7883 lines
354 KiB
Plaintext
7883 lines
354 KiB
Plaintext
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"PULP FICTION"
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By
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Quentin Tarantino & Roger Avary
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PULP [pulp] n.
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1. A soft, moist, shapeless mass or matter.
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2. A magazine or book containing lurid subject matter and
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being characteristically printed on rough, unfinished paper.
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American Heritage Dictionary: New College Edition
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INT. COFFEE SHOP – MORNING
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A normal Denny's, Spires-like coffee shop in Los Angeles.
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It's about 9:00 in the morning. While the place isn't jammed,
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there's a healthy number of people drinking coffee, munching
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on bacon and eating eggs.
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Two of these people are a YOUNG MAN and a YOUNG WOMAN. The
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Young Man has a slight working-class English accent and,
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like his fellow countryman, smokes cigarettes like they're
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going out of style.
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It is impossible to tell where the Young Woman is from or
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how old she is; everything she does contradicts something
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she did. The boy and girl sit in a booth. Their dialogue is
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to be said in a rapid pace "HIS GIRL FRIDAY" fashion.
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YOUNG MAN
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No, forget it, it's too risky. I'm
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through doin' that shit.
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YOUNG WOMAN
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You always say that, the same thing
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every time: never again, I'm through,
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too dangerous.
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YOUNG MAN
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I know that's what I always say. I'm
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always right too, but –
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YOUNG WOMAN
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– but you forget about it in a day
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or two -
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YOUNG MAN
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– yeah, well, the days of me
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forgittin' are over, and the days of
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me rememberin' have just begun.
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YOUNG WOMAN
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When you go on like this, you know
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what you sound like?
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YOUNG MAN
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I sound like a sensible fucking man,
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is what I sound like.
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YOUNG WOMAN
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You sound like a duck.
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(imitates a duck)
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Quack, quack, quack, quack, quack,
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quack, quack...
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YOUNG MAN
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Well take heart, 'cause you're never
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gonna hafta hear it again. Because
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since I'm never gonna do it again,
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you're never gonna hafta hear me
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quack about how I'm never gonna do
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it again.
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YOUNG WOMAN
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After tonight.
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The boy and girl laugh, their laughter putting a pause in
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there, back and forth.
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YOUNG MAN
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(with a smile)
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Correct. I got all tonight to quack.
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A WAITRESS comes by with a pot of coffee.
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WAITRESS
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Can I get anybody anymore coffee?
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YOUNG WOMAN
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Oh yes, thank you.
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The Waitress pours the Young Woman's coffee. The Young Man
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lights up another cigarette.
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YOUNG MAN
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I'm doin' fine.
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The Waitress leaves. The Young Man takes a drag off of his
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smoke.
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The Young Woman pours a ton of cream and sugar into her
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coffee.
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The Young Man goes right back into it.
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YOUNG MAN
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I mean the way it is now, you're
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takin' the same fuckin' risk as when
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you rob a bank. You take more of a
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risk. Banks are easier! Federal
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banks aren't supposed to stop you
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anyway, during a robbery. They're
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insured, why should they care? You
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don't even need a gun in a federal
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bank. I heard about this guy, walked
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into a federal bank with a portable
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phone, handed the phone to the teller,
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the guy on the other end of the phone
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said: "We got this guy's little girl,
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and if you don't give him all your
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money, we're gonna kill 'er."
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YOUNG WOMAN
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Did it work?
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YOUNG MAN
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Fuckin' A it worked, that's what I'm
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talkin' about! Knucklehead walks in
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a bank with a telephone, not a pistol,
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not a shotgun, but a fuckin' phone,
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cleans the place out, and they don't
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lift a fuckin' finger.
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YOUNG WOMAN
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Did they hurt the little girl?
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YOUNG MAN
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I don't know. There probably never
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was a little girl – the point of the
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story isn't the little girl. The
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point of the story is they robbed
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the bank with a telephone.
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YOUNG WOMAN
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You wanna rob banks?
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YOUNG MAN
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I'm not sayin' I wanna rob banks,
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I'm just illustrating that if we
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did, it would be easier than what we
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been doin'.
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YOUNG WOMAN
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So you don't want to be a bank robber?
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YOUNG MAN
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Naw, all those guys are goin' down
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the same road, either dead or servin'
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twenty.
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YOUNG WOMAN
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And no more liquor stores?
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YOUNG MAN
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What have we been talking about?
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Yeah, no more-liquor-stores. Besides,
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it ain't the giggle it usta be. Too
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many foreigners own liquor stores.
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|
Vietnamese, Koreans, they can't
|
|||
|
|
fuckin' speak English. You tell 'em:
|
|||
|
|
"Empty out the register," and they
|
|||
|
|
don't know what it fuckin' means.
|
|||
|
|
They make it too personal. We keep
|
|||
|
|
on, one of those gook motherfuckers'
|
|||
|
|
gonna make us kill 'em.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG WOMAN
|
|||
|
|
I'm not gonna kill anybody.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG MAN
|
|||
|
|
I don't wanna kill anybody either.
|
|||
|
|
But they'll probably put us in a
|
|||
|
|
situation where it's us of them. And
|
|||
|
|
if it's not the gooks, it these old
|
|||
|
|
Jews who've owned the store for
|
|||
|
|
fifteen fuckin' generations. Ya got
|
|||
|
|
Grandpa Irving sittin' behind the
|
|||
|
|
counter with a fuckin' Magnum. Try
|
|||
|
|
walkin' into one of those stores
|
|||
|
|
with nothin' but a telephone, see
|
|||
|
|
how far it gets you. Fuck it, forget
|
|||
|
|
it, we're out of it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG WOMAN
|
|||
|
|
Well, what else is there, day jobs?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG MAN
|
|||
|
|
(laughing)
|
|||
|
|
Not this life.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG WOMAN
|
|||
|
|
Well what then?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He calls to the Waitress.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG MAN
|
|||
|
|
Garcon! Coffee!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Then looks to his girl.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG MAN
|
|||
|
|
This place.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Waitress comes by, pouring him some more.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
WAITRESS
|
|||
|
|
(snotty)
|
|||
|
|
"Garcon" means boy.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She splits.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG WOMAN
|
|||
|
|
Here? It's a coffee shop.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG MAN
|
|||
|
|
What's wrong with that? People never
|
|||
|
|
rob restaurants, why not? Bars, liquor
|
|||
|
|
stores, gas stations, you get your
|
|||
|
|
head blown off stickin' up one of
|
|||
|
|
them. Restaurants, on the other hand,
|
|||
|
|
you catch with their pants down.
|
|||
|
|
They're not expecting to get robbed,
|
|||
|
|
or not as expecting.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG WOMAN
|
|||
|
|
(taking to idea)
|
|||
|
|
I bet in places like this you could
|
|||
|
|
cut down on the hero factor.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG MAN
|
|||
|
|
Correct. Just like banks, these places
|
|||
|
|
are insured. The managers don't give
|
|||
|
|
a fuck, they're just tryin' to get
|
|||
|
|
ya out the door before you start
|
|||
|
|
pluggin' diners. Waitresses, forget
|
|||
|
|
it, they ain't takin' a bullet for
|
|||
|
|
the register. Busboys, some wetback
|
|||
|
|
gettin' paid a dollar fifty a hour
|
|||
|
|
gonna really give a fuck you're
|
|||
|
|
stealin' from the owner. Customers
|
|||
|
|
are sittin' there with food in their
|
|||
|
|
mouths, they don't know what's goin'
|
|||
|
|
on. One minute they're havin' a Denver
|
|||
|
|
omelet, next minute somebody's
|
|||
|
|
stickin' a gun in their face.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Young Woman visibly takes in the idea. The Young Man
|
|||
|
|
continues in a low voice.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG MAN
|
|||
|
|
See, I got the idea last liquor store
|
|||
|
|
we stuck up. 'Member all those
|
|||
|
|
customers kept comin' in?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG WOMAN
|
|||
|
|
Yeah.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG MAN
|
|||
|
|
Then you got the idea to take
|
|||
|
|
everybody's wallet.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG WOMAN
|
|||
|
|
Uh-huh.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG MAN
|
|||
|
|
That was a good idea.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG WOMAN
|
|||
|
|
Thanks.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG MAN
|
|||
|
|
We made more from the wallets then
|
|||
|
|
we did the register.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG WOMAN
|
|||
|
|
Yes we did.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG MAN
|
|||
|
|
A lot of people go to restaurants.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG WOMAN
|
|||
|
|
A lot of wallets.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG MAN
|
|||
|
|
Pretty smart, huh?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Young Woman scans the restaurant with this new
|
|||
|
|
information.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She sees all the PATRONS eating, lost in conversations. The
|
|||
|
|
tired WAITRESS, taking orders. The BUSBOYS going through the
|
|||
|
|
motions, collecting dishes. The MANAGER complaining to the
|
|||
|
|
COOK about something. A smiles breaks out on the Young Woman's
|
|||
|
|
face.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG WOMAN
|
|||
|
|
Pretty smart.
|
|||
|
|
(into it)
|
|||
|
|
I'm ready, let's go, right here,
|
|||
|
|
right now.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG MAN
|
|||
|
|
Remember, same as before, you're
|
|||
|
|
crowd control, I handle the employees.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG WOMAN
|
|||
|
|
Got it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
They both take out their .32-caliber pistols and lay them on
|
|||
|
|
the table. He looks at her and she back at him.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG WOMAN
|
|||
|
|
I love you, Pumpkin.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOUNG MAN
|
|||
|
|
I love you, Honey Bunny.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
And with that, Pumpkin and Honey Bunny grab their weapons,
|
|||
|
|
stand up and rob the restaurant. Pumpkin's robbery persona
|
|||
|
|
is that of the in-control professional. Honey Bunny's is
|
|||
|
|
that of the psychopathic, hair-triggered, loose cannon.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
(yelling to all)
|
|||
|
|
Everybody be cool this is a robbery!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
HONEY BUNNY
|
|||
|
|
Any of you fuckin' pricks move and
|
|||
|
|
I'll execute every one of you
|
|||
|
|
motherfuckers! Got that?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CUT TO:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CREDIT SEQUENCE:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"PULP FICTION"
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. '74 CHEVY (MOVING) – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
An old gas guzzling, dirty, white 1974 Chevy Nova BARRELS
|
|||
|
|
down a homeless-ridden street in Hollywood. In the front
|
|||
|
|
seat are two young fellas – one white, one black – both
|
|||
|
|
wearing cheap black suits with thin black ties under long
|
|||
|
|
green dusters. Their names are VINCENT VEGA (white) and JULES
|
|||
|
|
WINNFIELD (black). Jules is behind the wheel.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
– Okay now, tell me about the hash
|
|||
|
|
bars?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
What so you want to know?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Well, hash is legal there, right?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Yeah, it's legal, but is ain't a
|
|||
|
|
hundred percent legal. I mean you
|
|||
|
|
can't walk into a restaurant, roll a
|
|||
|
|
joint, and start puffin' away. You're
|
|||
|
|
only supposed to smoke in your home
|
|||
|
|
or certain designated places.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Those are hash bars?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Yeah, it breaks down like this: it's
|
|||
|
|
legal to buy it, it's legal to own
|
|||
|
|
it and, if you're the proprietor of
|
|||
|
|
a hash bar, it's legal to sell it.
|
|||
|
|
It's legal to carry it, which doesn't
|
|||
|
|
really matter 'cause – get a load of
|
|||
|
|
this – if the cops stop you, it's
|
|||
|
|
illegal for this to search you.
|
|||
|
|
Searching you is a right that the
|
|||
|
|
cops in Amsterdam don't have.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
That did it, man – I'm fuckin' goin',
|
|||
|
|
that's all there is to it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
You'll dig it the most. But you know
|
|||
|
|
what the funniest thing about Europe
|
|||
|
|
is?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
What?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
It's the little differences. A lotta
|
|||
|
|
the same shit we got here, they got
|
|||
|
|
there, but there they're a little
|
|||
|
|
different.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Examples?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Well, in Amsterdam, you can buy beer
|
|||
|
|
in a movie theatre. And I don't mean
|
|||
|
|
in a paper cup either. They give you
|
|||
|
|
a glass of beer, like in a bar. In
|
|||
|
|
Paris, you can buy beer at
|
|||
|
|
MacDonald's. Also, you know what
|
|||
|
|
they call a Quarter Pounder with
|
|||
|
|
Cheese in Paris?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
They don't call it a Quarter Pounder
|
|||
|
|
with Cheese?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
No, they got the metric system there,
|
|||
|
|
they wouldn't know what the fuck a
|
|||
|
|
Quarter Pounder is.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
What'd they call it?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Royale with Cheese.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
(repeating)
|
|||
|
|
Royale with Cheese. What'd they call
|
|||
|
|
a Big Mac?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Big Mac's a Big Mac, but they call
|
|||
|
|
it Le Big Mac.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Le Big Mac. What do they call a
|
|||
|
|
Whopper?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I dunno, I didn't go into a Burger
|
|||
|
|
King. But you know what they put on
|
|||
|
|
french fries in Holland instead of
|
|||
|
|
ketchup?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
What?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Mayonnaise.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Goddamn!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I seen 'em do it. And I don't mean a
|
|||
|
|
little bit on the side of the plate,
|
|||
|
|
they fuckin' drown 'em in it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Uuccch!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CUT TO:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. CHEVY (TRUNK) – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The trunk of the Chevy OPENS UP, Jules and Vincent reach
|
|||
|
|
inside, taking out two .45 Automatics, loading and cocking
|
|||
|
|
them.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
We should have shotguns for this
|
|||
|
|
kind of deal.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
How many up there?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Three or four.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Counting our guy?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
I'm not sure.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
So there could be five guys up there?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
It's possible.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
We should have fuckin' shotguns.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
They CLOSE the trunk.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CUT TO:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING COURTYARD – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent and Jules, their long matching overcoats practically
|
|||
|
|
dragging on the ground, walk through the courtyard of what
|
|||
|
|
looks like a hacienda-style Hollywood apartment building.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
We TRACK alongside.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
What's her name?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Mia.
|
|||
|
|
ccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccc
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
How did Marsellus and her meet?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
I dunno, however people meet people.
