Found 431 results
51.7s
Oh, man, I will never forgive your ass for this shit. This is some fucked-up, repugnant shit. Jules, did you ever hear the philosophy that once a man admits he is wrong... that he is immediately forgiven for all wrongdoings? 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. - I got a threshold, Jules, for the abuse that I will take. Right now, I'm a fuckin' race car, and you got me in the red. I'm just sayin' it's fuckin' dangerous to have a race car in the fuckin' red. That's all. I could blow. - Oh, you ready to blow? - Yeah. Well, I'm a mushroom-cloud-layin' 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 doin' in the back? You're the motherfucker should be on brain detail! We're fuckin' switchin'. I'm washin' windows, and you're pickin' up this nigger's skull!
Pulp Fiction
30.2s
And 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, lotsa luck, gentlemen. No, Mr. Wolf, it ain't like that; your help is definitely appreciated. Mr. Wolf, listen. I don't mean disrespect, okay? I respect you. I just don't like people barkin' orders at me. 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, with sugar on top, clean the fuckin' car.
Pulp Fiction
28.3s
Have you lost your fucking mind? - You were talking about drug shit on a cellular phone! - Lance, help me. - You crashed your car into my fucking house! - Grab her feet. Are you deaf? You are not bringing this fucked-up bitch into my house! This "fucked-up bitch" is Marsellus Wallace's wife. - Do you know who Marsellus Wallace is? - Yeah. If she croaks on me, I am a fucking grease spot! I will be forced to tell him that you did not help and let her die on your lawn. Now, come on. Help me, help me. Pick her up.
Pulp Fiction