PULP FICTION
(1994)
directed by Quentin Tarantino

PULP (pulp) n. 1. A soft, moist, shapeless
        mass or matter.
        2. A magazine or book containing lurid
        subject matter and being characteristically
        printed on rough, unfinished paper.
                                American Heritage Dictionary
                                New College Edition

WARNING: This site contains language and subject matter inappropriate to children.

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Yolanda: Any of you fuckin' pricks move and I'll execute every one of you motherfuckers! Got that?






Jules: Whoa... whoa... whoa... stop right there. Eatin' a bitch out, and givin' a bitch a foot massage ain't even the same fuckin' thing.
Vincent: Not the same thing, the same ballpark.
Jules: It ain't no ballpark either. Look maybe your method of massage differs from mine, but touchin' his lady's feet, and stickin' your tongue in her holyiest of holies, ain't the same ballpark, ain't the same league, ain't even the same fuckin' sport. Foot massages don't mean shit.
Vincent: Have you ever given a foot massage?
Jules: Don't be tellin' me about foot massages - I'm the foot fuckin' master.
Vincent: Given a lot of 'em?
Jules: Shit yeah. I got my technique down man, I don't tickle or nothin'.
Vincent: Have you ever given a guy a foot massage?
Jules: Fuck you.



Jules: Ezekiel 25:17. "The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you."






Marsellus: I think you're gonna find -- when all this shit is over and done -- I think you're gonna find yourself one smilin' motherfucker. Thing is Butch, right now you got ability. But painful as it may be, ability don't last. Now that's a hard motherfuckin' fact of life, but it's a fact of life your ass is gonna have to get realistic about. This business is filled to the brim with unrealistic motherfuckers who thought their ass aged like wine.



Marsellus: Now the night of the fight, you may feel a slight sting, that's pride fuckin' with ya. Fuck pride! Pride only hurts, it never helps. Fight through that shit. 'Cause a year from now, when you're kickin' it in the Caribbean you're gonna say, "Marsellus Wallace was right."



Mia: I do believe Marsellus Wallace, my husband, your boss, told you to take me out and do whatever I want. I wanna dance, I wanna win. I want that trophy, so dance good.









Girl, you'll be a woman soon (by Urge Overkill)



Lance: Well, you're giving her an injection of adrenalin straight to her heart. But she's got a breast plate in front of her heart, so you gotta pierce through that. So what you gotta do is bring the needle down in a stabbing motion.



Captain Koons: The way your Dad looked at it, this watch was your birthright. He'd be damned if any of the slopes were gonna get their greasy yellow hands on his boy's birthright. So he hid it in the one place he knew he could hide something: his ass. Five long years, he wore this watch up his ass. Then when he died of dysentery, he gave me the watch. I hid this uncomfortable piece of metal up my ass for two years. Then, after seven years, I was sent home to my family. And now, little man, I give the watch to you.






Esmeralda: What is your name?
Butch: Butch.
Esmeralda: What does it mean?
Butch: I'm American, honey. Our names don't mean shit.



Flowers on the Wall (by Statler Brothers)



Zed: Bring out The Gimp.
Maynard: I think The Gimp's asleep.
Zed: Well, I guess you better go and wake him up then.



Butch: You okay?
Marsellus: Naw man. I'm pretty fuckin' far from okay!
Butch: What now?
Marsellus: What now? Well let me tell you what now. I'm gonna call a couple of pipe-hittin' niggers, who'll go to work on homes here with a pair of pliers and a blow torch. Hear me talkin' hillbilly boy?! I ain't through with you by a damn sight. I'm gonna get medieval on your ass.
Butch: I meant what now, between me and you?
Marsellus: Oh, that what now? Well, let me tell ya what now between me and you. There is no me and you. Not no more...No one needs to know about this except you, me and Mr. Soon-to-be-living-the-rest-of-his-short-ass-life-in-agonizing-pain-rapist here.



Jules: We should be fuckin' dead now, my friend! We just witnessed a miracle, and I want you to fuckin' acknowledge it!
Vincent: Okay man, it was a miracle, can we leave now?



Shit happens.



Marsellus: I've grasped that, Jules. All I'mdoin' is contemplating the "ifs."
Jules: I don't wanna hear about no motherfuckin' ifs. All I wanna hear from yo' ass is, "You ain't got no problem, Jules. I'm on the motherfucker. Go back in there, chill them niggers out and wait for the calvary which should be coming directly."
Marsellus: You ain't got no problem Jules. I'm on the moterfucker. Go back in there, chill them niggers out and wait for the Wolf who should be coming directly.



The Wolf: Do me a favor, will you? Thought I smelled some coffee in there. Would you make me a cup?
Jimmie: Sure, how do you take it?
The Wolf: Lots of cream, lots of sugar.



Vincent: I've got a threshold, Jules, I've got a threshold for the abuse that I'll take and right now I'm a racecar, man, and you got me in the red. I'm just saying, I'm just saying it's fucking dangerous to have a racecar in the fucking red, that's all. I might blow.
Jules: Oh, you ready to blow? Well I'm a mushroom-cloud-laying motherfucker, motherfucker! Everytime my fingers touch brain I'm Superfly TNT, I'm the Guns of the Navarone. In fact, what the fuck am I doing in the back? You're the motherfucker who should be on brain detail! We're fucking switching, I'm washing the windows and you're picking up this nigger's skull.



The Wolf: 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 want to get out of this. So pretty please, with sugar on top, clean the fuckin' car.



The Wolf: You know what you two look like?
Vincent: What?
The Wolf: Like a couple of guys who just blew off somebody's head. Yes, strippin' off those bloody rags is absolutely necessary.



The Wolf: You guys look like...what do they look like, Jimmie?
Jimmie: Dorks. They look like a couple of dorks.



Jules: Ha ha ha. They're your clothes, motherfucker.



Jules: Now this is the situation. Normally both of your asses would be dead as fuckin' fried chicken. But you happened to pull this shit while I'm in a transitional period. I don't wanna kill ya, I want to help ya. But I'm afraid I can't give you the case. It don't belong to me. Besides, I went through too much shit this morning on account of this case to just hand it over to your ass.



Jules: Ezekiel 25:17...I been sayin' that shit for years. And if you ever heard it, it meant your ass. I never really questioned what it meant. I thought it was just a cold-blooded thing to say to a motherfucker before you popped a cap in his ass. But I saw some shit this mornin' made me think twice. Now I'm thinkin': it could mean you're the evil man. And I'm the righteous man. And Mr. 9mm here, he's the shepherd protecting my righteous ass in the valley of darkness. Or it could be you're the righteous man and I'm the shepherd and it's the world that's evil and selfish. I'd like that. But that shit ain't the truth. The truth is you're the weak. And I'm the tyranny of evil men. But I'm tryin', Ringo. I'm tryin' real hard to be a shepherd.