy, yellow hands
on his boy's birthright.
So he hid it in 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 give 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.
It's time, Butch.
In the lightweight division,
in the right corner, wearing the blue trunks,
weighing in at 21 0 pounds,
Floyd Ray Wilson!
It's official. Wilson is dead.
That had to be the bloodiest, and hands down,
most brutal fight this city has seen.
Coolidge was out faster than I've seen a boxer leave.
- Think he knew Wilson was dead? - My guess would be yes.
I could see from my position the frenzy in his eyes give way
to the realization of what he was doing. Any man would've left.
Is this tragedy gonna have an effect on boxing?
A tragedy like this can't help but shake boxing to its foundations.
It's of importance that during the weeks ahead,
the eyes of the WBA remain...
- Marsellus. - Why'd you let him do it?
How you doin'?
Great. I never thanked you for dinner.
- What you got? - He booked.
His trainer?
He says he don't know nothin'. I believe him.
I think Butch surprised his ass.
No, we don't wanna think. We wanna know.
Take him to the kennel, sic the dogs on his ass.
We'll find out for sure what he knows.
Butch's search, how do you want it done?
I'm prepared to scour the Earth for him.
If Butch goes to Indochina, I want a nigga hiding in a bowl of rice
ready to pop a cap in his ass.
I will take care of it.
Mister.
- Hey, mister. - What?
You were in that fight, the fight on the radio.
- You're the fighter? - Whatever gave you that idea?
No, come on. You're him.
I know you're him.
- Tell me you're him. - I'm him.
You killed the other boxing man.
- He's dead? - The radio said he was dead.
I'm sorry about that, FIoyd.
What does it feel like?
- What does what feel like? - Killing a man.
Beating another man to death with your bare hands.
- What are you, a weirdo? - No.
It is a subject I have much interest in.
You are the first person I have ever met who has killed somebody.
So?
What does it feel like to kill a man?
I'll tell you what.
Give me one of them cigarettes you got, I'll tell you all about it.
So, Esmarelda...
...Villalobos. Is that Mexican?
The name is Spanish, but I am Colombian.
- That's some handle you got there. - Thank you.
And what is your name?
- Butch. - Butch.
- What does it mean? - I'm American, honey.
Our names don't mean shit.
So, moving right along, Esmarelda,
what is it you want to know?
I want to know what it feels like to kill a man.
I couldn't tell ya.
I didn't know he was dead until you told me he was dead.
Now that I know he's dead, you want to know how I feel about it?
I don't feel the least bit bad about it.
What the fuck'd I tell ya, huh?
Soon as word got out the fix was in the odds went through the roof.
I know. Unbelievable.
Fuck him, Scotty. If he was a better boxer, he'd be alive.
If he never laced up his glove,
which he never shoulda done in the first place, he'd still be alive.
Yeah, well, who gives a fuck? It's over now.
Enough about the poor, unfortunate Mr Floyd.
Let's talk about the rich and prosperous Mr Butch.
How many bookies did you lay it around on?
All eight? How long to collect?
You'll have it all by tomorrow night?
No, I understand. A few stragglers aside.
Oh, fuck, Scotty, that is good news. That is great news, man.
Yeah. No, me and Fabienne are gonna leave in the morning.
It'll probably take us a couple days to get to Knoxville.
OK, my brother.
You're right. You're goddamn right.
All right, Scotty. Next time I see you, it'll be on Tennessee time.
Cool, brother.
$45.60.
And here's a little something for the effort.
If anybody asks you who your fare was tonight, what are you gonna say?
The truth. Three well-dressed, slightly toasted Mexicans.
Keep the light off.
Is that better, sugar pop?
Hard day at the office?
Pretty hard. Got in a fight.
Poor baby.
Can you make spoons?
I was thinkin' about takin' a shower.
- I'm stinkin' like a dog over here. - I like the way you stink.
Let me take this jacket off.
I was looking at myself in the mirror.
I wish I had a pot.
Looking at yourself in the mirror, and you wish you had some pot?
A pot! A pot belly.
Pot bellies are sexy.
Well, you should be happy, cos you have one.
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.
I didn't know there was a difference between a pot belly and a tummy.
The difference is huge.
Would you like it if I had a pot belly?
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 T-shirt two sizes too small to accentuate it.
You think men would find that attractive?
I don't give a damn what men find attractive.
It's unfortunate, what we find pleasing to the touch and pleasing to the eyes
is seldom the same.
If you had a pot belly, I would punch you in it.
- You'd punch me in my belly? - Right in the belly.
I'd smother you! I'd drop it right on your face till you couldn't breathe!
- You'd do that? - Yeah.
- Promise? - Yeah.
- Did you get everything? - Yes, I did.
Good job, sugar pop.
- Did everything go as planned? - You didn't listen to the...
- You didn't listen to the radio? - I never listen to your fights.
- Were you the winner? - I won, all right.
