Found 431 results
48s
- [ Woman On Television ] Don't you dare strike me! - Hello. Lance! Vincent. I'm in big fuckin' trouble, man. I'm coming to your house. W-Whoa. Whoa. Hold your horses, man. W-What's the problem? - I got this chick, she's fuckin' O. D.in' on me! - Well, don't bring her here! I'm not even joking with you! Do not be bringing some fucked-up pooh-bah to my house! - No choice. - Wh- She's O.D.in'? - She's fuckin' dyin' on me, man! - [ Man On TV ] Just dandy. Okay, 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! Uh, are you talkin' to me on a cellular phone? I don't know you. Who is this? Don't come here! I'm hanging up the phone! Prank caller! Prank caller! [ Tires Screeching, Engine Racing ]
Pulp Fiction
36.9s
Answer. - [ Telephone Ringing ] - [ Man On Television ] Have you got the ring? - Why, certainly. - Join hands, you two lovebirds. - [ Ringing Continues ] - [ Woman ] Please! Please! Yes, yes. Hold hands, you lovebirds. - [ Ringing Continues ] - [ People On Television Yelling, Shouting ] [ Ringing ] Fuck you, Lance! Answer! - [ Ringing Continues ] - [ Yelling, Shouting Continue ] [ Woman ] Now what do you say? [ Man ] I give up! I'll marry you! - [ Ringing Continues ] - [ Jody ] Lance! The goddamn phone's ringing!
Pulp Fiction
33.5s
Sure. Except I think I'm still a little too petrified to laugh. No, you won't laugh 'cause it's not funny. But if you still wanna hear it, I'll tell it. - I can't wait. - Okay. Three tomatoes are walkin' 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." [ Weak Chuckle ] Ketchup.
Pulp Fiction
33.4s
Villa Lobos- Is that Mexican? The name is Spanish, but I am Colombian. - That's some handle you got there, honey. - Thank you. And what is your name? Butch. Butch. - What does it mean? - I'm an 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.
Pulp Fiction