|
|||
|
|
She usta be an actress.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
She ever do anything I woulda saw?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
I think her biggest deal was she
|
|||
|
|
starred in a pilot.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
What's a pilot?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Well, you know the shows on TV?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I don't watch TV.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Yes, but you're aware that there's
|
|||
|
|
an invention called television, and
|
|||
|
|
on that invention they show shows?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Yeah.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Well, the way they pick the shows on
|
|||
|
|
TV is they make one show, and that
|
|||
|
|
show's called a pilot. And they show
|
|||
|
|
that one show to the people who pick
|
|||
|
|
the shows, and on the strength of
|
|||
|
|
that one show, they decide if they
|
|||
|
|
want to make more shows. Some get
|
|||
|
|
accepted and become TV programs, and
|
|||
|
|
some don't, and become nothing. She
|
|||
|
|
starred in one of the ones that became
|
|||
|
|
nothing.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
They enter the apartment building.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. RECEPTION AREA (APARTMENT BUILDING) – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent and Jules walk through the reception area and wait
|
|||
|
|
for the elevator.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
You remember Antwan Rockamora? Half-
|
|||
|
|
black, half-Samoan, usta call him
|
|||
|
|
Tony Rocky Horror.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Yeah maybe, fat right?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
I wouldn't go so far as to call the
|
|||
|
|
brother fat. He's got a weight
|
|||
|
|
problem. What's the nigger gonna
|
|||
|
|
do, he's Samoan.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I think I know who you mean, what
|
|||
|
|
about him?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Well, Marsellus fucked his ass up
|
|||
|
|
good. And word around the campfire,
|
|||
|
|
it was on account of Marsellus
|
|||
|
|
Wallace's wife.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The elevator arrives, the men step inside.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. ELEVATOR – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
What'd he do, fuck her?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
No no no no no no no, nothin' that
|
|||
|
|
bad.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Well what then?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
He gave her a foot massage.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
A foot massage?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules nods his head: "Yes."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
That's all?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules nods his head: "Yes."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
What did Marsellus do?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Sent a couple of guys over to his
|
|||
|
|
place. They took him out on the
|
|||
|
|
patio of his apartment, threw his
|
|||
|
|
ass over the balcony. Nigger fell
|
|||
|
|
four stories. They had this garden
|
|||
|
|
at the bottom, enclosed in glass,
|
|||
|
|
like one of them greenhouses – nigger
|
|||
|
|
fell through that. Since then, he's
|
|||
|
|
kinda developed a speech impediment.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The elevator doors open, Jules and Vincent exit.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
That's a damn shame.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. APARTMENT BUILDING HALLWAY – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
STEADICAM in front of Jules and Vincent as they make a beeline
|
|||
|
|
down the hall.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Still I hafta say, play with matches,
|
|||
|
|
ya get burned.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Whaddya mean?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
You don't be givin' Marsellus
|
|||
|
|
Wallace's new bride a foot massage.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
You don't think he overreacted?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Antwan probably didn't expect
|
|||
|
|
Marsellus to react like he did, but
|
|||
|
|
he had to expect a reaction.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
It was a foot massage, a foot massage
|
|||
|
|
is nothing, I give my mother a foot
|
|||
|
|
massage.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
It's laying hands on Marsellus
|
|||
|
|
Wallace's new wife in a familiar
|
|||
|
|
way. Is it as bad as eatin' her out
|
|||
|
|
– no, but you're in the same fuckin'
|
|||
|
|
ballpark.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules stops Vincent.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
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 holyies, 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 looks at him a long moment – he's been set up.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Fuck you.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He starts walking down the hall. Vincent, smiling, walks a
|
|||
|
|
little bit behind.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
How many?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Fuck you.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Would you give me a foot massage –
|
|||
|
|
I'm kinda tired.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Man, you best back off, I'm gittin'
|
|||
|
|
pissed – this is the door.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The two men stand in front of the door numbered "49." They
|
|||
|
|
whisper.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
What time is it?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
(checking his watch)
|
|||
|
|
Seven-twenty-two in the morning.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
It ain't quite time, let's hang back.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
They move a little away from the door, facing each other,
|
|||
|
|
still whispering.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Look, just because I wouldn't give
|
|||
|
|
no man a foot massage, don't make it
|
|||
|
|
right for Marsellus to throw Antwan
|
|||
|
|
off a building into a glass-
|
|||
|
|
motherfuckin-house, fuckin' up the
|
|||
|
|
way the nigger talks. That ain't
|
|||
|
|
right, man. Motherfucker do that to
|
|||
|
|
me, he better paralyze my ass, 'cause
|
|||
|
|
I'd kill'a motherfucker.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I'm not sayin' he was right, but
|
|||
|
|
you're sayin' a foot massage don't
|
|||
|
|
mean nothing, and I'm sayin' it does.
|
|||
|
|
I've given a million ladies a million
|
|||
|
|
foot massages and they all meant
|
|||
|
|
somethin'. We act like they don't,
|
|||
|
|
but they do. That's what's so fuckin'
|
|||
|
|
cool about 'em. This sensual thing's
|
|||
|
|
goin' on that nobody's talkin about,
|
|||
|
|
but you know it and she knows it,
|
|||
|
|
fuckin' Marsellus knew it, and Antwan
|
|||
|
|
shoulda known fuckin' better. That's
|
|||
|
|
his fuckin' wife, man. He ain't gonna
|
|||
|
|
have a sense of humor about that
|
|||
|
|
shit.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
That's an interesting point, but
|
|||
|
|
let's get into character.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
What's her name again?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Mia. Why you so interested in big
|
|||
|
|
man's wife?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Well, Marsellus is leavin' for Florida
|
|||
|
|
and when he's gone, he wants me to
|
|||
|
|
take care of Mia.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Take care of her?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Making a gun out of his finger and placing it to his head.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Not that! Take her out. Show her a
|
|||
|
|
good time. Don't let her get lonely.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
You're gonna be takin' Mia Wallace
|
|||
|
|
out on a date?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
It ain't a date. It's like when you
|
|||
|
|
and your buddy's wife go to a movie
|
|||
|
|
or somethin'. It's just... you know...
|
|||
|
|
good company.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules just looks at him.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
It's not a date.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules just looks at him.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. APARTMENT (ROOM 49) – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THREE YOUNG GUYS, obviously in over their heads, sit at a
|
|||
|
|
table with hamburgers, french fries and soda pops laid out.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
One of them flips the LOUD BOLT on the door, opening it to
|
|||
|
|
REVEAL Jules and Vincent in the hallway.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Hey kids.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The two men stroll inside.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The three young caught-off-guard Guys are:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MARVIN, the black young man, who open the door, will, as the
|
|||
|
|
scene progresses, back into the corner.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ROGER, a young blond-haired surfer kid with a "Flock of
|
|||
|
|
Seagulls" haircut, who has yet to say a word, sits at the
|
|||
|
|
table with a big sloppy hamburger in his hand.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT, a white, preppy-looking sort with a blow-dry haircut.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent and Jules take in the place, with their hands in
|
|||
|
|
their pockets. Jules is the one who does the talking.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
How you boys doin'?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
No answer.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
(to Brett)
|
|||
|
|
Am I trippin', or did I just ask you
|
|||
|
|
a question.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
We're doin' okay.
|
|||
|
|
fffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
As Jules and Brett talk, Vincent moves behind the young Guys.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Do you know who we are?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Brett shakes his head: "No."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
We're associates of your business
|
|||
|
|
partner Marsellus Wallace, you
|
|||
|
|
remember your business partner
|
|||
|
|
dont'ya?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
No answer.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
(to Brett)
|
|||
|
|
Now I'm gonna take a wild guess here:
|
|||
|
|
you're Brett, right?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
I'm Brett.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
I thought so. Well, you remember
|
|||
|
|
your business partner Marsellus
|
|||
|
|
Wallace, dont'ya Brett?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
I remember him.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Good for you. Looks like me and
|
|||
|
|
Vincent caught you at breakfast,
|
|||
|
|
sorry 'bout that. What'cha eatin'?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
Hamburgers.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Hamburgers. The cornerstone of any
|
|||
|
|
nutritious breakfast. What kinda
|
|||
|
|
hamburgers?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
Cheeseburgers.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
No, I mean where did you get'em?
|
|||
|
|
MacDonald's, Wendy's, Jack-in-the-
|
|||
|
|
Box, where?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
Big Kahuna Burger.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Big Kahuna Burger. That's that
|
|||
|
|
Hawaiian burger joint. I heard they
|
|||
|
|
got some tasty burgers. I ain't never
|
|||
|
|
had one myself, how are they?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
They're good.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Mind if I try one of yours?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
No.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Yours is this one, right?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
Yeah.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules grabs the burger and take a bite of it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Uuummmm, that's a tasty burger.
|
|||
|
|
(to Vincent)
|
|||
|
|
Vince, you ever try a Big Kahuna
|
|||
|
|
Burger?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
No.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules holds out the Big Kahuna.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
You wanna bite, they're real good.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I ain't hungry.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Well, if you like hamburgers give
|
|||
|
|
'em a try sometime. Me, I can't
|
|||
|
|
usually eat 'em 'cause my girlfriend's
|
|||
|
|
a vegetarian. Which more or less
|
|||
|
|
makes me a vegetarian, but I sure
|
|||
|
|
love the taste of a good burger.
|
|||
|
|
(to Brett)
|
|||
|
|
You know what they call a Quarter
|
|||
|
|
Pounder with Cheese in France?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
No.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Tell 'em, Vincent.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Royale with Cheese.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Royale with Cheese, you know why
|
|||
|
|
they call it that?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
Because of the metric system?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Check out the big brain on Brett.
|
|||
|
|
You'a smart motherfucker, that's
|
|||
|
|
right. The metric system.
|
|||
|
|
(he points to a fast
|
|||
|
|
food drink cup)
|
|||
|
|
What's in this?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
Sprite.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Sprite, good, mind if I have some of
|
|||
|
|
your tasty beverage to wash this
|
|||
|
|
down with?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
Sure.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules grabs the cup and takes a sip.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Uuuuummmm, hit's the spot!
|
|||
|
|
(to Roger)
|
|||
|
|
You, Flock of Seagulls, you know
|
|||
|
|
what we're here for?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Roger nods his head: "Yes."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Then why don't you tell my boy here
|
|||
|
|
Vince, where you got the shit hid.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MARVIN
|
|||
|
|
It's under the be –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
– I don't remember askin' you a
|
|||
|
|
goddamn thing.
|
|||
|
|
(to Roger)
|
|||
|
|
You were sayin'?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ROGER
|
|||
|
|
It's under the bed.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent moves to the bed, reaches underneath it, pulling out
|
|||
|
|
a black snap briefcase.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Got it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent flips the two locks, opening the case. We can't see
|
|||
|
|
what's inside, but a small glow emits from the case. Vincent
|
|||
|
|
just stares at it, transfixed.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
We happy?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
No answer from the transfixed Vincent.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Vincent!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent looks up at Jules.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
We happy?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Closing the case.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
We're happy.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
(to Jules)
|
|||
|
|
Look, what's your name? I got his
|
|||
|
|
name's Vincent, but what's yours?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
My name's Pitt, and you ain't talkin'
|
|||
|
|
your ass outta this shit.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
I just want you to know how sorry we
|
|||
|
|
are about how fucked up things got
|
|||
|
|
between us and Mr. Wallace. When we
|
|||
|
|
entered into this thing, we only had
|
|||
|
|
the best intentions –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
As Brett talks, Jules takes out his gun and SHOOTS Roger
|
|||
|
|
three times in the chest, BLOWING him out of his chair.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vince smiles to himself. Jules has got style.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Brett has just shit his pants. He's not crying or whimpering,
|
|||
|
|
but he's so full of fear, it's as if his body is imploding.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
(to Brett)
|
|||
|
|
Oh, I'm sorry. Did that break your
|
|||
|
|
concentration? I didn't mean to do
|
|||
|
|
that. Please, continue. I believe
|
|||
|
|
you were saying something about "best
|
|||
|
|
intentions."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Brett can't say a word.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Whatsamatter? Oh, you were through
|
|||
|
|
anyway. Well, let me retort. Would
|
|||
|
|
you describe for me what Marsellus
|
|||
|
|
Wallace looks like?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Brett still can't speak.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules SNAPS, SAVAGELY TIPPING the card table over, removing
|
|||
|
|
the only barrier between himself and Brett. Brett now sits
|
|||
|
|
in a lone chair before Jules like a political prisoner in
|
|||
|
|
front of an interrogator.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
What country you from!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
(petrified)
|
|||
|
|
What?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
"What" ain't no country I know! Do
|
|||
|
|
they speak English in "What?"
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
(near heart attack)
|
|||
|
|
What?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
English-motherfucker-can-you-speak-
|
|||
|
|
it?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
Yes.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Then you understand what I'm sayin'?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
Yes.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Now describe what Marsellus Wallace
|
|||
|
|
looks like!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
(out of fear)
|
|||
|
|
What?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules takes his .45 and PRESSES the barrel HARD in Brett's
|
|||
|
|
cheek.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Say "What" again! C'mon, say "What"
|
|||
|
|
again! I dare ya, I double dare ya
|
|||
|
|
motherfucker, say "What" one more
|
|||
|
|
goddamn time!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Brett is regressing on the spot.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Now describe to me what Marsellus
|
|||
|
|
Wallace looks like!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Brett does his best.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
Well he's... he's... black –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
– go on!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
...and he's... he's... bald –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
– does he look like a bitch?!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
(without thinking)
|
|||
|
|
What?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules' eyes go to Vincent, Vincent smirks, Jules rolls his
|
|||
|
|
eyes and SHOOT Brett in the shoulder.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Brett SCREAMS, breaking into a SHAKING/TREMBLING SPASM in
|
|||
|
|
the chair.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Does-he-look-like-a-bitch?!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
(in agony)
|
|||
|
|
No.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Then why did you try to fuck 'im
|
|||
|
|
like a bitch?!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
(in spasm)
|
|||
|
|
I didn't.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Now in a lower voice.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Yes ya did Brett. Ya tried ta fuck
|
|||
|
|
'im. You ever read the Bible, Brett?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT
|
|||
|
|
(in spasm)
|
|||
|
|
Yes.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
There's a passage I got memorized,
|
|||
|
|
seems appropriate for this situation:
|
|||
|
|
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."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The two men EMPTY their guns at the same time on the sitting
|
|||
|
|
Brett.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
AGAINST BLACK, TITLE CARD:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"VINCENT VEGA AND MARSELLUS WALLACE'S WIFE"
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FADE IN:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MEDIUM SHOT – BUTCH COOLIDGE
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
We FADE UP on BUTCH COOLIDGE, a white, 26-year-old
|
|||
|
|
prizefighter. Butch sits at a table wearing a red and blue
|
|||
|
|
high school athletic jacket. Talking to him OFF SCREEN is
|
|||
|
|
everybody's boss MARSELLUS WALLACE. The black man sounds
|
|||
|
|
like a cross between a gangster and a king.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MARSELLUS (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
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 hafta git realistic
|
|||
|
|
about. This business is filled to
|
|||
|
|
the brim with unrealistic
|
|||
|
|
motherfuckers who thought their ass
|
|||
|
|
aged like wine. Besides, even if
|
|||
|
|
you went all the way, what would you
|
|||
|
|
be? Feather-weight champion of the
|
|||
|
|
world. Who gives a shit? I doubt you
|
|||
|
|
can even get a credit card based on
|
|||
|
|
that.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
A hand lays an envelope full of money on the table in front
|
|||
|
|
of Butch. Butch picks it up.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MARSELLUS (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
Now the night of the fight, you may
|
|||
|
|
fell a slight sting, that's pride
|
|||
|
|
fuckin' wit 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."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
I got no problem with that.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MARSELLUS (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
In the fifth, your ass goes down.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch nods his head: "yes."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MARSELLUS (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
Say it!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
In the fifth, my ass goes down.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CUT TO:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. CAR (MOVING) – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent Vega looks really cool behind the wheel of a 1964
|
|||
|
|
cherry red Chevy Malibu convertible. From the car radio,
|
|||
|
|
ROCKABILLY MUSIC PLAYS. The b.g. is a COLORFUL PROCESS SHOT.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. SALLY LEROY'S – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Sally LeRoy's is a large topless bar by LAX that Marsellus
|
|||
|
|
owns.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent's classic Malibu WHIPS into the near empty parking
|
|||
|
|
lot and parks next to a white Honda Civic.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vince knocks on the door. The front entrance is unlocked,
|
|||
|
|
revealing the Dapper Dan fellow on the inside: ENGLISH DAVE.