- Are you still retiring? - Sure am.
So it all worked out in the finish.
We're not at the finish yet, baby.
We're in a lot of danger, aren't we?
If they find us, they'll kill us, won't they?
But they won't find us, will they?
Do you still want me to go with you?
I don't want to be a burden or a nuisance. It's...
Say it.
Fabienne, I want you to be with me.
- Forever? - Forever and ever.
- Do you love me? - Very, very much.
- Butch? - Yes?
Will you give me oral pleasure?
Will you kiss it?
But you first.
- OK. - OK.
Butch.
I think I cracked a rib.
- Giving me oral pleasure? - No, retard, from the fight.
- Don't call me retard. - My name is Fabby.
- My name is Fabienne. - Stop it.
- My name is Fabby...
Shut up, fuckhead! I hate that Mongoloid voice.
OK. Sorry. I take it back.
Will you hand me a dry towel, Miss Beautiful Tulip?
Oh, I like that. I like being called a tulip.
Tulip is much better than Mongoloid.
I didn't call you a Mongoloid. I called you a retard, and I took it back.
- Butch? - Yes, lemon pie?
- Where are we going to go? - Well, I'm not sure yet.
Wherever you want.
We'll get a lot of money from this,
but it ain't gonna be the kind of money
that we can live like hogs in the fat house forever.
I was thinkin' maybe we could go down someplace in the South Pacific.
The kind of money we're gonna have will carry us a long way there.
- We could live in Bora-Bora? - You betcha.
And if after a while you didn't dig that,
we could go someplace else. Maybe Tahiti, Mexico.
But I do not speak Spanish.
Well, you do not speak Bora-Boran either.
Besides, Mexican's easy.
- What does that mean? - Where is the shoe store?
Spit, please.
Excellent pronunciation.
You'll be my little mamacita in no time.
- What time is it? - What time is it?
Time for bed.
Sweet dreams, jellybean.
Butch?
Never mind.
You startled me. Did you have a bad dream?
What is this you're watching?
A motorcycle movie. I'm not sure the name.
- Are you watching it? - In a way.
It's a little early in the morning for explosions and war.
- What was it about? - How should I know?
You were the one watching it.
No, what was your dream about?
I don't know. I don't remember.
It's really rare that I remember my dreams.
Well, let's look at the grumpy man in the morning.
Why don't you get up and we'll get some breakfast?
One more kiss and I'll get up.
- Satisfied? - Yep.
Get up, lazy bones!
God.
- What time is it? - Almost 9:00 in the morning.
- What time does our train arrive? - 11:00.
Know what I'm gonna have for breakfast?
What, lemon pie?
I'm gonna order a big plate
of blueberry pancakes with maple syrup,
eggs over easy and five sausages.
Anything to drink with that?
That looks nice.
To drink, a tall glass of orange juice
and a black cup of coffee.
After that, I'm going to have a slice of pie.
Pie for breakfast?
Any time of the day is a good time for pie.
Blueberry pie to go with the pancakes.
And on top, a thin slice of melted cheese.
Where's my watch?
It's there.
- No, it's not. - Have you looked?
Yes, I've fuckin' looked! What the fuck do you think I'm doin'?
- Are you sure you got it? - Yes. Bedside table drawer.
- On the little kangaroo? - Yes, on the little kangaroo.
Yeah, well, it's not here now.
Well, it should be.
It definitely should be, but it's not here now!
So where the fuck is it?
Fabienne, where's my father's fucking watch?
Do you know what he had to go through to get me that watch?
I don't have time to go into it, he went through a lot.
All this you could've set on fire,
but I specifically reminded you not to forget the fucking watch!
- Now think. Did you get it? - I believe so.
You believe so? What does that mean? You did or didn't get it!
Then I did.
- Are you sure? - No.
Fuck! Motherfucker!
Do you know how fucking stupid you fucking are? No!
It's not your fault.
You left it at the apartment.
If you left it at the apartment, it's not your fault.
I had you bring a bunch of stuff.
I reminded you about it,
but I didn't illustrate how personal the watch was to me.
If all I gave a fuck about was the watch, I should've told you that.
You're not a mind reader. Are you?
I'm sorry.
Don't be. Just means I can't have breakfast with you.
Why does it mean that?
Because I gotta go back to my apartment and get my watch.
Won't the gangsters be looking for you there?
Well, that's what I'm gonna find out.
If they are, and I don't think I can handle it, then I'll split.
I saw your watch. I thought I brought it. I'm so sorry.
Here's some money. Get those pancakes. Have a nice breakfast.
I'll take your Honda. I'll be back before you can say blueberry pie.
Blueberry pie.
Maybe not that fast.
- But pretty fast, OK? - OK.
- Bye. - Bye.
Of all the fucking things she could fuckin' 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."
Visit the Jackrabbit Slim's nearest you the next time...
