Forget it. It's too risky. I'm through doing that shit. You always say that. The same thing every time. "l'm through, never again, too dangerous." I know that's what I always say. I'm always right too. - You forget about it in a day or two. - The days of me forgetting are over. The days of me remembering have just begun. You know, when you go on like this, what you sound like? - I sound like a sensible fuckin' man. - You sound like a duck. - Quack, quack, quack. - Take heart, 'cause you're never gonna have to hear it again. Since I'm never gonna do it again, you're never gonna have to hear me quack. - After tonight? - Correct. I got all tonight to quack. - Can I get anyone more coffee? - Oh, yes!
Pulp Fiction
13.4s
Everybody be cool! This is a robbery! Any of you fucking pricks move, and I'll execute every motherfuckin' last one of you. and I'll execute every motherfuckin' last one of you. [ "Miserlou" ]
Pulp Fiction
12.6s
[ Man ] Man, you know I didn't- - Marsellus. - No, it wasn't. I didn't do it. I didn't do it. - How you doing? - Great. I never thanked you for dinner.
Pulp Fiction
3.2s
Gar�on means boy.
Pulp Fiction
23.3s
A foot massage? - That's it? - Mm-hmm. Then what'd Marsellus do? Sent a couple cats over to his place. They took him out on his patio. Threw his ass over the balcony. Nigger fell four stories. He had a little garden down at the bottom enclosed in glass, like a greenhouse. Nigger fell through that. Since then, he kind of developed a speech impediment.
Pulp Fiction
2.9s
- I love you, Pumpkin. - I love you, Honey Bunny.
Pulp Fiction
6.7s
What does it feel like? What does what feel like? Killing a man.
Pulp Fiction
1m24s
- How many up there? - Three or four. - That's countin' our guy? - Not sure. - So that means that it 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 a actress. Oh, really? She do anything I'd have seen? - I think 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. Yeah, but you are aware that there is an invention called television, - and on this invention they show shows, right? - Yeah. 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 wanna make more shows. Some get chosen and become television programs. Some don't, become nothin'. She starred in one of the ones that became nothing. You remember Antwan Rockamora? Half-black, half-Samoan. Used to call him "Tony Rocky Horror." - Yeah, maybe. Fat, right? - I wouldn't go so far as to call the brother fat. I mean, he got a weight problem. What's a nigger gonna do? He's Samoan. - I think I know who you mean. What about him? - Marsellus fucked him up good. Word 'round the campfire is it was on account of Marsellus Wallace's wife. [ Elevator Bell Rings ]
Pulp Fiction
2.7s
- This is the door. - Yeah, it is.
Pulp Fiction
4.1s
[ Ice Cream Truck Bells ]
Pulp Fiction
30.7s
- How we comin', Jimmie? - Pretty good. - I got it all here, but, uh, - [ Sighs ] - Mr. Wolf, you gotta understand something. - Winston, Jimmie, Winston. Okay. You gotta understand something, uh, Winston. Uh- Uh, no, thank you. Uh, this is our best linen here, and it's, uh- it was a wedding present... from my Uncle Conrad and my Aunt Ginny. - They're not with us anymore. I wanna help- - Let me ask you a question. - If you don't mind. - No, no, please. Go ahead.
Pulp Fiction
2.1s
[ Engine Stops ]
Pulp Fiction
4.4s
[ Sighs ] Well, bring out the Gimp.
Pulp Fiction
22s
Yo, Vincent Vega. Our man in Amsterdam. Jules Winfield, our man in lnglewood. Get your asses on in here. - Goddamn, nigger, what's up with them clothes? - You don't even want to know. Where's the big man? The big man's right over there takin' care of some business. Why don't you hang back a second or two. You see the white boy leave, go on over.
Pulp Fiction
12.6s
- Fuck you. - [ Chuckles ] - You give 'em a lot? - Fuck you. - You know, I'm kind of tired. I could use a foot massage. - Yo, yo, yo, man. You best back off. I'm gettin' a little pissed here.
Pulp Fiction
1m8s
Bars, liquor stores, gas stations; you 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. Manager. He don't give a fuck. They're just trying to get you out before you start pluggin' the diners. Waitresses. Fuckin' forget it. No way they're takin' a bullet for the register. Busboys. Some wetback gettin' paid $1.50 an hour... really give a fuck you're stealin' from the owner? Customers sittin' there with food in their mouths, they don't know what's goin' on. One minute, they're havin' a Denver omelet, the next, someone is stickin' a gun in their face. See, I got the idea the last liquor store we stuck up, remember? - All the customers kept comin' in. - Yeah. You got the idea of takin' their wallets. Now, that was a good idea. - Thank you. - Made more from the wallets than we did from the register. - Yes, we did. - A lot of people come to restaurants. - A lot of wallets. - Pretty smart, huh? Pretty smart.
Pulp Fiction
10.6s
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 the employees.