Pulp Fiction

Pulp Fiction

(Cleaning their bloody hands.)
Jules: "What the fuck did you just do to this towel?"
Vincent: "I was just dryin' my hands."
Jules: "You're supposed to wash 'em first."
Vincent: "You watched me wash 'em."
Jules: "I watched you get 'em wet."
Vincent: "I washed 'em. This stuff's real hard to get off. Maybe if he had some Lava, I coulda done a better job."
Jules: "I used the same soap you did and when I dried my hands, the towel didn't look like no fuckin' maxi-pad."

Jules: "Normally, both of you would be dead as fucking fried chicken by now, but since I'm in a transitional period, I don't want to kill either one of your asses."

Jimmie: "Well, the thing on my mind right now isn't the good coffee in my cup, it's the dead nigger in my garage."

Honey Bunny: "Any of you fuckin' pricks move, and I'll execute every mother fuckin' last one of ya."

Vincent Vega: "And you know what they call a ... a ... a Quarter Pounder with cheese in Paris?"
Jules: "They don't call it a Quarter Pounder with cheese?"
Vincent Vega: "No man, they got the metric system. They wouldn't know what the fuck a Quarter Pounder is."
Jules: "Then what do they call it?"
Vincent Vega: "They call it a "Royale" with cheese."
Jules: "A "Royale" with cheese! What do they call a Big Mac?"
Vincent Vega: "A Big Mac's a Big Mac, but they call it "le Big-Mac"."
Jules: ""Le Big-Mac"! Ha ha ha ha! What do they call a Whopper?"
Vincent Vega: "I dunno, I didn't go into Burger King."

Butch: "You okay?"
Marcellus: "No. I'm pretty fuckin' far from okay."

(Jules shoots the guy on the couch during Brett's interrogation)
Jules: "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I break your concentration?"

Marcellus: "No one needs to know about this except you, me and Mr.-soon-to-be-living-the-rest-of-his-short-ass-life-in-agonizing-pain-rapist here."

Jimmie: "Now let me ask you a question, Jules. When you drove in here, did you notice a sign out in front that said, "Dead nigger storage"?"
Jules: "Jimmie..."
Jimmie: "Answer the question! Did you see a sign out in front of my house that said "Dead nigger storage"?"
Jules: "Naw man, I didn't."
Jimmie: "You know why you didn't see that sign?"
Jules: "Why?"
Jimmie: "'Cause storin' dead niggers ain't my fuckin' business!"

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