|
|||
|
|
Dave isn't really English, he's a young black man from Baldwin
|
|||
|
|
Park, who has run a few clubs for Marsellus, including Sally
|
|||
|
|
LeRoy's.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ENGLISH DAVE
|
|||
|
|
Vincent Vega, our man in Amsterdam,
|
|||
|
|
git your ass on in here.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent, carrying the black briefcase from the scene between
|
|||
|
|
Vincent and Jules, steps inside. English Dave SLAMS the door
|
|||
|
|
in our faces.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. SALLY LEROY'S – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The spacious club is empty this time of day. English Dave
|
|||
|
|
crosses to the bar, and Vince follows.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Where's the big man?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ENGLISH DAVE
|
|||
|
|
He's over there, finishing up some
|
|||
|
|
business.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT'S POV: Butch shakes hands with a huge figure with
|
|||
|
|
his back to us. The huge figure is the infamous and as of
|
|||
|
|
yet still UNSEEN Marsellus.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ENGLISH DAVE (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
Hang back for a second or two, and
|
|||
|
|
when you see the white boy leave, go
|
|||
|
|
on over. In the meanwhile, can I
|
|||
|
|
make you an espresso?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
How 'bout a cup of just plain lo'
|
|||
|
|
American?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}
|
|||
|
|
ENGLISH DAVE
|
|||
|
|
Comin' up. I hear you're taking Mia
|
|||
|
|
out tomorrow?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
At Marsellus' request.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ENGLISH DAVE
|
|||
|
|
Have you met Mia?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Not yet.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
English Dave smiles to himself.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
What's so funny?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ENGLISH DAVE
|
|||
|
|
Not a goddamn thing.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Look, I'm not a idiot. She's the big
|
|||
|
|
man's fuckin' wife. I'm gonna sit
|
|||
|
|
across a table, chew my food with my
|
|||
|
|
mouth closed, laugh at her jokes and
|
|||
|
|
that's all I'm gonna do.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
English Dave puts Vince's coffee in front of him.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ENGLISH DAVE
|
|||
|
|
My name's Paul, and this is between
|
|||
|
|
y'all.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch bellies up to the bar next to Vincent, drinking his
|
|||
|
|
cup of "Plain ol' American."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
(to English Dave)
|
|||
|
|
Can I get a pack'a Red Apples?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ENGLISH DAVE
|
|||
|
|
Filters?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Non.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
While Butch waits for his smokes, Vincent just sips his
|
|||
|
|
coffee, staring at him. Butch looks over at him.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Lookin' at somethin', friend?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I ain't your friend, palooka.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch does a slow turn toward Vincent.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
What was that?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I think ya heard me just fine, punchy.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch turns his body to Vincent, when...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MARSELLUS (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
Vincent Vega has entered the building,
|
|||
|
|
git your ass over here!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent walks forward OUT OF FRAME, never giving Butch another
|
|||
|
|
glance. We DOLLY INTO CU on Butch, left alone in the FRAME,
|
|||
|
|
looking like he's ready to go into the manners-teaching
|
|||
|
|
business.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH'S POV: Vincent hugging and kissing the obscured figure
|
|||
|
|
that is Marsellus.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch makes the wise decision that is this asshole's a friend
|
|||
|
|
of Marsellus, he better let it go – for now.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ENGLISH DAVE (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
Pack of Red Apples, dollar-forty.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch is snapped out of his ass-kicking thoughts. He pays
|
|||
|
|
English Dave and walks out of the SHOT.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
DISSOLVE TO:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. LANCE'S HOUSE (KITCHEN) – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CLOSEUP – JODY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
A woman who appears to have a fondness for earrings. Both of
|
|||
|
|
her ears are pierced five times. She also sports rings in
|
|||
|
|
her lips, eyebrows and nose.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JODY
|
|||
|
|
...I'll lend it to you. It's a great
|
|||
|
|
book on body piercing.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jody, Vincent and a young woman named TRUDI sit at the kitchen
|
|||
|
|
table of a suburban house in Echo Park. Even though Vince is
|
|||
|
|
at the same table, he's not included in the conversation.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
TRUDI
|
|||
|
|
You know how they use that gun when
|
|||
|
|
they pierce your ears? They don't
|
|||
|
|
use that when they pierce your
|
|||
|
|
nipples, do they?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JODY
|
|||
|
|
Forget that gun. That gun goes against
|
|||
|
|
the entire idea behind piercing. All
|
|||
|
|
of my piercing, sixteen places on my
|
|||
|
|
body, every one of 'em done with a
|
|||
|
|
needle. Five in each ear. One through
|
|||
|
|
the nipple on my left breast. One
|
|||
|
|
through my right nostril. One through
|
|||
|
|
my left eyebrow. One through my lip.
|
|||
|
|
One in my clit. And I wear a stud in
|
|||
|
|
my tongue.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vince has been letting this conversation go through one ear
|
|||
|
|
and out the other, until that last remark.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
(interrupting)
|
|||
|
|
Excuse me, sorry to interrupt. I'm
|
|||
|
|
curious, why would you get a stud in
|
|||
|
|
your tongue?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jody looks at him and says as if it were the most obvious
|
|||
|
|
thing in the world.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JODY
|
|||
|
|
It's a sex thing. It helps fellatio.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
That thought never occurred to Vincent, but he can't deny it
|
|||
|
|
makes sense. Jody continues talking to Trudi, leaving Vincent
|
|||
|
|
to ponder the truth of her statement.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
Vince, you can come in now!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. LANCE'S BEDROOM – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Lance, late 20s, is a young man with a wild and woolly
|
|||
|
|
appearance that goes hand-in-hand with his wild and woolly
|
|||
|
|
personality. LANCE has been selling drugs his entire adult
|
|||
|
|
life. He's never had a day job, never filed a tax return and
|
|||
|
|
has never been arrested. He wears a red flannel shirt over a
|
|||
|
|
"Speed Racer" tee-shirt.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Three bags of heroin lie on Lance's bed.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Lance and Vincent stand at the foot of the bed.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
Now this is Panda, from Mexico. Very
|
|||
|
|
good stuff. This is Bava, different,
|
|||
|
|
but equally good. And this is Choco
|
|||
|
|
from the Hartz Mountains of Germany.
|
|||
|
|
Now the first two are the same, forty-
|
|||
|
|
five an ounce – those are friend
|
|||
|
|
prices – but this one...
|
|||
|
|
(pointing to the Choco)
|
|||
|
|
...this one's a little more expensive.
|
|||
|
|
It's fifty-five. But when you shoot
|
|||
|
|
it, you'll know where that extra
|
|||
|
|
money went. Nothing wrong with the
|
|||
|
|
first two. It's real, real, real,
|
|||
|
|
good shit. But this one's a fuckin'
|
|||
|
|
madman.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Remember, I just got back from
|
|||
|
|
Amsterdam.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
Am I a nigger? Are you in Inglewood?
|
|||
|
|
No. You're in my house. White people
|
|||
|
|
who know the difference between good
|
|||
|
|
shit and bad shit, this is the house
|
|||
|
|
they come to. My shit, I'll take the
|
|||
|
|
Pepsi Challenge with Amsterdam shit
|
|||
|
|
any ol' day of the fuckin' week.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
That's a bold statement.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
This ain't Amsterdam, Vince. This is
|
|||
|
|
a seller's market. Coke is fuckin'
|
|||
|
|
dead as disco. Heroin's comin' back
|
|||
|
|
in a big fuckin' way. It's this whole
|
|||
|
|
seventies retro. Bell bottoms, heroin,
|
|||
|
|
they're as hot as hell.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent takes out a roll of money that would choke a horse
|
|||
|
|
to death.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Give me three hundred worth of the
|
|||
|
|
madman. If it's as good as you say,
|
|||
|
|
I'll be back for a thousand.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
I just hope I still have it. Whaddya
|
|||
|
|
think of Trudi? She ain't got a
|
|||
|
|
boyfriend, wanna hand out an' get
|
|||
|
|
high?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Which one's Trudi? The one with all
|
|||
|
|
the shit in her face?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
No, that's Jody. That's my wife.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent and Lance giggle at the "faux pas."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I'm on my way somewhere. I got a
|
|||
|
|
dinner engagement. Rain check?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
No problem?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent takes out his case of the works (utensils for shooting
|
|||
|
|
up).
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
You don't mind if I shoot up here?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
Me casa, su casa.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Mucho gracias.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent takes his works out of his case and, as the two
|
|||
|
|
continue to talk, Vince shoots up.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
Still got your Malibu?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
You know what some fucker did to it
|
|||
|
|
the other day?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
What?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Fuckin' keyed it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
Oh man, that's fucked up.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Tell me about it. I had the goddamn
|
|||
|
|
thing in storage three years. It's
|
|||
|
|
out five fuckin' days – five days,
|
|||
|
|
and some dickless piece of shit fucks
|
|||
|
|
with it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
They should be fuckin' killed. No
|
|||
|
|
trial, no jury, straight to execution.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
As he cooks his heroin...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I just wish I caught 'em doin' it,
|
|||
|
|
ya know? Oh man, I'd give anything
|
|||
|
|
to catch 'em doin' it. It'a been
|
|||
|
|
worth his doin' it, if I coulda just
|
|||
|
|
caught 'em, you know what I mean?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
It's chicken shit. You don't fuck
|
|||
|
|
another man's vehicle.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CLOSEUP – THE NEEDLE
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Going into Vincent's vein.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CLOSEUP – BLOOD
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Spurting back into the syringe, mixing with the heroin.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CLOSEUP – VINCENT'S THUMB
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Pushing down on the plunger.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CUT TO:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. MARSELLUS WALLACE'S HOUSE – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent walks toward the house and pulls a note off the door
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CLOSEUP – NOTE
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Note reads:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"Hi Vincent, I'm getting dressed. The door's open. Come inside
|
|||
|
|
and make yourself a drink. Mia"
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA (V.O.)
|
|||
|
|
Hi, Vincent. I'm getting dressed.
|
|||
|
|
The door's open. Come inside and
|
|||
|
|
make yourself a drink.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FADE TO WHITE
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Music in.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FADE TO:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. MARCELLUS' HOUSE / LIVING ROOM – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent enters on the background.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Hello?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. MARCELLUS' HOUSE / DRESSING ROOM – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA, Marcellus' beautiful young wife. Video screens are in
|
|||
|
|
the background. Dusty Springfield is singing "SON OF A
|
|||
|
|
PREACHER MAN".
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia's mouth comes toward a microphone.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
(into microphone)
|
|||
|
|
Vincent.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. MARCELLUS' HOUSE / LIVING ROOM – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent turns.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
(over intercom)
|
|||
|
|
Vincent. I'm on the intercom.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. MARCELLUS' HOUSE / DRESSING ROOM – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
(into microphone)
|
|||
|
|
It's on the wall by the two African
|
|||
|
|
fellas.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. MARCELLUS' HOUSE / LIVING ROOM – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
(over intercom)
|
|||
|
|
To your right.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent walks.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
...warm. Warmer. Disco.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent finds the intercom on the wall.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Hello.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
(over intercom)
|
|||
|
|
Push the button if you want to talk.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
(into intercom)
|
|||
|
|
Hello.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. MARCELLUS' HOUSE / DRESSING ROOM – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
(into microphone)
|
|||
|
|
Go make yourself a drink., and I'll
|
|||
|
|
be down in two shakes of a lamb's
|
|||
|
|
tail.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. MARCELLUS' HOUSE / LIVING ROOM – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
(over intercom)
|
|||
|
|
The bar's by the fireplace.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
(into intercom)
|
|||
|
|
Okay.
|
|||
|
|
(licks lips)
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. MARCELLUS' HOUSE / DRESSING ROOM – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
A video screen with an image of Vincent, walking. The Dusty
|
|||
|
|
Springfield song continues.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia turns a knob which controls the movement of the video
|
|||
|
|
camera in Marcellus' living room.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. MARCELLUS' HOUSE / LIVING ROOM – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent picks up a bottle of scotch. He sniffs the bottle,
|
|||
|
|
and then pours it into a glass.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. MARCELLUS' HOUSE / DRESSING ROOM – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
A razor blade cuts cocaine on a mirror.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. MARCELLUS' HOUSE / LIVING ROOM – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent drinks a glass of scotch.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. MARCELLUS' HOUSE / DRESSING ROOM – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia sniffs the cocaine.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. MARCELLUS' HOUSE / LIVING ROOM – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent sips the drink and looks at a portrait of Mia on the
|
|||
|
|
wall.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia walks into the room, and takes the needle off a record.
|
|||
|
|
The Dusty Springfield song stops.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Let's go.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. JACKRABBIT SLIM'S – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
In the past six years, 50's diners have sprung up all over
|
|||
|
|
L.A., giving Thai restaurants a run for their money. They're
|
|||
|
|
all basically the same. Decor out of an "Archie" comic book,
|
|||
|
|
Golden Oldies constantly emanating from a bubbly Wurlitzer,
|
|||
|
|
saucy waitresses in bobby socks, menus with items like the
|
|||
|
|
Fats Domino Cheeseburger, or the Wolfman Jack Omelet, and
|
|||
|
|
over prices that pay for all this bullshit.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
But then there's JACKRABBIT SLIM'S, the big mama of 50's
|
|||
|
|
diners.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Either the best or the worst, depending on your point of
|
|||
|
|
view.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent's Malibu pulls up to the restaurant. A big sign with
|
|||
|
|
a neon figure of a cartoon surly cool cat jackrabbit in a
|
|||
|
|
red windbreaker towers over the establishment. Underneath
|
|||
|
|
the cartoon is the name: JACKRABBIT SLIM'S. Underneath that
|
|||
|
|
is the slogan: "Next best thing to a time machine."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
What the fuck is this place?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
This is Jackrabbit Slim's. An Elvis
|
|||
|
|
man should love it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Come on, Mia, let's go get a steak.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
You can get a steak here, daddy-o.