Lookin' good, Butch.
That's how you're gonna beat 'em, Butch.
They keep underestimatin' you.
Motherfucker!
- Do you think he's dead? - He's dead.
- Oh, my God. - He's dead.
If you need someone to go to court, I'll be glad to help.
That guy was a drunken maniac. He hit you, then crashed into that car.
- Who? - Him.
I'll be damned.
I'm shot!
Sally! Sally!
- Can I help you with somethin'? - Shut the fuck up!
Now, you just wait a goddamn minute, now. What the fuck are you up to?
Come here, motherfucker!
You feel that sting, big boy? That's pride fuckin' with you. See?
You gotta fight through that shit!
- You'd better kill me. - Somebody's gonna get killed.
Somebody's gonna get their motherfuckin' head blown to...
- Hold it right there, goddamn it. - This ain't none of your business.
I'm makin' it my business. Toss the weapon.
- You don't understand, man. - Toss the weapon.
Take your foot off the nigger. Put your hand behind your head.
Approach the counter right now.
This motherfucker's tryin' to kill me!
Shut up. Keep comin'. Come on.
Zed. Maynard.
Yeah, the spider just caught a couple of flies.
Nobody kills anybody in my place of business except me or Zed.
That's Zed.
- I thought you said you waited for me. - I did.
Then how come they're all beat up?
They did that to each other, man. They came in fightin'.
Now, this one right here, he was gonna shoot that one.
Is that right? You gonna shoot him, boy?
Hey, is Grace all right out front?
- Yeah. It ain't Tuesday, is it? - No, it's Thursday.
- She oughta be fine. - All right.
Well, bring out the gimp.
Think the gimp's sleepin'.
Then I guess you'll just have to go wake him up now, won't you?
Get up.
Get down.
Which one of 'em you wanna do first?
I ain't for sure yet.
Eenie-meenie-minie-mo,
catch a nigger by his toe.
If he hollers, let him go.
Eenie-meenie-minie-mo.
My mother said
pick the perfect one.
And you are...
it.
Guess that means you, big boy.
Wanna do it in here?
No, let's take him back there to Russell's old room.
Sounds good to me.
You keep an eye on this 'un.
Yeah!
Now go! Come on, motherfucker!
Now, motherfucker!
Yeah!
Yeah! Yeah!
Come on, motherfucker!
Yeah!
Come on, motherfucker!
Come on! Get down there!
Yeah! Yeah, baby!
Shut the fuck up!
Fuck him!
Come on!
You want that gun, don't you, Zed?
Go ahead and pick it up.
Go ahead, pick it up.
Come on. Thatta boy!
I want you to pick it up, Zed.
Step aside, Butch.
Fuck! Fuck you!
You OK?
No, man.
I'm pretty fuckin' far from OK.
What now?
Let me tell you what now.
I'm gonna call a couple of hard pipe-hittin' niggas
to go to work on the homes here
with a pair of pliers and a blowtorch.
You hear me talkin', hillbilly boy?
I ain't through with you by a damn sight!
I'm gonna get medieval on your ass!
I meant, what now between me and you?
Oh, that "what now."
I tell you what now between me and you.
There is no me and you.
Not no more.
So are we cool?
Yeah, we cool.
Two things:
Don't tell nobody about this.
This shit is between me, you
and Mr "Soon To Be Livin' 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?
Deal.
Get your ass outta here.
Fabienne!
Fabienne! Come on, baby. Come on. Get your shit.
- We gotta go. - I was worried. What about our bags?
Fuck them. We don't split, we'll miss the train.
- I'll be downstairs. - Everything well?
- Just come on! No talking now! - Are we in danger?
Come on, honey!
- Where did you get this motorcycle? - It's not a motorcycle,
- it's a chopper. Let's go. - What happened to my Honda?
I'm sorry, baby. I had to crash that Honda. Will you come on now, please?
Come on. Let's go, let's go, let's go.
- You're hurt? - No, no, I might've broken my nose.
It's no biggie. Come on, hop on. Baby, please, we got...
Honey, we gotta hit the fuckin' road! Get on!
Oh, baby, I'm sorry. Come here. I'm sorry.
- I'm so sorry. - You were gone so long,
- I started to think dreadful thoughts. - I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to worry you. How was breakfast?
- Good. - Did you get the blueberry pancakes?
They didn't have them. I got buttermilk.
- Sure you're OK? - Honey, since I left you, it has...
This has been the weirdest fuckin' day of my life.
Hop on. I'll tell you all about it. Get on.
Gotta go. Come on.
Butch, whose motorcycle is this?
- It's a chopper. - Whose chopper is this?
- Zed's. - Who's Zed?
Zed's dead, baby. Zed's dead.
Yes, you did, Brett!
You tried to fuck him, and Marsellus Wallace
don't like to be fucked by anybody except Mrs Wallace.
- God, please. I don't wanna die. - You read the Bible, Brett?
