Found 431 results
1m29s
Mmm! Goddamn, Jimmie! This some serious gourmet shit. Me and Vincent would've been satisfied... with some freeze-dried Taster's Choice. Right? [ Chuckles ] And he springs this serious gourmet shit on us. - What flavor is this? - Knock it off, Julie. - What? - I don't need you to tell me how fuckin' good my coffee is. I'm the one who buys it. I know how good it is. When Bonnie goes shopping, she buys shit. I buy the gourmet expensive stuff 'cause 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- - Don't tell me about anything. I wanna ask you a question. When you came pulling in here, did you notice the sign on the front of my house that said, "Dead Nigger Storage"? - You know I ain't seen no- - Did you notice the sign on the front of my house... that said, "Dead Nigger Storage"? No. I didn't. - You know why you didn't see that sign? - [ Sighs ] Why? 'Cause it ain't there, 'cause storing dead niggers ain't my fuckin' business, that's why! - We're not gonna store the motherfucker- - Don't you fuckin' realize... that if Bonnie comes home and finds a dead body in her house, I'm gonna get divorced? No marriage counselor. No trial separation. I'm gonna get fuckin' divorced. Okay? And I don't wanna get fuckin' divorced! Man, you know, fuck, I wanna help you, but I don't wanna lose my wife doin' it. Jimmie, Jimmie, she ain't gonna leave you. Don't fuckin' "Jimmie" me, Jules! Okay? Don't fuckin' "Jimmie" me. There's nothin' you're gonna say that's gonna make me forget I love my wife. Is there?
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
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
26.7s
- Have you met Mia? - Not yet. - [ Chuckles ] - 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'm gonna sit across from her, chew my food with my mouth closed, Iaugh at her fuckin' jokes, and that's it. Hey, my name's Paul, and this shit's between y'all. Then what'd you fuckin' ask me about it for? [ Whispers ] Asshole.
Pulp Fiction
1m6s
- [ Engine Starts ] - [ Radio: "Flowers On The Wall" ] lf I were walkin' in your shoes Countin' flowers on the wall That don't bother me at all Playin' solitaire 'til dawn with a deck of fifty-one That's how you're gonna beat 'em, Butch. - Smokin' cigarettes and watchin' Captain Kangaroo - They keep underestimatin' ya. Now don't tell me [ Singing Along ] Countin' flowers on the wall That don't bother me at all Playin' solitaire 'til dawn with a deck of fifty-one Smokin' cigarettes and watchin' Captain Kangaroo Now don't tell me I've nothin' to do It's good to see you I must go I know I look a fright - Anyway my eyes - Motherfucker. - Are not accustomed- - Uhh!
Pulp Fiction
1m53s
- All right. Gimme three grams of madman. - Okay. Now, if it's as good as you say it is, I'll come back and buy another thousand. I just hope that I still have some left for ya, but I'm givin' you some out of my own private stash. That is what a nice guy I am. - I'm outta balloons. Is a baggie all right? - Yeah, that's cool. All right. I'll just get one for ya. Honey, will you get me some baggies and, uh, twistix from the kitchen? [ Woman ] Okay. Hey, uh, what do you think about Trudi? She ain't got a boyfriend. - You wanna hang out and get high? - Which one's Trudi? -The one with all the shit in her face? -No, that's Jody. That's my wife. - [ Chuckles ] I'm sorry, man. - Thank you. - No, I can't. I gotta be someplace. - All right, no problemo. - I'll take a rain check. - [ Knocking ] - Oh. - Thank you, Jody. Still got your Malibu? Oh, man, you know what some fucker did the other day? - What? - Fuckin' 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 fuckin' killed, man. 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. - It'd been worth him doin' it just so I could've caught him. - What a fucker! What's more chicken-shit than fuckin' with a man's automobile? - Don't fuck with another man's vehicle. - You don't do it. - It's just against the rules. - Thank you. Thank you. - Mind if I shoot up here? - Hey, mi casa es su casa. Muchas gracias. [ "Bullwinkle Part ll" ]
Pulp Fiction
36.7s
Mmmm. Don't you just 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's much of a waiter. Maybe we should've sat in Marilyn Monroe's section. - Which one? There's two Monroes. - No, there's not. That is Marilyn Monroe. That is Mamie Van Doren. I don't see Jayne Mansfield, so she must have the night off. - Pretty smart. - Yeah. I got my moments. - So did you think of somethin' to say? - Actually, I did.
Pulp Fiction