|
|||
|
|
Don't be a...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia draws a square with her hands. Dotted lines appear on
|
|||
|
|
the screen, forming a sqaure. The lines disperse.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
After you, kitty-cat.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. JACKRABBIT SLIM'S – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Compared to the interior, the exterior was that of a quaint
|
|||
|
|
English pub. Posters from 50's A.I.P. movies are all over
|
|||
|
|
the wall
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
("ROCK ALL NIGHT," "HIGH SCHOOL CONFIDENTIAL," "ATTACK OF
|
|||
|
|
THE CRAB MONSTER," and "MACHINE GUN KELLY"). The booths that
|
|||
|
|
the patrons sit in are made out of the cut up bodies of 50s
|
|||
|
|
cars.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
In the middle of the restaurant in a dance floor. A big sign
|
|||
|
|
on the wall states, "No shoes allowed." Some wannabe beboppers
|
|||
|
|
(actually Melrose-types), do the twist in their socks or
|
|||
|
|
barefeet.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The picture windows don't look out the street, but instead,
|
|||
|
|
B & W movies of 50's street scenes play behind them. The
|
|||
|
|
WAITRESSES and WAITERS are made up as replicas of 50's icons:
|
|||
|
|
MARILYN MONROE, ZORRO, JAMES DEAN, DONNA REED, MARTIN and
|
|||
|
|
LEWIS, and THE PHILIP MORRIS MIDGET, wait on tables wearing
|
|||
|
|
appropriate costumes.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent and Mia study the menu in a booth made out of a red
|
|||
|
|
'59 Edsel. BUDDY HOLLY (their waiter), comes over, sporting
|
|||
|
|
a big button on his chest that says: "Hi I'm Buddy, pleasing
|
|||
|
|
you please me."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUDDY
|
|||
|
|
Hi, I'm Buddy, what can I get'cha?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I'll have the Douglas Sirk steak.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUDDY
|
|||
|
|
How d'ya want it, burnt to a crisp,
|
|||
|
|
or bloody as hell?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Bloody as hell. And to drink, a
|
|||
|
|
vanilla coke.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUDDY
|
|||
|
|
How 'bout you, Peggy Sue?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
I'll have the Durwood Kirby burger –
|
|||
|
|
bloody – and a five-dollar shake.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUDDY
|
|||
|
|
How d'ya want that shake, Martin and
|
|||
|
|
Lewis, or Amos and Andy?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Martin and Lewis.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Did you just order a five-dollar
|
|||
|
|
shake?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Sure did.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
A shake? Milk and ice cream?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Uh-huh.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
It costs five dollars?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUDDY
|
|||
|
|
Yep.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
You don't put bourbon in it or
|
|||
|
|
anything?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUDDY
|
|||
|
|
Nope.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Just checking.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Buddy exits.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent takes a look around the place. The YUPPIES are
|
|||
|
|
dancing, the DINERS are biting into big, juicy hamburgers,
|
|||
|
|
and the icons are playing their parts. Marilyn is squealing,
|
|||
|
|
The Midget is paging Philip Morris, Donna Reed is making her
|
|||
|
|
customers drink their milk, and Dean and Jerry are acting a
|
|||
|
|
fool.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Whaddya think?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
It's like a wax museum with a pulse
|
|||
|
|
rate.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent takes out his pouch of tobacco and begins rolling
|
|||
|
|
himself a smoke.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
After a second of watching him –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
What are you doing?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Rollin' a smoke.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Here?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
It's just tobacco.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Oh. Well in that case, will you roll
|
|||
|
|
me one, cowboy?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
As he finishes licking it –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
You can have this one, cowgirl.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He hands her the rolled smoke. She takes it, putting it to
|
|||
|
|
her lips. Out of nowhere appears a Zippo lighter in Vincent's
|
|||
|
|
hand. He lights it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Thanks.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Think nothing of it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He begins rolling one for himself.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
As this time, the SOUND of a subway car fills the diner,
|
|||
|
|
making everything SHAKE and RATTLE. Marilyn Monroe runs to a
|
|||
|
|
square vent in the floor. An imaginary subway train BLOWS
|
|||
|
|
the skirt of her white dress around her ears as she lets out
|
|||
|
|
a squeal. The entire restaurant applauds.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Back to Mia and Vincent.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Marsellus said you just got back
|
|||
|
|
from Amsterdam.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Sure did. I heard you did a pilot.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
That was my fifteen minutes.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
What was it?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
It was show about a team of female
|
|||
|
|
secret agents called "Fox Force Five."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
What?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
"Fox Force Five." Fox, as in we're a
|
|||
|
|
bunch of foxy chicks. Force, as in
|
|||
|
|
we're a force to be reckoned with.
|
|||
|
|
Five, as in there's one... two ...
|
|||
|
|
three... four... five of us. There
|
|||
|
|
was a blonde one, Sommerset O'Neal
|
|||
|
|
from that show "Baton Rouge," she
|
|||
|
|
was the leader. A Japanese one, a
|
|||
|
|
black one, a French one and a brunette
|
|||
|
|
one, me. We all had special skills.
|
|||
|
|
Sommerset had a photographic memory,
|
|||
|
|
the Japanese fox was a kung fu master,
|
|||
|
|
the black girl was a demolition
|
|||
|
|
expert, the French fox' specialty
|
|||
|
|
was sex...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
What was your specialty?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Knives. The character I played, Raven
|
|||
|
|
McCoy, her background was she was
|
|||
|
|
raised by circus performers. So she
|
|||
|
|
grew up doing a knife act. According
|
|||
|
|
to the show, she was the deadliest
|
|||
|
|
woman in the world with a knife. But
|
|||
|
|
because she grew up in a circus, she
|
|||
|
|
was also something of an acrobat.
|
|||
|
|
She could do illusions, she was a
|
|||
|
|
trapeze artist – when you're keeping
|
|||
|
|
the world safe from evil, you never
|
|||
|
|
know when being a trapeze artist's
|
|||
|
|
gonna come in handy. And she knew a
|
|||
|
|
zillion old jokes her grandfather,
|
|||
|
|
an old vaudevillian, taught her. If
|
|||
|
|
we woulda got picked up, they woulda
|
|||
|
|
worked in a gimmick where every
|
|||
|
|
episode I woulda told and ol joke.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Do you remember any of the jokes?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Well I only got the chance to say
|
|||
|
|
one, 'cause we only did one show.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Tell me.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
No. It's really corny.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
C'mon, don't be that way.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
No. You won't like it and I'll be
|
|||
|
|
embarrassed.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
You told it in front of fifty million
|
|||
|
|
people and you can't tell it to me?
|
|||
|
|
I promise I won't laugh.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
(laughing)
|
|||
|
|
That's what I'm afraid of.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
That's not what I meant and you know
|
|||
|
|
it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
You're quite the silver tongue devil,
|
|||
|
|
aren't you?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I meant I wouldn't laugh at you.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
That's not what you said Vince. Well
|
|||
|
|
now I'm definitely not gonna tell
|
|||
|
|
ya, 'cause it's been built up too
|
|||
|
|
much.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
What a gyp.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Buddy comes back with the drinks. Mia wraps her lips around
|
|||
|
|
the straw of her shake.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Yummy!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Can I have a sip of that? I'd like
|
|||
|
|
to know what a five-dollar shake
|
|||
|
|
tastes like.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Be my guest.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She slides the shake over to him.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
You can use my straw, I don't have
|
|||
|
|
kooties.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent smiles.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Yeah, but maybe I do.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Kooties I can handle.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He takes a sip.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Goddamn! That's a pretty fuckin'
|
|||
|
|
good milk shake.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Told ya.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I don't know if it's worth five
|
|||
|
|
dollars, but it's pretty fuckin'
|
|||
|
|
good.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He slides the shake back.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Then the first of an uncomfortable silence happens.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Don't you hate that?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
What?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Uncomfortable silences. Why do we
|
|||
|
|
feel it's necessary to yak about
|
|||
|
|
bullshit in order to be comfortable?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I don't know.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
That's when you know you found
|
|||
|
|
somebody special. When you can just
|
|||
|
|
shit the fuck up for a minute, and
|
|||
|
|
comfortably share silence.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I don't think we're there yet. But
|
|||
|
|
don't feel bad, we just met each
|
|||
|
|
other.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Well I'll tell you what, I'll go to
|
|||
|
|
the bathroom and powder my nose,
|
|||
|
|
while you sit here and think of
|
|||
|
|
something to say.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I'll do that.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. JACKRABBIT SLIM'S (LADIES ROOM) – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia powders her nose by doing a big line of coke off the
|
|||
|
|
bathroom sink. Her head jerks up from the rush.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
(imitating Steppenwolf)
|
|||
|
|
I said goddamn!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. JACKRABBIT SLIM'S (DINING AREA) – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent digs into his Douglas Sirk steak. As he chews, his
|
|||
|
|
eyes scan the Hellsapopinish restaurant.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia comes back to the table.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Don't you love it when you go to the
|
|||
|
|
bathroom and you come back to find
|
|||
|
|
your food waiting for you?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
We're lucky we got it at all. Buddy
|
|||
|
|
Holly doesn't seem to be much of a
|
|||
|
|
waiter. We shoulda sat in Marilyn
|
|||
|
|
Monroe's section.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Which one, there's two Marilyn
|
|||
|
|
Monroes.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
No there's not.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Pointing at Marilyn in the white dress serving a table.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
That's Marilyn Monroe...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Then, pointing at a BLONDE WAITRESS in a tight sweater and
|
|||
|
|
capri pants, taking an order from a bunch of FILM GEEKS –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
... and that's Mamie Van Doren. I
|
|||
|
|
don't see Jayne Mansfield, so it
|
|||
|
|
must be her night off.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Pretty smart.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I have moments.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Did ya think of something to say?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Actually, there's something I've
|
|||
|
|
wanted to ask you about, but you
|
|||
|
|
seem like a nice person, and I didn't
|
|||
|
|
want to offend you.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Oooohhhh, this doesn't sound like
|
|||
|
|
mindless, boring, getting-to-know-
|
|||
|
|
you chit-chat. This sounds like you
|
|||
|
|
actually have something to say.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Only if you promise not to get
|
|||
|
|
offended.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
You can't promise something like
|
|||
|
|
that. I have no idea what you're
|
|||
|
|
gonna ask. You could ask me what
|
|||
|
|
you're gonna ask me, and my natural
|
|||
|
|
response could be to be offended.
|
|||
|
|
Then, through no fault of my own, I
|
|||
|
|
woulda broken my promise.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Then let's just forget it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
That is an impossibility. Trying to
|
|||
|
|
forget anything as intriguing as
|
|||
|
|
this would be an exercise in futility.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Is that a fact?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia nods her head: "Yes."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Besides, it's more exciting when you
|
|||
|
|
don't have permission.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
What do you think about what happened
|
|||
|
|
to Antwan?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Who's Antwan?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Tony Rocky Horror.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
He fell out of a window.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
That's one way to say it. Another
|
|||
|
|
way is, he was thrown out. Another
|
|||
|
|
was is, he was thrown out by
|
|||
|
|
Marsellus. And even another way is,
|
|||
|
|
he was thrown out of a window by
|
|||
|
|
Marsellus because of you.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Is that a fact?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
No it's not, it's just what I heard.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Who told you this?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
They.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia and Vincent smile.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
They talk a lot, don't they?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
They certainly do.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Well don't by shy Vincent, what
|
|||
|
|
exactly did they say?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent is slow to answer.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Let me help you Bashful, did it
|
|||
|
|
involve the F-word?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
No. They just said Rocky Horror gave
|
|||
|
|
you a foot massage.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
And...?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
No and, that's it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
You heard Marsellus threw Rocky Horror
|
|||
|
|
out of a four-story window because
|
|||
|
|
he massaged my feet?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Yeah.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
And you believed that?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
At the time I was told, it seemed
|
|||
|
|
reasonable.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Marsellus throwing Tony out of a
|
|||
|
|
four story window for giving me a
|
|||
|
|
foot massage seemed reasonable?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
No, it seemed excessive. But that
|
|||
|
|
doesn't mean it didn't happen. I
|
|||
|
|
heard Marsellus is very protective
|
|||
|
|
of you.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
A husband being protective of his
|
|||
|
|
wife is one thing. A husband almost
|
|||
|
|
killing another man for touching his
|
|||
|
|
wife's feet is something else.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
But did it happen?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
The only thing Antwan ever touched
|
|||
|
|
of mine was my hand, when he shook
|
|||
|
|
it. I met Anwan once – at my wedding
|
|||
|
|
– then never again. The truth is,
|
|||
|
|
nobody knows why Marsellus tossed
|
|||
|
|
Tony Rocky Horror out of that window
|
|||
|
|
except Marsellus and Tony Rocky
|
|||
|
|
Horror. But when you scamps get
|
|||
|
|
together, you're worse than a sewing
|
|||
|
|
circle.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CUT TO:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ED SULLIVAN AND MARILYN MONROE STAND ON STAGE
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ED SULLIVAN
|
|||
|
|
(into microphone)
|
|||
|
|
Ladies and gentlemen, now the moment
|
|||
|
|
you've all been waiting for, the
|
|||
|
|
worldfamous Jackrabbit Slim's twist
|
|||
|
|
contest.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Patrons cheer.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Ed Sullivan is with Marilyn Monroe, who holds a trophy.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ED SULLIVAN
|
|||
|
|
...One lucky couple will win this
|
|||
|
|
handsome trophy that Marilyn here is
|
|||
|
|
holding.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Marilyn holds the trophy.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ED SULLIVAN
|
|||
|
|
...Now, who will be our first
|
|||
|
|
contestants?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia holds her hand.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Right here.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent reacts.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
I wanna dance.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
No, no, no no, no, no, no, no.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
(overlapping)
|
|||
|
|
No, no, no, no, no, no, no. I do
|
|||
|
|
believe Marsellus, my husband, your
|
|||
|
|
boss, told you to take me out and do
|
|||
|
|
whatever I wanted, Now, I want to
|
|||
|
|
dance. I want to win. I want that
|
|||
|
|
trophy.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
(sighs)
|
|||
|
|
All right.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
So, dance good.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
All right, you asked for it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent and Mia walk onto the dance floor, toward Ed Sullivan.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ED SULLIVAN
|
|||
|
|
(into microphone)
|
|||
|
|
Let's hear it for our first
|
|||
|
|
contestants.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Patrons cheer.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent and Mia walk up to the microphone.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ED SULLIVAN
|
|||
|
|
Now let's meet our first contestants
|
|||
|
|
here this evening. Young lady, what
|
|||
|
|
is your name?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
(into microphone)
|
|||
|
|
Missus Mia Wallace.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ED SULLIVAN
|
|||
|
|
(into microphone)
|
|||
|
|
And, uh, how 'bout your fella here?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
(into microphone)
|
|||
|
|
Vincent Vega.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ED SULLIVAN
|
|||
|
|
(into microphone)
|
|||
|
|
All right, let's see what you can
|
|||
|
|
do. Take it away!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia and Vincent dance to Chuck Berry's "YOU NEVER CAN TELL".