- Yes! - There's this passage I got memorized.
Sorta fits the occasion. 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 thee."
- I'm fucked. Oh, fuck. - Is he a friend of yours?
- God damn. - Vincent, Marvin. Marvin, Vincent.
Tell him to shut the fuck up. He's gettin' on my nerves.
Marvin! Marvin! I'd knock that shit off if I was you.
Die, you motherfuckers! Die!
Why didn't you tell us somebody was in the bathroom?
Slip your mind? Did you forget someone was in there
with a goddamn hand cannon?
You see the size of that gun he fired at us? It was bigger than him.
We should be fuckin' dead, man.
- I know. We was Iucky. - No. That shit wasn't luck.
- Yeah, maybe. - This was divine intervention.
Know what divine intervention is?
I think so. That means that God came down and stopped the bullets.
Right. That's exactly what it means.
God came down from heaven and stopped these motherfuckin' bullets.
- I think it's time for us to leave. - Don't do that.
Don't fuckin' blow this shit off! What happened was a fuckin' miracle.
- Chill, Jules. This shit happens. - Wrong! This shit doesn't "happen."
Do you want to continue this theological discussion in a car
- or in a jailhouse with the cops? - We should be fuckin' dead, my friend!
What happened here was a miracle, and I want you to fucking acknowledge it!
All right. It was a miracle. Can we go now?
Let's go, nigga! Come on! Shit.
You ever seen that show Cops?
I was watching it, and there was this cop on,
he was talkin' about this gunfight he had with this guy.
He unloaded on this guy, and nothin' happened. He didn't hit nothin'.
OK? It was just him and this guy.
I mean, you know, it's freaky, but it happens.
You wanna play blind man, walk with the shepherd.
But me, my eyes are wide fuckin' open.
- What the fuck does that mean? - It means that's it for me.
From here on in, consider my ass retired.
- Jesus Christ. - Don't blaspheme.
- God damn it! - Don't do that!
Why you freakin' out?
Look, I'm tellin' Marsellus today. I'm through.
- Tell him at the same time why. - Don't worry, I will.
And I'll bet you $10,000 he laughs his ass off.
- I don't give a damn if he does. - Marvin, what do you make of all this?
- I don't even have an opinion. - You gotta have an opinion.
Do you think that God came down from heaven and stopped...
What the fuck's happenin'? Shit, man!
- I shot Marvin in the face. - Why the fuck'd you do that?
I didn't mean to. It was an accident.
I seen some crazy-ass shit, but...
Chill out! It was an accident. You went over a bump or somethin'
- The car ain't hit no bump. - Look.
I didn't mean to shoot him.
- The gun went off. I don't know why. - Look at this mess!
We're on a city street in daylight!
- I can't believe it! - Believe it!
We gotta get this car off the road! Cops notice shit like
drivin' a car drenched in blood.
- Take it to a friendly place. - This is the Valley.
Marsellus ain't got friendly places.
- This ain't my fuckin' town, man! - Shit!
- What you doing? - Calling my partner in Toluca Lake.
Where's Toluca Lake?
It's just over the hill here, over by Burbank Studio.
If Jimmie ain't home, I don't know what we'll do,
cos I ain't got no other partners in 818.
Jimmie, yo, how you doin', man? It's Jules. Just listen up.
Me and my homeboy are in serious shit. We're in a car.
We gotta get off the road. I need your garage for a few hours.
We gotta be real fuckin' delicate with Jimmie.
He's one remark away from kickin' our asses out.
If he does, what do we do?
We ain't leavin' till we made calls,
but I don't want it to reach that. He's a friend.
You don't come to your friend and tell him what's what.
Tell him not to be abusive, that's all.
He freaked out there when he saw Marvin.
Put yourself in his position. 8:00 in the morning. He woke up.
He wasn't expectin' this shit.
Remember who's doin' who a favour.
If that means I gotta take shit, he can stick that favour
- up his ass. I don't care. - Fuck, nigga!
- What did you do to his towel? - I was dryin' my hands!
- Wash 'em first. - You watched me wash 'em.
- I watched you get 'em wet. - This shit's hard to get off.
If he had Lava I could've done a better job.
I used the same soap. When I finished, the towel didn't look like no maxi pad!
What if he was to come in here and see his towel?
It's shit like this that's gonna bring this situation to a head, man!
Look, I ain't threatenin' you or nothin', all right?
You know I respect you and all. But just don't put me in this position.
All right. Fine. Fine.
Ask me nice like that, no problem.
Just go handle your friend. Go ahead. I don't care.
God damn, Jimmie! This some serious gourmet shit.
We would've been satisfied with freeze-dried Taster's Choice.
Right? And he springs this serious gourmet shit on us.
- What flavour is this? - Knock it off, Julie.
- What? - I don't need you to tell me
how fuckin' good my coffee is.
I buy it. I know how good it is.
