Found 431 results
1m43s
- [ Gunshot ] - Ohh! [ Woman Screaming ] - Aaaah! I'm shot! - [ Grunting ] [ Screaming Continues ] [ Grunting, Groaning ] - [ Grunts ] - [ Gunshot ] - [ Man ] Sally! Sally! - [ Grunting Continues ] [ Panting ] - [ Gunshot ] - Aaah! [ Radio: Whistling ] [ Marsellus, Muffled ] Motherfucker! - [ Door Bells Jingling ] - [ Panting ] - Can I help you with somethin'? - Shut the fuck up. Now you just wait a goddamn minute, now! What the fuck you up to? - Come here, motherfucker! - [ Both Grunting, Groaning ] - [ Marsellus Groaning ] - You feel that sting, huh, big boy? That's pride fuckin' with you, see? You gotta fight through that shit! [ Grunting ] Huh? - You'd better kill me- - Yeah, somebody's gonna get killed. Somebody's gonna get their motherfuckin' head blown to- - [ Shotgun Cocks ] - Hold it right there, goddamn it. - This ain't none of your business, mister. - I'm makin' it my business. - Toss the weapon. - You don't understand, man. Toss the weapon. [ Panting ] [ Woman On Radio ] It's time - To find love - Take your foot off the nigger, - [ Music Continues ] - put your hand behind your head, approach the counter right now. - This motherfucker's trying to... - [ Groans ] kill me. Shut up. Keep comin'. Come on. lf love ls shelter [ Radio: Whistling ]
Pulp Fiction
38.2s
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
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
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
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
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