|
|||
|
|
They make hand movements as they dance.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. MARSELLUS WALLACE'S HOME – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The front door FLINGS open, and Mia and Vincent dance tango-
|
|||
|
|
style into the house, singing a cappella the song from the
|
|||
|
|
previous scene. They finish their little dance, laughing.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Then...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The two just stand face to face looking at each other.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Was than an uncomfortable silence?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
I don't know what that was.
|
|||
|
|
(pause)
|
|||
|
|
Music and drinks!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia moves away to attend to both. Vincent hangs up his
|
|||
|
|
overcoat on a big bronze coat rack in the alcove.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I'm gonna take a piss.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
That was a little bit more information
|
|||
|
|
than I needed to know, but go right
|
|||
|
|
ahead.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent shuffles off to the john.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia moves to her CD player, thumbs through a stack of CDs
|
|||
|
|
and selects one: k.d. lang. The speakers BLAST OUT a high
|
|||
|
|
energy country number, which Mia plays air-guitar to. She
|
|||
|
|
dances her way around the room and finds herself by Vincent's
|
|||
|
|
overcoat hanging on the rack. She touches its sleeve. It
|
|||
|
|
feels good.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Her hand hoes in its pocket and pulls out his tobacco pouch.
|
|||
|
|
Like a little girl playing cowboy, she spreads the tobacco
|
|||
|
|
on some rolling paper. Imitating what he did earlier, licks
|
|||
|
|
the paper and rolls it into a pretty good cigarette. Maybe a
|
|||
|
|
little too fat, but not bad for a first try. Mia thinks so
|
|||
|
|
anyway. Her hand reaches back in the pocket and pulls out
|
|||
|
|
his Zippo lighter. She SLAPS the lighter against her leg,
|
|||
|
|
trying to light it fancy-style like Vince did. What do you
|
|||
|
|
know, she did it! Mia's one happy clam. She triumphantly
|
|||
|
|
brings the fat flame up to her fat smoke, lighting it up,
|
|||
|
|
then LOUDLY SNAPS the Zippo closed.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Mia-made cigarette is brought up to her lips, and she
|
|||
|
|
takes a long, cool drag. Her hand slides the Zippo back in
|
|||
|
|
the overcoat pocket. But wait, her fingers touch something
|
|||
|
|
else. Those fingers bring out a plastic bag with white powder
|
|||
|
|
inside, the madman that Vincent bought earlier from Lance.
|
|||
|
|
Wearing a big smile, Mia brings the bag of heroin up to her
|
|||
|
|
face.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
(like you would say
|
|||
|
|
Bingo!)
|
|||
|
|
Disco! Vince, you little cola nut,
|
|||
|
|
you've been holding out on me.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CUT TO:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. BATHROOM (MARSELLUS WALLACE'S HOUSE) – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent stands at the sink, washing his hands, talking to
|
|||
|
|
himself in the mirror.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
One drink and leave. Don't be rude,
|
|||
|
|
but drink your drink quickly, say
|
|||
|
|
goodbye, walk out the door, get in
|
|||
|
|
your car, and go down the road.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LIVING ROOM
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia has the unbeknownst-to-her heroin cut up into big lines
|
|||
|
|
on her glass top coffee table. Taking her trusty hundred
|
|||
|
|
dollar bill like a human Dust-Buster, she quickly snorts the
|
|||
|
|
fat line.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CLOSEUP – MIA
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Her head JERKS back. Her hands go to her nose (which feels
|
|||
|
|
like it's on fucking fire), something is terribly wrong.
|
|||
|
|
Then... the rush hits...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BATHROOM
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent dries his hands on a towel while he continues his
|
|||
|
|
dialogue with the mirror.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
...It's a moral test of yourself,
|
|||
|
|
whether or not you can maintain
|
|||
|
|
loyalty. Because when people are
|
|||
|
|
loyal to each other, that's very
|
|||
|
|
meaningful.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LIVING ROOM
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia is on all fours trying to crawl to the bathroom, but
|
|||
|
|
it's like she's trying to crawl with the bones removed from
|
|||
|
|
her knees. Blood begins to drip from Mia's nose. Then her
|
|||
|
|
stomach gets into the act and she VOMITS.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BATHROOM
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
gggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
|
|||
|
|
gggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg
|
|||
|
|
Vince continues.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
So you're gonna go out there, drink
|
|||
|
|
your drink, say "Goodnight, I've had
|
|||
|
|
a very lovely evening," go home, and
|
|||
|
|
jack off. And that's all you're
|
|||
|
|
gonna do.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Now that he's given himself a little pep talk, Vincent's
|
|||
|
|
ready for whatever's waiting for him on the other side of
|
|||
|
|
that door. So he goes through it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LIVING ROOM
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
We follow behind Vincent as he walks from the bathroom to
|
|||
|
|
the living room, where he finds Mia lying on the floor like
|
|||
|
|
a rag doll. She's twisted on her back. Blood and puke are
|
|||
|
|
down her front. And her face is contorted. Not out of the
|
|||
|
|
tightness of pain, but just the opposite, the muscles in her
|
|||
|
|
face are so relaxed, she lies still with her mouth wide open.
|
|||
|
|
Slack-jawed.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Jesus Christ!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent moves like greased lightning to Mia's fallen body.
|
|||
|
|
Bending down where she lays, he puts his fingers on her neck
|
|||
|
|
to check her pulse. She slightly stirs.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia is aware of Vincent over her, speaking to her.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
(sounding weird)
|
|||
|
|
Mia! MIA! What the hell happened?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
But she's unable to communicate Mia makes a few lost mumbles,
|
|||
|
|
but they're not distinctive enough to be called words.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent props her eyelids open and sees the story.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
(to himself)
|
|||
|
|
I'll be a son-of-a-bitch.
|
|||
|
|
(to Mia)
|
|||
|
|
Mia! MIA! What did you take? Answer
|
|||
|
|
me honey, what did you take?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia is incapable of answering. He SLAPS her face hard.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent SPRINGS up and RUNS to his overcoat, hanging on the
|
|||
|
|
rack.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He goes through the pockets FRANTICALLY. It's gone. Vincent
|
|||
|
|
makes a beeline to Mia. We follow.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
(yelling to Mia)
|
|||
|
|
Okay honey, we're getting you on
|
|||
|
|
your feet.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He reaches her and hoists the dead weight up in his arms.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
We're on our feet now, and now we're
|
|||
|
|
gonna talk out to the car. Here we
|
|||
|
|
go, watch us walk.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
We follow behind as he hurriedly walks the practically-
|
|||
|
|
unconscious Mia through the house and out the front door.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. VINCENT'S HOT ROD (MOVING) – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INSERT SPEEDOMETER: red needle on a hundred.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent driving like a madman in a town without traffic laws,
|
|||
|
|
speeds the car into turns and up and over hills.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT.VINCENT'S HOT ROD (MOVING) – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent, one hand firmly on the wheel, the other shifting
|
|||
|
|
like Robocop, both eyes staring straight ahead except when
|
|||
|
|
he glances over at Mia.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia, slack-jawed expression, mouth gaping, posture of a bag
|
|||
|
|
of water.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent takes a cellular phone out of his pocket. He punches
|
|||
|
|
a number.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. LANCE'S HOUSE – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
At this late hour, LANCE has transformed from a bon vivant
|
|||
|
|
drug dealer to a bathrobe creature.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He sits in a big comfy chair, ratty blue gym pants, a worn-
|
|||
|
|
out but comfortable tee-shirt that has, written on it, "TAFT,
|
|||
|
|
CALIFORNIA", and a moth-ridden terry cloth robe. In his hand
|
|||
|
|
is a bowl of Cap'n Crunch with Crunch Berries. In front of
|
|||
|
|
him on the coffee table is a jug of milk, the box the Cap'n
|
|||
|
|
Crunch with Crunch Berries came out of, and a hash pipe in
|
|||
|
|
an ashtray.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
On the big-screen TV in front of the table is the Three
|
|||
|
|
Stooges, and they're getting married.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PREACHER (EMIL SIMKUS)
|
|||
|
|
(on TV)
|
|||
|
|
Hold hands, you love birds.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The phone RINGS.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Lance puts down his cereal and makes his way to the phone.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
It RINGS again.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jody, his wife, CALLS from the bedroom, obviously woken up.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JODY (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
Lance! The phone's ringing!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
(calling back)
|
|||
|
|
I can hear it!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JODY (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
I thought you told those fuckin'
|
|||
|
|
assholes never to call this late!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
(by the phone)
|
|||
|
|
I told 'em and that's what I'm gonna
|
|||
|
|
tell this fuckin' asshole right now!
|
|||
|
|
(he answers the phone)
|
|||
|
|
Hello, do you know how late it is?
|
|||
|
|
You're not supposed to be callin' me
|
|||
|
|
this fuckin' late.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BACK TO:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT IN THE MALIBU
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent is still driving like a stripe-assed ape, clutching
|
|||
|
|
the phone to his ear. WE CUT BACK AND FORTH during the
|
|||
|
|
conversation.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Lance, this is Vincent, I'm in big
|
|||
|
|
fuckin' trouble man, I'm on my way
|
|||
|
|
to your place.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
Whoa, hold you horses man, what's
|
|||
|
|
the problem?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
You still got an adrenaline shot?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
(dawning on him)
|
|||
|
|
Maybe.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I need it man, I got a chick she's
|
|||
|
|
fuckin' Doing on me.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
Don't bring her here! I'm not even
|
|||
|
|
fuckin' joking with you, don't you
|
|||
|
|
be bringing some fucked up pooh-butt
|
|||
|
|
to my house!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
No choice.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
She's ODin'?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Yeah. She's dyin'.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
Then bite the fuckin' bullet, take
|
|||
|
|
'er to a hospital and call a lawyer!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Negative.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
She ain't my fuckin' problem, you
|
|||
|
|
fucked her up, you deal with it –
|
|||
|
|
are you talkin' to me on a cellular
|
|||
|
|
phone?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Sorry.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
I don't know you, who is this, don't
|
|||
|
|
come here, I'm hangin' up.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Too late, I'm already here.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
At that moment inside Lance's house, WE HEAR VINCENT's Malibu
|
|||
|
|
coming up the street. Lance hangs up the phone, goes to his
|
|||
|
|
curtains and YANKS the cord. The curtains open with a WHOOSH
|
|||
|
|
in time to see Vincent's Malibu DRIVING UP on his front lawn
|
|||
|
|
and CRASHING into his house. The window Lance is looking out
|
|||
|
|
of SHATTERS from the impact.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JODY (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
What the hell was that?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Lance CHARGES from the window, out the door to his front
|
|||
|
|
lawn.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. LANCE'S HOUSE – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent is already out of the car, working on getting Mia
|
|||
|
|
out.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
Have you lost your mind?! You crashed
|
|||
|
|
your car in my fuckin' house! You
|
|||
|
|
talk about drug shit on a cellular
|
|||
|
|
fuckin' phone –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
If you're through havin' your little
|
|||
|
|
hissy fit, this chick is dyin', get
|
|||
|
|
your needle and git it now!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
Are you deaf? You're not bringin'
|
|||
|
|
that fucked up bitch in my house!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
This fucked up bitch is Marsellus
|
|||
|
|
Wallace's wife. Now if she fuckin'
|
|||
|
|
croaks on me, I'm a grease spot. But
|
|||
|
|
before he turns me into a bar soap,
|
|||
|
|
I'm gonna be forced to tell 'im about
|
|||
|
|
how you coulda saved her life, but
|
|||
|
|
instead you let her die on your front
|
|||
|
|
lawn.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. LANCE'S HOUSE – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
WE START in Lance's and Jody's bedroom.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jody, in bed, throws off the covers and stands up. She's
|
|||
|
|
wearing a long tee-shirt with a picture of Fred Flintstone
|
|||
|
|
on it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
We follow HANDHELD behind her as she opens the door, walking
|
|||
|
|
through the hall into the living room.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JODY
|
|||
|
|
It's only one-thirty in the goddamn
|
|||
|
|
mornin'! What the fuck's goin' on
|
|||
|
|
out here?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
As she walks in the living room, she sees Vincent and Lance
|
|||
|
|
standing over Mia, who's lying on the floor in the middle of
|
|||
|
|
the room.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
From here on in, everything in this scene is frantic, like a
|
|||
|
|
DOCUMENTARY in an emergency ward, with the big difference
|
|||
|
|
here being nobody knows what the fuck they're doing.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JODY
|
|||
|
|
Who's she?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Lance looks up at Jody.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
Get that black box in the bedroom I
|
|||
|
|
have with the adrenaline shot.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JODY
|
|||
|
|
What's wrong with her?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
She's ODing on us.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JODY
|
|||
|
|
Well get her the hell outta here!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE AND VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
(in stereo)
|
|||
|
|
Get the fuckin' shot!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JODY
|
|||
|
|
Don't yell and me!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She angrily turns and disappears into the bedroom looking
|
|||
|
|
for the shot.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
WE MOVE into the room with the two men.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
(to Lance)
|
|||
|
|
You two are a match made in heaven.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
Look, just keep talkin' to her, okay?
|
|||
|
|
While she's gettin' the shot, I gotta
|
|||
|
|
get a medical book.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
What do you need a medical book for?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
To tell me how to do it. I've never
|
|||
|
|
given an adrenaline shot before.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
You've had that thing for six years
|
|||
|
|
and you never used it?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
I never had to use it. I don't go
|
|||
|
|
joypoppin' with bubble-gummers, all
|
|||
|
|
of my friends can handle their highs!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Well then get it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
I am, if you'll let me.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I'm not fuckin' stoppin' you.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
Stop talkin' to me, and start talkin'
|
|||
|
|
to her.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
WE FOLLOW Lance as he runs out of the living room into a...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. SPARE ROOM
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
With a bunch of junk in it. He frantically starts scanning
|
|||
|
|
the junk for the book he's looking for, repeating the words,
|
|||
|
|
"Come on," endlessly.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
From OFF SCREEN we hear:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
Hurry up man! We're losin' her!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
(calling back)
|
|||
|
|
I'm looking as fast as I can!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Lance continues his frenzied search.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
WE HEAR Jody in the living room now as she talks to Vincent.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JODY (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
What's he lookin' for?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
I dunno, some medical book.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jody calls to LANCE.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JODY (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
What are you lookin' for?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
My black medical book!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
As he continues searching, flipping and knocking over shit,
|
|||
|
|
Jody appears in the doorway.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JODY
|
|||
|
|
Whata're you looking for?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
My black fuckin' medical book. It's
|
|||
|
|
like a text book they give to nurses.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JODY
|
|||
|
|
I never saw a medical book.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
Trust me, I have one.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JODY
|
|||
|
|
Well if it's that important, why
|
|||
|
|
didn't you keep it with the shot?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Lance spins toward her.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
I don't know! Stop bothering me!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JODY
|
|||
|
|
While you're lookin' for it, that
|
|||
|
|
girl's gonna die on our carpet. You're
|
|||
|
|
never gonna find it in all this shit.