When Bonnie shops, she buys shit.
I buy the gourmet stuff cos when I drink it, I wanna 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. - Jimmie, don't even worry...
No. I wanna ask you a question.
When you came here, did you notice the sign
on my house, "Dead Nigger Storage"?
- You know I ain't seen no... - Did you notice the sign
- that said, "Dead Nigger Storage"? - No, I didn't.
- You know why you didn't see that sign? - Why?
Cos it ain't there, cos storing dead niggers ain't my fuckin' business!
We're not gonna...
Don't you fuckin' realize
that if Bonnie comes home and finds a body in her house,
I'll get divorced? No marriage counsellor.
No trial separation. I'll get fuckin' divorced.
And I don't wanna get fuckin' divorced!
You know... Fuck, I mean, I wanna help you,
but I don't wanna lose my wife doin' it.
Jimmie, she ain't gonna leave you.
Don't fuckin' "Jimmie" me, Jules! Don't fuckin' "Jimmie" me.
There's nothin' you'll say that will 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.
The graveyard shift at the hospital.
You gotta make some phone calls? You gotta call some people?
Do it, and then get the fuck out of my house before she gets here.
That's Kool and the Gang. We don't wanna fuck your shit up.
All I wanna do is call my people, get 'em to bring us in.
Fuck my shit up? You're fucking my shit up right now!
You're gonna fuck my shit up if Bonnie comes home.
Just do me that favour. The phone is in my bedroom. Get going.
Well, say she comes home.
What do you think she'll do?
Oh, no fuckin' shit she'll freak.
That ain't no kinda answer.
I mean, you know, I don't. How much? A lot or a little?
You got to appreciate what an explosive element this Bonnie situation is.
She comes home from a hard day's work,
finds gangsters in her kitchen doing gangster shit,
there ain't no tellin' what she's liable to do.
Yeah, I've grasped that, Jules.
I'm contemplating the "if's."
I don't wanna hear about no "if's."
All I want to hear is, "You ain't got no probIem.
I'm on the motherfucker. Go back, chill them niggas out,
wait for the cavalry, which will be coming directly."
You ain't got no problem, Jules.
I'm on the motherfucker. Go back in there
and chill them niggas out and wait for The Wolf, who should be coming directly.
- You sendin' The Wolf? - Oh, you feel better, motherfucker?
Shit, Negro, that's all you had to say!
She the hysterical type?
When is she due?
Give me the principals' names.
Place your bets.
- Jules. - Cards, please.
Vincent.
Jimmie.
Bonnie.
It's 30 minutes away. I'll be there in ten.
You're Jimmie, right? This is your house?
- It sure is. - I'm Winston Wolf. I solve problems.
- Good. We got one. - So I heard. May I come in?
Yeah. Please do.
You must be Jules.
Which would make you Vincent. Let's get down to brass tacks.
If I was informed correctly, the clock is ticking. Right?
One hundred percent.
Your wife Bonnie comes home at 9:30 in the a.m., is that correct?
I was led to believe if she comes home and finds us,
she wouldn't appreciate it none too much.
She wouldn't at that.
That gives us 40 minutes to get the fuck outta Dodge,
which, if you do what I say, when I say it, should be plenty.
Now, you got a corpse in a car, minus a head, in a garage. Take me to it.
Jimmie?
Do me a favour. Thought I smelled some coffee back there.
- Would you make me a cup? - Yeah, sure.
Oh, how do you take it?
Lots of cream, lots of sugar.
Anything I need to know about the car? Does it stall?
Smoke? Make noise? Is there gas in it? Anything?
Aside from how it looks, the car's cool.
Positive?
Don't get me on the road, I find out the lights don't work.
- The motherfucker's tip-top. - Good enough.
Let's go back to the kitchen.
- Here you go, Mr Wolf. - Thank you, Jimmie.
OK, first thing. You two. Take the body, stick it in the trunk.
Jimmie, this looks to be a pretty domesticated house.
That would lead me to believe that under the sink, you got cleaners?
- Under the sink. - What I need you two fellas to do
is take those products and cIean the car.
I'm talkin' fast, fast, fast.
You need to go in the back seat, scoop up all those pieces of brain and skull.
Get it out. Wipe down the upholstery.
Upholstery don't need to be spick-and-span.
You don't need to eat off it. Just give it a once-over.
You need to take care of the really messy parts.
Pools of blood that have collected, soak that shit up.
Now, Jimmie, we need to raid your linen closet.
I need blankets, comforters, quilts and bedspreads.
Thicker the better, darker the better. No whites.
We'll need to camouflage the interior.
We'll line the front and back seat and floorboards
with quilts and blankets, so if a cop stops us
and sticks his snout in the car, the subterfuge won't last,
but at a glance the car will appear to be normal.
Jimmie, lead the way. Boys, get to work.
"Please" would be nice.
