- Hey, mister. - What? You were in that fight, the fight on the radio. - You're the fighter? - Whatever gave you that idea? No, come on. You're him. I know you're him.
And, uh, here's a little something for the effort. Now, if anybody asks you who your fare was tonight, what are you gonna say? The truth. Three well-dressed, slightly toasted Mexicans.
Pulp Fiction
11.6s
I think so. That means that God came down from Heaven and stopped the bullets. That's right. That's exactly what it means. God came down from Heaven and stopped these motherfuckin' bullets.
Pulp Fiction
2.4s
Sorry about that, Floyd.
Pulp Fiction
7.1s
Goddamn, that's a pretty fuckin' good milkshake! -Told ya. -I don't know if it was worth $5, but it's pretty fuckin' good.
Pulp Fiction
5.8s
-[ Zed ] Guess that means you, big boy. -[ Muffled ] Fuck you! - [ Muffled Mumbling ] - Shh.
Pulp Fiction
8.2s
Keep the light off. - Is that better, Sugar Pop? - Oui. - [ Siren Wailing ln Distance ] - [ Dog Barking ]