|
|||
|
|
For six months now, I've been telling
|
|||
|
|
you to clean this room –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
– get your ass in here, fuck the
|
|||
|
|
book!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Lance angrily knocks over a pile of shit and leaves the SHOT
|
|||
|
|
heading for the living room.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LIVING ROOM
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent is bent over Mia, talking softly to her, when Lance
|
|||
|
|
reenters the room.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Quit fuckin' around man and give her
|
|||
|
|
the shot!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Lance bends down by the black case brought in by Jody. He
|
|||
|
|
opens it and begins preparing the needle for injection.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
While I'm doing this, take her shirt
|
|||
|
|
off and find her heart.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vince rips her blouse open.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jody stumbles back in the room, hanging back from the action.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Does it have to be exact?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
Yeah, it has to be exact! I'm giving
|
|||
|
|
her an injection in the heart, so I
|
|||
|
|
gotta exactly hit her in the heart.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Well, I don't know exactly where her
|
|||
|
|
heart is, I think it's here.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vince points to Mia's right breast. Lance glances over and
|
|||
|
|
nods.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
That's it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
As Lance readies the injection, Vincent looks up at Jody.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I need a big fat magic marker, got
|
|||
|
|
one?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JODY
|
|||
|
|
What?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I need a big fat magic marker, any
|
|||
|
|
felt pen'll do, but a magic marker
|
|||
|
|
would be great.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JODY
|
|||
|
|
Hold on.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jody runs to the desk, opens the top drawer and, in her
|
|||
|
|
enthusiasm, she pulls the drawer out of the desk, the contents
|
|||
|
|
of which (bills, papers, pens) spill to the floor.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The injection is ready. Lance hands Vincent the needle.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
It's ready, I'll tell you what to
|
|||
|
|
do.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
You're gonna give her the shot.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
No, you're gonna give her the shot.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I've never does this before.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
I've never done this before either,
|
|||
|
|
and I ain't starting now. You brought
|
|||
|
|
'er here, that means you give her
|
|||
|
|
the shot. The day I bring an ODing
|
|||
|
|
bitch to your place, then I gotta
|
|||
|
|
give her the shot.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jody hurriedly joins them in the huddle, a big fat red magic
|
|||
|
|
marker in her hand.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JODY
|
|||
|
|
Got it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent grabs the magic marker out of Jody's hand and makes
|
|||
|
|
a big red dot on Mia's body where her heart is.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Okay, what do I do?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
Well, you're giving her an injection
|
|||
|
|
of adrenaline 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.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Lance demonstrates a stabbing motion, which looks like "The
|
|||
|
|
Shape" killing its victims in "HALLOWEEN".
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I gotta stab her?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
If you want the needle to pierce
|
|||
|
|
through to her heart, you gotta stab
|
|||
|
|
her hard.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Then once you do, push down on the plunger.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
What happens after that?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
I'm curious about that myself.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
This ain't a fuckin' joke man!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
She's supposed to come out of it
|
|||
|
|
like –
|
|||
|
|
(snaps his fingers)
|
|||
|
|
– that.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent lifts the needle up above his head in a stabbing
|
|||
|
|
motion.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He looks down on Mia.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia is fading fast. Soon nothing will help her.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent's eyes narrow, ready to do this.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Count to three.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Lance, on this knees right beside Vincent, does not know
|
|||
|
|
what to expect.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
One...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
RED DOT on Mia's body.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Needle raised ready to strike.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
...two...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jody's face is alive with anticipation.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
NEEDLE in that air, poised like a rattler ready to strike.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
...three!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The needle leaves frame, THRUSTING down hard.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent brings the needle down hard, STABBING Mia in the
|
|||
|
|
chest.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia's head is JOLTED from the impact.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The syringe plunger is pushed down, PUMPING the adrenaline
|
|||
|
|
out through the needle.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia's eyes POP WIDE OPEN and she lets out a HELLISH cry of
|
|||
|
|
the banshee. She BOLTS UP in a sitting position, needle stuck
|
|||
|
|
in her chest – SCREAMING.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent, Lance and Jody, who were in sitting positions in
|
|||
|
|
front of Mia, JUMP BACK, scared to death.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia's scream runs out. She slowly starts taking breaths of
|
|||
|
|
air.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The other three, now scooted halfway across the room, shaken
|
|||
|
|
to their bones, look to see if she's alright.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LANCE
|
|||
|
|
If you're okay, say something.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia, still breathing, not looking up at them, says in a
|
|||
|
|
relatively normal voice.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Something.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent and Lance collapse on their backs, exhausted and
|
|||
|
|
shaking from how close to death Mia came.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JODY
|
|||
|
|
Anybody want a beer?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CUT TO:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccc
|
|||
|
|
ccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccc
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. VINCENT'S MALIBU (MOVING) – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent is behind the wheel driving Mia home. No one says
|
|||
|
|
anything, both are still too shaken.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. FRONT OF MARSELLUS WALLACE'S HOUSE – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Malibu pulls up to the front. Mia gets out without saying
|
|||
|
|
a word (still in a daze) and begins walking down the walkway
|
|||
|
|
toward her front door.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
Mia!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She turns around.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent's out of the car, standing on the walkway, a big
|
|||
|
|
distance between the two.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
What are your thoughts on how to
|
|||
|
|
handle this?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
What's yours?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Well I'm of the opinion that Marsellus
|
|||
|
|
can live his whole live and never
|
|||
|
|
ever hear of this incident.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia smiles.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Don't worry about it. If Marsellus
|
|||
|
|
ever heard of this, I'd be in as
|
|||
|
|
much trouble as you.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I seriously doubt that.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
If you can keep a secret, so can I.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Let's shake on it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The two walk toward each other, holding out their hands to
|
|||
|
|
shake and shake they do.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Mum's the word.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia lets go of Vincent's hand and silently makes the see-no-
|
|||
|
|
evil, hear-no-evil, and speak-no-evil sign with her hands.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent smiles.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
If you'll excuse me, I gotta go home
|
|||
|
|
and have a heart attack.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia giggles.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent turns to leave.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
You still wanna hear my "FOX FORCE
|
|||
|
|
FIVE" joke?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent turns around.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Sure, but I think I'm still a little
|
|||
|
|
too petrified to laugh.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Uh-huh. You won't laugh because it's
|
|||
|
|
not funny. But if you still wanna
|
|||
|
|
hear it, I'll tell it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I can't wait.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Three tomatoes are walking down the
|
|||
|
|
street, a poppa tomato, a momma
|
|||
|
|
tomato, and a little baby tomato.
|
|||
|
|
The baby tomato is lagging behind
|
|||
|
|
the poppa and momma tomato. The poppa
|
|||
|
|
tomato gets mad, goes over to the
|
|||
|
|
momma tomato and stamps on him –
|
|||
|
|
(stamps on the ground)
|
|||
|
|
– and says: catch up.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
They both smile, but neither laugh.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
See ya 'round, Vince.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia turns and walks inside her house.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CLOSEUP – VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
After Mia walks inside. Vincent continues to look at where
|
|||
|
|
she was. He brings his hands to his lips and blows her a
|
|||
|
|
kiss. Then exits FRAME leaving it empty. WE HEAR his Malibu
|
|||
|
|
START UP and DRIVE AWAY.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FADE TO BLACK
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FADE UP On the cartoon "SPEED RACER." Speed is giving a
|
|||
|
|
detailed description of all the features on his race car
|
|||
|
|
"The Mac-5," which he does at the beginning of every episode.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
OFF SCREEN we hear a WOMAN'S VOICE... .
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
WOMAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
Butch.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
DISSOLVE TO:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH'S POV
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
We're in the living room of a modest two bedroom house in
|
|||
|
|
Alhambra, California, in the year 1972. BUTCH'S MOTHER, 35ish,
|
|||
|
|
stands in the doorway leading into the living room. Next to
|
|||
|
|
her is a man dressed in the uniform of an American Air Force
|
|||
|
|
officer. The CAMERA is the perspective of a five-year old
|
|||
|
|
boy.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MOTHER
|
|||
|
|
Butch, stop watching TV a second. We
|
|||
|
|
got a special visitor. Now do you
|
|||
|
|
remember when I told you your daddy
|
|||
|
|
dies in a P.O.W. camp?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
Uh-huh.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MOTHER
|
|||
|
|
Well this here is Capt. Koons. He
|
|||
|
|
was in the P.O.W. camp with Daddy.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CAPT. KOONS steps inside the room toward the little boy and
|
|||
|
|
bends down on one knee to bring him even with the boy's
|
|||
|
|
eyeline. When Koons speaks, he speaks with a slight Texas
|
|||
|
|
accent.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CAPT. KOONS
|
|||
|
|
Hello, little man. Boy I sure heard
|
|||
|
|
a bunch about you. See, I was a good
|
|||
|
|
friend of your Daddy's. We were in
|
|||
|
|
that Hanoi pit of hell over five
|
|||
|
|
years together. Hopefully, you'll
|
|||
|
|
never have to experience this
|
|||
|
|
yourself, but when two men are in a
|
|||
|
|
situation like me and your Daddy
|
|||
|
|
were, for as long as we were, you
|
|||
|
|
take on certain responsibilities of
|
|||
|
|
the other. If it had been me who had
|
|||
|
|
not made it, Major Coolidge would be
|
|||
|
|
talkin' right now to my son Jim. But
|
|||
|
|
the way it worked out is I'm talkin'
|
|||
|
|
to you, Butch. I got somethin' for
|
|||
|
|
ya.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Captain pulls a gold wrist watch out of his pocket.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CAPT. KOONS
|
|||
|
|
This watch I got here was first
|
|||
|
|
purchased by your great-granddaddy.
|
|||
|
|
It was bought during the First World
|
|||
|
|
War in a little general store in
|
|||
|
|
Knoxville, Tennessee. It was bought
|
|||
|
|
by private Doughboy Ernie Coolidge
|
|||
|
|
the day he set sail for Paris. It
|
|||
|
|
was your great-granddaddy's war watch,
|
|||
|
|
made by the first company to ever
|
|||
|
|
make wrist watches. You see, up until
|
|||
|
|
then, people just carried pocket
|
|||
|
|
watches. Your great-granddaddy wore
|
|||
|
|
that watch every day he was in the
|
|||
|
|
war. Then when he had done his duty,
|
|||
|
|
he went home to your great-
|
|||
|
|
grandmother, took the watch off his
|
|||
|
|
wrist and put it in an ol' coffee
|
|||
|
|
can. And in that can it stayed 'til
|
|||
|
|
your grandfather Dane Coolidge was
|
|||
|
|
called upon by his country to go
|
|||
|
|
overseas and fight the Germans once
|
|||
|
|
again. This time they called it World
|
|||
|
|
War Two. Your great-granddaddy gave
|
|||
|
|
it to your granddad for good luck.
|
|||
|
|
Unfortunately, Dane's luck wasn't as
|
|||
|
|
good as his old man's. Your granddad
|
|||
|
|
was a Marine and he was killed with
|
|||
|
|
all the other Marines at the battle
|
|||
|
|
of Wake Island. Your granddad was
|
|||
|
|
facing death and he knew it. None of
|
|||
|
|
those boys had any illusions about
|
|||
|
|
ever leavin' that island alive. So
|
|||
|
|
three days before the Japanese took
|
|||
|
|
the island, your 22-year old
|
|||
|
|
grandfather asked a gunner on an Air
|
|||
|
|
Force transport named Winocki, a man
|
|||
|
|
he had never met before in his life,
|
|||
|
|
to deliver to his infant son, who he
|
|||
|
|
had never seen in the flesh, his
|
|||
|
|
gold watch. Three days later, your
|
|||
|
|
grandfather was dead. But Winocki
|
|||
|
|
kept his word. After the war was
|
|||
|
|
over, he paid a visit to your
|
|||
|
|
grandmother, delivering to your infant
|
|||
|
|
father, his Dad's gold watch. This
|
|||
|
|
watch. This watch was on your Daddy's
|
|||
|
|
wrist when he was shot down over
|
|||
|
|
Hanoi. He was captured and put in a
|
|||
|
|
Vietnamese prison camp. Now he knew
|
|||
|
|
if the gooks ever saw the watch it'd
|
|||
|
|
be confiscated. The way your Daddy
|
|||
|
|
looked at it, that watch was your
|
|||
|
|
birthright. And he'd be damned if
|
|||
|
|
and slopeheads were gonna put their
|
|||
|
|
greasy yella hands on his boy's
|
|||
|
|
birthright. So he hid it in the one
|
|||
|
|
place he knew he could hide somethin'.
|
|||
|
|
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 with uncomfortable hunk
|
|||
|
|
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.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Capt. Koons hands the watch to Butch. A little hand comes
|
|||
|
|
into FRAME to accept it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CUT TO:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. LOCKER ROOM – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The 27-year old Butch Coolidge is dressed in boxing regalia:
|
|||
|
|
trunks, shoes and gloves. He lies on a table catching a few
|
|||
|
|
zzzzzz's before his big fight. Almost as soon as WE CUT to
|
|||
|
|
him, he wakes up with a start. Shaken by the bizarre memory,
|
|||
|
|
he wipes his sweaty face with his boxing glove.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
His trainer KLONDIKE, an older fireplug, opens the door a
|
|||
|
|
little, sticking his head in the room. Pandemonium seems to
|
|||
|
|
be breaking out behind Klondike in the hallway.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
KLONDIKE
|
|||
|
|
It's time, Butch.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
I'm ready.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Klondike steps inside, closing the door on the WILD MOB
|
|||
|
|
outside.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He goes to the long yellow robe hanging on a hook. Butch
|
|||
|
|
hops off the table and, without a word, Klondike helps him
|
|||
|
|
on with the robe, which says on the back: "BATTLING BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
COOLIDGE".