- Come again? - I said, a "please" would be nice.
I'm not here to say please. I'm here to tell you what to do.
If self-preservation is an instinct you possess,
you'd better fuckin' do it and do it quick.
I'm here to help. If my help's not appreciated, lots of luck, gentlemen.
No, it ain't like that. Your help is appreciated.
Mr Wolf, listen. I don't mean disrespect, OK? I respect you.
I don't like people barkin' orders.
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, wlth sugar on top, clean the fuckin' car.
Don't be lookin' at me like that, all right? I can feel your look.
It's a 1974 Chevy Nova.
Green.
Nothin', except for the mess inside.
About 20 minutes.
Nobody who'll be missed.
You're a good man, Joe. Thanks a bunch.
- How we comin'? - Pretty good.
I got it all here, but, Mr Wolf, you gotta understand something.
- Winston, Jimmie, please. Winston. - OK.
You gotta understand something, Winston.
No, thank you.
This is our best linen here, and it's...
It was a wedding present from my Uncle Conrad and Aunt Ginny,
and they're not with us anymore. I wanna help you...
Let me ask you a question, Jimmie. If you don't mind.
No, please, please. Go ahead.
Your Uncle Conrad and Aunt Ginny, were they millionaires?
- No. - Well, your Uncle Marsellus is.
And I'm positive that if Uncle Conrad and Aunt...
- Ginny. - Ginny were here,
they would furnish you with a whole bedroom set,
which your Uncle Marsellus is more than happy to do.
I like oak myself. That's what I have in my bedroom.
How about you, Jimmie?
You an oak man?
Oak's nice.
Oh, man, I will never forgive your ass for this shit.
This is fucked-up, repugnant shit.
Ever hear the philosophy that once a man admits that he's wrong
he is immediately forgiven for all wrongdoings?
Get the fuck out with that shit!
The motherfucker said that never had to pick up pieces
of skull on account of your dumb ass.
I got a threshold, Jules, for the abuse that I will take.
Now, I'm a fuckin' racecar, and you got me in the red.
I'm just sayin' that it's dangerous to have a racecar in the fuckin' red.
- That's all. I could blow. - Oh, you ready to blow?
I'm ready to blow.
I'm a mushroom-cloud-layin' motherfucker.
Every time my fingers touch brain, I'm Super Fly T.N.T.
I'm the Guns of the Navarone. In fact, what the fuck am I doin' in the back?
You should be on brain detail! We fuckin' switchin'.
I'm washin' windows, you pickin' up skull!
Fine job, gentlemen.
- You may get out of this yet. - I can't believe this is the same car.
Well, let's not start suckin' each other's dicks quite yet.
Phase one is complete, clean the car. Phase two:
Clean you two.
- Strip. - All the way?
To your bare ass.
Quickly, gentlemen. We got about 15 minutes
before Jimmie's better half comes pulling into the driveway.
Damn, this morning air is chilly shit.
- Sure this is necessary? - You know what you two look like?
- What? - Guys who blew off somebody's head.
Strippin' off those bloody rags is absolutely necessary.
- Toss 'em in the garbage bag. - Don't do nothin' stupid,
like leavin' this out front for Otto the garbageman.
Don't worry. We're taking it with us. Jim, the soap.
- Vincent. - You both been to County before.
- Here it comes. - God damn!
- The water's fuckin' cold! - Better you than me, gentlemen.
Don't be afraid of the soap. Spread it around.
- Get 'em up there. Vincent's hair. - Get out of my hair!
Come on. Do it, God damn it! Do it!
Towel.
You're dry enough. Toss 'em their clothes.
Perfect. Perfect. We couldn't have planned this better.
You guys look like...
What do they look like, Jimmie?
Dorks. They look like a couple of dorks.
They're your clothes, motherfucker.
Come on, gentlemen. We're laughing our way into prison. Don't make me beg.
OK, gentlemen, let's get our rules of the road straight.
We're going to Monster Joe's Truck and Tow.
Monster Joe and his daughter Raquel are sympathetic.
The place is North Hollywood,
so a few twists 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 till I do something.
- Right. - What did I say?
- Don't do shit unless. - Unless what?
- Unless you do it first. - Spoken like a true prodigy.
How about you, Lash LaRue? Keep your spurs from jingling and jangling?
Look. The gun went off. I don't know why. I'm cool. I promise you.
Fair enough. Now, 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.
Outta my way, Rex.
- We cool? - Like it never happened.
- All right. - Boys, this is Raquel.
- Someday all this will be hers. - Hi. So, what's with the outfits?
You guys going to a volleyball game or something?
I'm takin' milady out for breakfast.
I could drop you off. Where do you live?
- Redondo. - Inglewood.
It's your future. I...
I see a cab ride.
Move outta the sticks, fellas. Say good night, Raquel.
- Good night, Raquel. - I'll see you around.
Stay outta trouble, crazy kids.
Mr Wolf, I just wanna tell you it was a real pleasure watching you work.
Yeah, really. And thank you very much, Mr Wolf.
Call me Winston.
You see that, young lady? Respect.
- Respect for elders shows character. - I have character.
Because you are a character doesn't mean that you have character.
- Wanna share a cab? - Yeah. I'd go for some breakfast.
- Feel like havin' breakfast with me? - Cool.
I don't know, I thought he'd be European, because he...
He's as European as English Bob.
- I know that now. - But was he cool or what?
- Thank you. - Totally fuckin' cool, in control.
Didn't even really get pissed when you were fuckin' with him. I was amazed.
- Want some bacon? - No, man. I don't eat pork.
- Are you Jewish? - I ain't Jewish.
- I just don't dig on swine, that's all. - Why not?
Pigs are filthy animals. I don't eat filthy animals.
Yeah, but bacon tastes good. Pork chops taste good.
Sewer rat may taste like pumpkin pie, I'd never know,
cos I wouldn't eat the filthy motherfuckers.
Pigs sleep and root in shit. That's a filthy animal.
I'll eat nothin' ain't got sense to disregard its own faeces.
- Dog eats its own faeces. - I don't eat dog either.
Yeah, but do you consider a dog to be a filthy animal?
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.
By that rationale, if a pig had a better personality,
he would cease to be a filthy animal, is that true?
We'd have to be talkin' about one charming motherfuckin' pig.
He'd have to be ten times more charming than that Arnold on Green Acres.
Oh, man, that's good. That's good, man.
You're startin' to lighten up.
You've been sittin', all serious and shit.
- I just been sittin' here, thinkin'. - About what?
- About the miracle we witnessed. - Miracle you witnessed.
- I witnessed a freak occurrence. - What is a miracle, Vincent?
- Act of God. - And what's an act of God?
When God makes the impossible possible.
But this morning, I don't think qualifies.
Vincent, don't you see? That shit don't matter.
You're judging this the wrong way. It could be God stopped the bullets,
or he changed Coke to Pepsi, found my fuckin' car keys.
You don't judge shit like this based on merit. 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. - But why?
That's fuckin' with me: I don't know why.
- But I can't go back to sleep. - You're serious.
- You're thinkin' about quittin'. - The life?
- Yeah. - Definitely.
Fuck.
What you gonna do then?
Well, that's what I been sitting here contemplating.
First I'm gonna deliver this case to Marsellus.
Then, basically, I'm just gonna walk the Earth.
- What you mean, "walk the Earth"? - Like Caine in Kung Fu.
Walk from place to place, meet people, get in adventures.
How long do you intend to walk the Earth?
Till God puts me where He wants me to be.
And what if He don't do that?
If it takes forever, then I'll walk forever.
- So, you decided to be a bum. - I'll just be Jules, Vincent.
- No more, no less. - No, Jules,
you decided to be a bum, like all those pieces of shit out there
who beg for change, who sleep in garbage bins, eat what I throw away.
They got a name for that, Jules. It's called a bum. And without a job,
residence or legal tender, that's what you're gonna be.
- You're gonna be a fuckin' bum. - My friend,
- this is just where you and I differ. - Garçon! Coffee!
Jules, look, what happened this morning, man, I agree it was peculiar.
- But water into wine, I... - All shapes and sizes.
- Don't talk to me that way. - If my answers frighten you,
then you should cease asking scary questions.
I'm gonna take a shit.
Let me ask you. When did you make this decision?
- When you were eatin' that muffin? - Yeah.
I was sittin', eatin' my muffin drinkin' my coffee,
replayin' the incident in my head,
when I had what alcoholics refer to as a moment of clarity.
Fuck. To be continued.
- I love you, Pumpkin. - I love you, Honey Bunny.
Everybody be cool! This is a robbery!
Any of you fucking pricks move,
and I'll execute every one of you motherfuckers!
- You got that? Be quiet over there! - Waitresses on the floor!
Get the fuck down!
You're in a blind spot. Take your dames to that booth
over there on the count of ten.
Outta the kitchen!
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight...
What the fuck are you doing, fucking yuppie? Get down!
- Hurry up. Get down! - You! Throw those bags!
Fucking wake up! Move! Move!
- Fucking move! - OK, OK, OK.
- ...restaurant down! - Get down on the fucking floor!
- Grandpa! Down! - You fat...
I'm the manager here, and there's no problem. No problem at all.
- You gonna give me a problem? - Sir, I'm not.
You were gonna give me a problem! You gonna give me a fucking problem?
- I think we got a hero, Honey Bunny. - Well, just execute him!
I am not a hero. I'm just a coffee shop manager.
- Get the fuck down. - The restaurant's ours!
- Just take whatever you want. - You talk to the customers.
- Yeah. - Tell them to be cool...
- Yes. - ...it'll be over.
- You understand me? - Yes!