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The two men head for the door. Klondike opens the door for
|
|||
|
|
Butch.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
As Butch steps into the hallway, the Crowd goes apeshit.
|
|||
|
|
Klondike closes the door behind him, leaving us in the quiet,
|
|||
|
|
empty locker room.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FADE TO BLACK
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
TITLE CARD:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"THE GOLD WATCH"
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
We hear over the black and white title:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
SPORTSCASTER #1 (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
– Well Dan, that had to be the
|
|||
|
|
bloodiest and, hands-down, the most
|
|||
|
|
brutal fight this city has ever seen.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The SOUND of chaos in the b.g.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FADE IN:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. ALLEY (RAINING) – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
A taxi is parked in a dark alley next to an auditorium. The
|
|||
|
|
sky is PISSIN' DOWN RAIN. WE SLOWLY DOLLY toward the parked
|
|||
|
|
car. The SOUND of the CAR RADIO can be heard coming from
|
|||
|
|
inside.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
SPORTSCASTER #1 (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
...Coolidge was out of there faster
|
|||
|
|
than I've ever seen a victorious
|
|||
|
|
boxer vacate the ring. Do you think
|
|||
|
|
he knew Willis was dead?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
SPORTSCASTER #2 (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
My guess would be yes, Richard. I
|
|||
|
|
could see from my position here, the
|
|||
|
|
frenzy in his eyes give way to the
|
|||
|
|
realization of what he was doing. I
|
|||
|
|
think any man would've left the ring
|
|||
|
|
that fast.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
DISSOLVE TO:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. TAXI (PARKED/RAINING) – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Inside the taxi, behind the wheel, is a female cabbie named
|
|||
|
|
ESMARELDA VILLALOBOS. A young woman, with Spanish looks,
|
|||
|
|
sits parked, drinking a steaming hot cup of coffee out of a
|
|||
|
|
white styrofoam cup.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Sportscasters continue their coverage.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
SPORTSCASTER #1 (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
Do you feel this ring death tragedy
|
|||
|
|
will have an effect on the world of
|
|||
|
|
boxing?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
SPORTSCASTER #2 (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
Oh Dan, a tragedy like this can't
|
|||
|
|
help but shake the world of boxing
|
|||
|
|
to its very foundation. But it's of
|
|||
|
|
paramount importance that during the
|
|||
|
|
sad weeks ahead, the eyes of the
|
|||
|
|
W.B.A. remain firmly fixed on the –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CLICK – Esmarelda shuts off the radio.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She takes a sip of coffee, then hears a NOISE behind her in
|
|||
|
|
the alley. She sticks her head out of the car door to see:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. BOXING AUDITORIUM (RAINING) – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
A window about three stories high opens on the auditorium-
|
|||
|
|
side of the alley. A gym bag is tossed out into a garbage
|
|||
|
|
dumpster below the window. Then, Butch Coolidge, still dressed
|
|||
|
|
in boxing trunks, shoes, gloves and yellow robe, LEAPS to
|
|||
|
|
the dumpster below.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ESMARELDA'S REACTION takes in the strangeness of this sight.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Gym bag in hand, Butch CLIMBS out of the dumpster and RUNS
|
|||
|
|
to the taxi. Before he climbs in, he takes off his robe and
|
|||
|
|
throws it to the ground.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. TAXI (PARKED / RAINING) – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch, soaking wet, naked except for trunks, shoes and gloves,
|
|||
|
|
HOPS in the backseat, SLAMMING the door.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Esmarelda, staring straight ahead, talks to Butch through
|
|||
|
|
the rearview mirror:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ESMARELDA
|
|||
|
|
(Spanish accent)
|
|||
|
|
Are you the man I was supposed to
|
|||
|
|
pick up?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
If you're the cab I called, I'm the
|
|||
|
|
guy you're supposed to pick up.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ESMARELDA
|
|||
|
|
Where to?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Outta here.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The ignition key is TWISTED. The engine ROARS to life.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The meter is FLIPPED on.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Esmarelda's bare foot STOMPS on the gas pedal.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. BOXING AUDITORIUM (RAINING) – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The cab WHIPS out of the alley, FISH-TAILING on the wet
|
|||
|
|
pavement in front of the auditorium at a rapid pace.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. WILLIS LOCKER ROOM (AUDITORIUM) – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Locker room door opens, English Dave fights his way through
|
|||
|
|
the pandemonium which is going on outside in the hall,
|
|||
|
|
shutting the door on the madness. Once inside, English Dave
|
|||
|
|
takes time to adjust his suit and tie. Mia is standing by
|
|||
|
|
the door. She sees Vincent with English Dave.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Mia. How you doin'?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MIA
|
|||
|
|
Great. I never thanked you for the
|
|||
|
|
dinner.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
In the room, black boxer FLOYD RAY WILLIS lies on a table –
|
|||
|
|
dead.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
His face looks like he went dunking for bees. His TRAINER is
|
|||
|
|
on his knees, head on Floyd's chest, crying over the body.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The huge figure that is Marsellus Wallace stands at the table,
|
|||
|
|
hand on the Trainer's shoulder, lending emotional support.
|
|||
|
|
We still do not see Marsellus clearly, only that he is big.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mia sits in a chair at the far end of the room.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Marsellus looks up, sees English Dave and walks over to him.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MARSELLUS (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
What'cha got?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ENGLISH DAVE
|
|||
|
|
He booked.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MARSELLUS (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
I'm prepared to scour the earth for
|
|||
|
|
this motherfucker. If Butch goes to
|
|||
|
|
Indo China, I want a nigger hidin'
|
|||
|
|
in a bowl of rice, ready to pop a
|
|||
|
|
cap in his ass.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ENGLISH DAVE
|
|||
|
|
I'll take care of it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. CAB (MOVING / RAINING) – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch gets one of his boxing gloves off.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Esmeralda watches in the rearview mirror.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He tries to roll down one of the backseat windows, but can't
|
|||
|
|
find the roll bar.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Hey, how do I open the window back
|
|||
|
|
here?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ESMARELDA
|
|||
|
|
I have to do it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She presses a button and the back window moves down. Butch
|
|||
|
|
tosses his boxing glove out the window, then starts untying
|
|||
|
|
the other one.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Esmeralda can't keep quiet anymore.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ESMARELDA
|
|||
|
|
Hey, mister?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
(still working on the
|
|||
|
|
glove)
|
|||
|
|
What?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ESMARELDA
|
|||
|
|
You were in that fight? The fight on
|
|||
|
|
the radio – you're the fighter?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
As he tosses his other glove out the window.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Whatever gave you that idea?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ESMARELDA
|
|||
|
|
No c'mon, you're him, I know you're
|
|||
|
|
him, tell me you're him.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
(drying himself with
|
|||
|
|
a gym towel)
|
|||
|
|
I'm him.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ESMARELDA
|
|||
|
|
You killed the other boxing man.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
He's dead?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ESMARELDA
|
|||
|
|
The radio said he was dead.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He finished wiping himself down.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
(to himself)
|
|||
|
|
Sorry 'bout that, Floyd.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He tosses the towel out the window.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Silence, as Butch digs in his bag for a t-shirt.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ESMARELDA
|
|||
|
|
What does it feel like?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
(finds his shirt)
|
|||
|
|
What does what feel like?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ESMARELDA
|
|||
|
|
Killing a man. Beating another man
|
|||
|
|
to death with your bare hands.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch pulls on his tee-shirt.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Are you some kinda weirdo?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ESMARELDA
|
|||
|
|
No, it's a subject I have much
|
|||
|
|
interest in. You are the first person
|
|||
|
|
I ever met who has killed somebody.
|
|||
|
|
So, what was it like to kill a man?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Tell ya what, you give me one of
|
|||
|
|
them cigarettes, I'll give you an
|
|||
|
|
answer.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Esmarelda bounces in her seat with excitement.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ESMARELDA
|
|||
|
|
Deal!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch leans forward. Esmarelda, keeping her eyes on the road,
|
|||
|
|
passes a cigarette back to him. He takes it. Then, still not
|
|||
|
|
looking behind her, she brings up her hand, a lit match in
|
|||
|
|
it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch lights his smoke, then blows out the match.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He takes a long drag.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
So...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He looks at her license.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
...Esmarelda Villalobos – is that
|
|||
|
|
Mexican?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ESMARELDA
|
|||
|
|
The name is Spanish, but I'm
|
|||
|
|
Columbian.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
It's a very pretty name.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ESMARELDA
|
|||
|
|
It mean "Esmarelda of the wolves."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
That's one hell of a name you got
|
|||
|
|
there, sister.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ESMARELDA
|
|||
|
|
Thank you. And what is your name?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Butch.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ESMARELDA
|
|||
|
|
Butch. What does it mean?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
I'm an American, our names don't
|
|||
|
|
mean shit. Anyway, moving right along,
|
|||
|
|
what is it you wanna know, Esmarelda?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ESMARELDA
|
|||
|
|
I want to know what it feels like to
|
|||
|
|
kill a man –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
– I couldn't tell ya. I didn't know
|
|||
|
|
he was dead 'til you told me he was
|
|||
|
|
dead. Now I know he's dead, do you
|
|||
|
|
wanna know how I feel about it?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Esmarelda nods her head: "yes."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
I don't feel the least little bit
|
|||
|
|
bad.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. PHONE BOOTH (RAINING) – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
We DOLLY around a phone booth as Butch talks inside.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
(into phone)
|
|||
|
|
What'd I tell ya, soon as the word
|
|||
|
|
got out a fix was in, the odds would
|
|||
|
|
be outta control. Hey, if he was a
|
|||
|
|
better fighter he's be alive. If he
|
|||
|
|
never laced up his gloves in the
|
|||
|
|
first place, which he never shoulda
|
|||
|
|
done, he'd be alive. Enough about
|
|||
|
|
the poor unfortunate Mr. Floyd, let's
|
|||
|
|
talk about the rich and prosperous
|
|||
|
|
Mr. Butch. How many bookies you
|
|||
|
|
spread it around with?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
(PAUSE)
|
|||
|
|
Eight? How long to collect?
|
|||
|
|
(pause)
|
|||
|
|
So by tomorrow evening, you'll have
|
|||
|
|
it all?
|
|||
|
|
(pause)
|
|||
|
|
Good news Scotty, real good news – I
|
|||
|
|
understand a few stragglers aside.
|
|||
|
|
Me an' Fabienne're gonna leave in
|
|||
|
|
the morning. It should take us a
|
|||
|
|
couple days to get into Knoxville.
|
|||
|
|
Next time we see each other, it'll
|
|||
|
|
be on Tennessee time.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch hangs up the phone. He looks at the cab waiting to
|
|||
|
|
take him wherever he wants to go.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
(to himself in French
|
|||
|
|
with English subtitles)
|
|||
|
|
Fabienne my love, our adventure
|
|||
|
|
begins.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CUT TO:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. MOTEL (STOPPED / RAINING) – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Esmeralda's taxi pulled into the motel parking lot. The rain
|
|||
|
|
has stopped, but the night is still soaked. Butch gets out,
|
|||
|
|
now fully dressed in tee-shirt, jeans and high school athletic
|
|||
|
|
jacket. He leans in the driver's side window.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ESMARELDA
|
|||
|
|
Forty-five sixty.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Handing her the money.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Merci beaucoup. And here's a little
|
|||
|
|
something for the effort.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch holds up a hundred dollar bill.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Esmarelda's eyes light up. She goes to take it. Butch holds
|
|||
|
|
it out of reach.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Now if anybody should ask you about
|
|||
|
|
who your fare was tonight, what're
|
|||
|
|
you gonna tell 'em?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ESMARELDA
|
|||
|
|
The truth. Three well-dressed,
|
|||
|
|
slightly toasted, Mexicans.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He gives her the bill.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Bon soir, Esmarelda.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ESMARELDA
|
|||
|
|
(in Spanish)
|
|||
|
|
Sleep well, Butch.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He tweaks her nose, she smiles, and he turns and walks away.
|
|||
|
|
She drives off.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. MOTEL (ROOM SIX) – NIGHT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch enters and turns on the light.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Lying curled up on the bed, fully dressed, with her back to
|
|||
|
|
us is Butch's French girlfriend, FABIENNE.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Keep the light off.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch flicks the switch back, making the room dark again.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Is that better, sugar pop?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Oui. Hard day at the office?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Pretty hard. I got into a fight.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Poor baby. Can we make spoons?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch climbs into bed, spooning Fabienne from behind.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
When Butch and Fabienne speak to each other, they speak in
|
|||
|
|
babytalk.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
I was looking at myself in the mirror.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Uh-huh?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
I wish I had a pot.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
You were lookin' in the mirror and
|
|||
|
|
you wish you had some pot?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
A pot. A pot belly. Pot bellies are
|
|||
|
|
sexy.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Well you should be happy, 'cause you
|
|||
|
|
do.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Shut up, Fatso! I don't have a pot!
|
|||
|
|
I have a bit of a tummy, like Madonna
|
|||
|
|
when she did "Lucky Star," it's not
|
|||
|
|
the same thing.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
I didn't realize there was a
|
|||
|
|
difference between a tummy and a pot
|
|||
|
|
belly.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
The difference is huge.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
You want me to have a pot?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
No. Pot bellies make a man look either
|
|||
|
|
oafish, or like a gorilla. But on a
|
|||
|
|
woman, a pot belly is very sexy. The
|
|||
|
|
rest of you is normal. Normal face,
|
|||
|
|
normal legs, normal hips, normal
|
|||
|
|
ass, but with a big, perfectly round
|
|||
|
|
pot belly. If I had one, I'd wear a
|
|||
|
|
tee-shirt two sizes too small to
|
|||
|
|
accentuate it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
You think guys would find that
|
|||
|
|
attractive?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
I don't give a damn what men find
|
|||
|
|
attractive. It's unfortunate what we
|
|||
|
|
find pleasing to the touch and
|
|||
|
|
pleasing to the eye is seldom the
|
|||
|
|
same.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
If you a pot belly, I'd punch you in
|
|||
|
|
it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
You'd punch me in my belly?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Right in the belly.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
I'd smother you. I'd drop it on your
|
|||
|
|
right on your face 'til you couldn't
|
|||
|
|
breathe.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
You'd do that to me?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Yes!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Did you get everything, sugar pop?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Yes, I did.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Good job.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Did everything go as planned?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
You didn't listen to the radio?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
I never listen to your fights. Were
|
|||
|
|
you the winner?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
I won alright.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Are you still retiring?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Sure am.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
What about the man you fought?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Floyd retired too.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
(smiling)
|
|||
|
|
Really?! He won't be fighting no
|
|||
|
|
more?!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Not no more.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
So it all worked out in the finish?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
We ain't at the finish, baby.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Fabienne rolls over and Butch gets on top of her. They kiss.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
We're in a lot of danger, aren't we?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch nods his head: "yes."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
If they find us, they'll kill us,
|
|||
|
|
won't they?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch nods his head: "yes."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
But they won't find us, will they?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch nods his head: "no."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Do you still want me to go with you?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch nods his head: "yes."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
I don't want to be a burden or a
|
|||
|
|
nuisance -
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch's hand goes out of frame and starts massaging her
|
|||
|
|
crotch.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Fabienne reacts.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Say it!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Fabienne, I want you to be with me.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Forever?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
...and ever.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Fabienne lies her head back.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch continues to massage her crotch.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Do you love me?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Oui.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Butch? Will you give me oral pleasure?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch kisses her on the mouth.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Will you kiss it?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She nods her head: "yes."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
But you first.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch's head goes down out of frame to carry out the oral
|
|||
|
|
pleasure. Fabienne's face is alone in the frame.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
(in French, with
|
|||
|
|
English subtitles)
|
|||
|
|
Butch my love, the adventure begins.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FADE TO BLACK
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FADE UP:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MOTEL ROOM
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Same motel room, except empty. WE HEAR THE SHOWER RUNNING in
|
|||
|
|
the bathroom. The CAMERA MOVES to the bathroom doorway. We
|
|||
|
|
see Fabienne in a white terry cloth robe that seems to swallow
|
|||
|
|
her up.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She's drying her head with a towel. Butch is inside the shower
|
|||
|
|
washing up. We see the outline of his naked body through the
|
|||
|
|
smoky glass of the shower door. Steam fills the bathroom.