Listen, everybody. Be calm, cooperate,
and this'll all be over in a minute!
Get the fuck down! Well done.
Gonna come around and collect your wallets!
You don't fucking talk. You just throw 'em ln the bag! Are we clear?
I said, are we fucking clear?
Good! Now, wallets out!
- Get the fuck down. In the bag. - Yes, sir.
- In the fucking bag! - Yes, sir.
- I don't have nothin' on me, man. - In the bag. What am I waiting for?
In the fucking bag. Laura. Laura. Tips. In the bag.
- Yeah? - Is that a cellular phone?
- Yeah. - In the fucking bag.
Tidy up. Tidy up. That's it. Now get the fuck down on the floor.
In the bag. In the bag.
In the bag.
- What's in the case? - My boss's dirty laundry.
- He makes you do laundry? - When he wants it clean.
- Sounds like a shit job. - I was thinkin' the same.
- Open it. - 'Fraid I can't do that.
- I didn't hear you. - Yes, you did.
What's going on?
Looks like we've got a vigilante in our midst.
- Shoot him in the face! - Hate to shatter your ego.
It ain't the first time I've had a gun pointed at me.
Don't take your hand off, it'll be your last.
Don't cause problems! You'll get us killed!
Give 'em what you got!
Shut the fuck up, fat man! This ain't none of your goddamn business!
Be cool, Honey Bunny, be cool. It's no problem. I got it under control.
Now, I'm gonna count to three.
If you don't open that case, I'm gonna unload in your fucking face.
We clear?
One.
Two.
- Three. - OK, Ringo. You win.
It's yours.
Open it.
Hey, what is it? What is it?
Is that what I think it is?
- It's beautiful. - God damn it. What is it?
You let him go! You let him go!
- Let go, or I'll kill you! - Tell that bitch to be cool.
- "Bitch, be cool!" - Be cool!
- "Be cool!" - Be cool!
Tell that fuckin' bitch to chill! Chill that fuckin' bitch out!
- Chill out! - Let go of him!
- Chill! - Just chill out!
Tell her it's gonna be all right.
- Promise! - I promise!
- Tell her to chill! - Chill out!
Now, tell me her name.
- Yolanda. - All right, Yolanda,
we're not gonna do anything stupid?
- Don't you hurt him! - Nobody's gonna hurt anybody!
We're gonna be like three little Fonzies. What's Fonzie like?
- Come on! What's Fonzie like? - He's cool.
- What? - Cool.
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.
- OK, now you let him go! - I thought you were gonna be cool.
When you yell at me, it makes me nervous.
And when I get nervous, I get scared.
When motherfuckers get scared, motherfuckers accidentally get shot.
Just know, you hurt him, you die.
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.
Now, here's the situation.
Normally your asses would be dead as fuckin' fried chicken,
but you pulled this while I'm in a transitional period,
and I don't wanna kill you. I wanna help you.
But I can't give you this case, cos it don't belong to me.
Besides, I been through too much shit over this case this morning
to just hand it over to your dumb ass.
Vincent! Be cool!
- Yolanda, it's cool, baby. It's cool! - Get back!
We still just talkin'. Come on. Point the gun at me.
Point the gun at me. There you go.
Now, Vincent, you just hang back and don't do a goddamn thing.
- Tell her it's still cool. - It's still cool, Honey Bunny.
- How we doin', baby? - I gotta go pee. I wanna go home.
Hang in there. You're doing great. I'm proud of ya.
And Ringo's proud of you. It's almost over. Tell her you're proud of her.
- I'm proud of you, Honey Bunny. - I love you.
- I love you too, Honey Bunny. - Now,
I want you to go in that bag and find my wallet.
- Which one is it? - The one that says "Bad Motherfucker."
That's my bad motherfucker.
Open it up. Take out the money.
Count it.
How much is there?
- About 1,500 dollars. - Put it in your pocket. It's yours.
With the rest of those wallets and the register,
that makes this a successful little score.
Give that nimrod $1,500, I'll shoot him on general principle.
Yolanda! He ain't gonna do a motherfuckin' thing!
Vince, shut the fuck up!
- Shut up! - Come on, Yolanda. Stay with me, baby.
Now, I ain't givin' it to him, Vincent.
I'm buyin' something for my money.
- Wanna know what I'm buyin', Ringo? - What?
Your life. I'm givin' you that money so I don't have to kill your ass.
- You read the Bible, Ringo? - Not regularly, no.
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 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 thought it was cold-blooded shit to say to a motherfucker
before I popped a cap in his ass.
But I saw some shit this morning 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 9-mm 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.
Now, I'd like that.
But that shit ain't the truth.
The truth is
you're the weak
and I am the tyranny of evil men.
But I'm tryin', Ringo.
I'm tryin' real hard to be the shepherd.
Go.
I think we should be leaving now.
Yeah, that's probably a good idea.