|
|||
|
|
Butch turns the shower off and opens the door, popping his
|
|||
|
|
head out.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
I think I cracked a rib.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Giving me oral pleasure?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
No retard, from the fight.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Don't call me retard.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
(in a Mongoloid voice)
|
|||
|
|
My name is Fabby! My name is Fabby!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Shut up fuck head! I hate that
|
|||
|
|
Mongoloid voice.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Okay, sorry, sorry, sorry, I take it
|
|||
|
|
back! Can I have a towel please,
|
|||
|
|
Miss Beautiful Tulip.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Oh I like that, I like being called
|
|||
|
|
a tulip. Tulip is much better than
|
|||
|
|
Mongoloid.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She finishes drying her hair and wraps the towel like a turban
|
|||
|
|
on her head.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
I didn't call you a Mongoloid, I
|
|||
|
|
called you a retard, but I took it
|
|||
|
|
back.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She hands him a towel.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Merci beaucoup.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Butch?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
(drying his head)
|
|||
|
|
Yes, lemon pie.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Where are we going to go?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
I'm not sure yet. Wherever you want.
|
|||
|
|
We're gonna get a lot of money from
|
|||
|
|
this. But it ain't gonna be so much,
|
|||
|
|
we can live like hogs in the fat
|
|||
|
|
house forever. I was thinking we
|
|||
|
|
could go somewhere in the South
|
|||
|
|
Pacific. The kinda money we'll have'll
|
|||
|
|
carry us a long way down there.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
So if we wanted, we could live in
|
|||
|
|
Bora Bora?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
You betcha. And if after awhile you
|
|||
|
|
don't dig Bora Bora, then we can
|
|||
|
|
move over to Tahiti or Mexico.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
But I do not speak Spanish.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
You don't speak Bora Boran either.
|
|||
|
|
Besides, Mexican is easy: Donde esta
|
|||
|
|
el zapataria?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
What does that mean?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Where's the shoe store?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Donde esta el zapataria?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Excellent pronunciation. You'll be
|
|||
|
|
my little mama ceta in no time.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch exits the bathroom. We stay on Fabienne as she brushes
|
|||
|
|
her teeth.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch keeps on from the other room.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
Que hora es?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Que hora es?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
What time is it?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
What time is it?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
Time for bed. Sweet dream, jellybean.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Fabienne brushes her teeth. We watch her for a moment or
|
|||
|
|
two, then she remember something.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Butch.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She walks out of the bathroom to ask Butch a question, only
|
|||
|
|
to find him sound asleep in bed.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She looks at him for a moment.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Forget it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She exits frame, going back in the bathroom. WE STAY on the
|
|||
|
|
WIDE SHOT of the unconscious Butch in bed.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FADE TO BLACK
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FADE UP:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MOTEL ROOM – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
SAME SHOT AS BEFORE, the next morning. We find Butch still
|
|||
|
|
asleep in bed.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Fabienne brushes her teeth half in and half out of the
|
|||
|
|
bathroom so she can watch TV at the same time. She still
|
|||
|
|
wears the terry cloth robe from the night before.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ON TV: WILLIAM SMITH and a BUNCH OF HELL'S ANGELS are taking
|
|||
|
|
on the entire Vietnamese army in the film "THE LOSERS".
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch wakes from his sleep, as if a scary monster was chasing
|
|||
|
|
him.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
His start startles Fabienne.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Merde! You startled me. Did you have
|
|||
|
|
a bad dream?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch squints down the front of the bed at her, trying to
|
|||
|
|
focus.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch, still trying to chase the cobwebs away, sees on TV
|
|||
|
|
Hell's Angels tear-assin' through a Vietnamese prison camp.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
What are you watching?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
A motorcycle movie, I'm not sure the
|
|||
|
|
name.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Are you watchin' it?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Fabienne enters the room.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
In a way. Why? Would you like for me
|
|||
|
|
to switch it off?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Would you please?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She reaches over and turns off the TV.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
It's a little too early in the morning
|
|||
|
|
for explosions and war.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
What was it about?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
How should I know, you were the one
|
|||
|
|
watchin' it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Fabienne laughs.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
No, imbecile, what was your dream
|
|||
|
|
about?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Oh, I... don't remember. It's really
|
|||
|
|
rare I remember a dream.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
You just woke up from it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Fabienne, I'm not lying to you, I
|
|||
|
|
don't remember.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Well, let's look at the grumpy man
|
|||
|
|
in the morning. I didn't say you
|
|||
|
|
were lying, it's just odd you don't
|
|||
|
|
remember your dreams. I always
|
|||
|
|
remember mine. Did you know you talk
|
|||
|
|
in your sleep?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
I don't talk in my sleep, do I talk
|
|||
|
|
in my sleep?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
You did last night.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
What did I say?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Laying on top of him.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
I don't know. I couldn't understand
|
|||
|
|
you.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She kisses Butch.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Why don't you get up and we'll get
|
|||
|
|
some breakfast at that breakfast
|
|||
|
|
place with the pancakes.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
One more kiss and I'll get up.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Fabienne gives Butch a sweet long kiss.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Satisfied?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Yep.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Then get up, lazy bones.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch climbs out of bed and starts pulling clothes out of
|
|||
|
|
the suitcase that Fabienne brought.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
What time is it?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Almost nine in the morning. What
|
|||
|
|
time does our train arrive?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Eleven.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
I'm gonna order a big plate of
|
|||
|
|
blueberry pancakes with maple syrup,
|
|||
|
|
eggs over easy, and five sausages.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
(surprised at her
|
|||
|
|
potential appetite)
|
|||
|
|
Anything to drink with that?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch is finished dressing.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
(referring to his
|
|||
|
|
clothes)
|
|||
|
|
Oh yes, that looks nice. To drink, a
|
|||
|
|
tall glass or orange juice and a
|
|||
|
|
black cup of coffee. After that, I'm
|
|||
|
|
going to have a slice of pie.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
As he goes through the suitcase.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Pie for breakfast?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Any time of the day is a good time
|
|||
|
|
for pie. Blueberry pie to go with
|
|||
|
|
the pancakes. And on top, a thin
|
|||
|
|
slice of melted cheese –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
– where's my watch?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
It's there.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
No, it's not. It's not here.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Have you looked?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
By now, Butch is frantically rummaging through the suitcase.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Yes I've fuckin' looked!!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He's now throwing clothes.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
What the fuck do you think I'm doing?!
|
|||
|
|
Are you sure you got it?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Fabienne can hardly speak, she's never seen Butch this way.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Uhhh... yes... beside the table drawer
|
|||
|
|
–
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
– on the little kangaroo.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Yes, it was on your little kangaroo.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Well it's not here!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
(on the verge of tears)
|
|||
|
|
Well it should be!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Oh it most definitely should be here,
|
|||
|
|
but it's not. So where is it?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Fabienne is crying and scared.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch lowers his voice, which only serves to make him more
|
|||
|
|
menacing.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Fabienne, that was my father's fuckin'
|
|||
|
|
watch. You know what my father went
|
|||
|
|
through to git me that watch?... I
|
|||
|
|
don't wanna get into it right now...
|
|||
|
|
but he went through a lot. Now all
|
|||
|
|
this other shit, you coulda set on
|
|||
|
|
fire, but I specifically reminded
|
|||
|
|
you not to forget my father's watch.
|
|||
|
|
Now think, did you get it?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
I believe so...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
You believe so? You either did, or
|
|||
|
|
you didn't, now which one is it?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Then I did.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Are you sure?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
(shaking)
|
|||
|
|
No.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch freaks out, he punches the air.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Fabienne SCREAMS and backs into a corner, Butch picks up the
|
|||
|
|
motel TV and THROWS IT AGAINST the wall.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Fabienne SCREAMS IN HORROR.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch looks toward her, suddenly calm.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
(to Fabienne)
|
|||
|
|
No! It's not your fault.
|
|||
|
|
(he approached her)
|
|||
|
|
You left it at the apartment.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He bends down in front of the woman who has sunk to the floor.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He touches her hand, she flinches.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
If you did leave it at the apartment,
|
|||
|
|
it's not your fault. I had you bring
|
|||
|
|
a bunch of stuff. I reminded you
|
|||
|
|
about it, but I didn't illustrate
|
|||
|
|
how personal the watch was to me. If
|
|||
|
|
all I gave a fuck about was my watch,
|
|||
|
|
I should've told you. You ain't a
|
|||
|
|
mind reader.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He kisses her hand. Then rises.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Fabienne is still sniffling.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch goes to the closet.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
I'm sorry.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch puts on his high school jacket.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Don't be. It just means I won't be
|
|||
|
|
able to eat breakfast with you.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Why does it mean that?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Because I'm going back to my apartment
|
|||
|
|
to get my watch.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Won't the gangsters be looking for
|
|||
|
|
you there?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
That's what I'm gonna find out. If
|
|||
|
|
they are, and I don't think I can
|
|||
|
|
handle it, I'll split.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Rising from the floor.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
I was so dreadful. I saw your watch,
|
|||
|
|
I thought I brought it. I'm so sorry.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch brings her close and puts his hands on her face.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Don't feel bad, sugar pop. Nothing
|
|||
|
|
you could ever do would make me
|
|||
|
|
permanently angry at you.
|
|||
|
|
(pause)
|
|||
|
|
I love you, remember?
|
|||
|
|
(he digs some money
|
|||
|
|
out of his wallet)
|
|||
|
|
Now here's some money, order those
|
|||
|
|
pancakes and have a great breakfast.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Don't go.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
I'll be back before you can say,
|
|||
|
|
blueberry pie.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Blueberry pie.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Well maybe not that fast, but fast.
|
|||
|
|
Okay? Okay?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Okay.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He kisses her once more and heads for the door.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Bye-bye, sugar pop.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Bye.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
I'm gonna take your Honda.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Okay.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
And with that, he's out the door.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Fabienne sits on the bed and looks at the money he gave her.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. HONDA (MOVING) – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch is beating the steering wheel and the dash with his
|
|||
|
|
fists as he drives down the street.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Of all the fuckin' things she coulda
|
|||
|
|
forgot, she forgets my father's watch.
|
|||
|
|
I specifically reminded her not to
|
|||
|
|
forget it. "Bedside table – on the
|
|||
|
|
kangaroo." I said the words: "Don't
|
|||
|
|
forget my father's watch."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. CITY STREET – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The little Honda races toward its destination as fast as is
|
|||
|
|
little engine will take it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CUT TO:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
A parking meter red flag rises up, then out, leaving the
|
|||
|
|
arrow pointing at one hour.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. RESIDENTIAL STREET CORNER – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch isn't completely reckless. He has parked his car a
|
|||
|
|
couple of blocks from his apartment to check things out before
|
|||
|
|
he goes boppin' through the front door.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. ALLEY – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch walks down the alley until he gets to another street,
|
|||
|
|
then he discreetly glances out.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. STREET – BUTCH'S APARTMENT – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Everything seems normal. More or less the right number of
|
|||
|
|
cars in the street. None of the parked cars appear out of
|
|||
|
|
place. None of them have a couple of goons sitting inside.
|
|||
|
|
Basically, it looks like normal morning activity in front of
|
|||
|
|
Butch's home.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch peers around a wall, taking in the vital information.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch walks out of the alley and is ready for anything. He
|
|||
|
|
crosses the street and enters his apartment courtyard.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Across the street from Butch's building, on the corner, is a
|
|||
|
|
combination donut shop and Japanese restaurant. A big sign
|
|||
|
|
sticks up in the air, with the name "Teriyaki Donut" and a
|
|||
|
|
graphic of a donut sticking out of a bowl of rice.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. BUTCH'S APARTMENT COURTYARD – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch is in the courtyard of his North Hollywood apartment
|
|||
|
|
building. Once again, everything appears normal – the laundry
|
|||
|
|
room, the pool, his apartment door – nothing appears
|
|||
|
|
disturbed.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch climbs the stairs leading to his apartment, number 12.
|
|||
|
|
He steps outside the door and listens inside. Nothing.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch slowly inserts the key into the door, quietly opening
|
|||
|
|
it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. BUTCH'S APARTMENT – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
His apartment hasn't been touched.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He cautiously steps inside, shuts the door and takes a quick
|
|||
|
|
look around. Obviously, no one is there.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch walks into his modest kitchen, and opens the
|
|||
|
|
refrigerator.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He takes out a carton of milk and drinks from it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
With carton in hard, Butch surveys the apartment. Then he
|
|||
|
|
goes to the bedroom.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
His bedroom is like the rest of the apartment – neat, clean
|
|||
|
|
and anonymous. The only things personal in his room are a
|
|||
|
|
few boxing trophies, an Olympic silver medal, a framed issue
|
|||
|
|
of "Ring Magazine" with Butch on the cover, and a poster of
|
|||
|
|
Jerry Quarry and one of George Chuvalo.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Sure enough, there's the watch just like he said it was: On
|
|||
|
|
the bedside table, hanging on his little kangaroo statue.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He walks through the apartment and back into the kitchen. He
|
|||
|
|
opens a cupboard and takes out a box of Pop Tarts. Putting
|
|||
|
|
down the milk, he opens the box, takes out two Pop Tarts and
|
|||
|
|
puts them in the toaster.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch glances to his right, his eyes fall on something.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
What he sees is a small compact Czech M61 submachine gun
|
|||
|
|
with a huge silencer on it, lying on his kitchen counter.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
(softly)
|
|||
|
|
Holy shit.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He picks up the intimidating peace of weaponry and examines
|
|||
|
|
it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Then... a toilet FLUSHES.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch looks up to the bathroom door, which is parallel to
|
|||
|
|
the kitchen. There is someone behind it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Like a rabbit caught in a radish patch, Butch freezes, not
|
|||
|
|
knowing what to do.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The bathroom door opens and Vincent Vega steps out of the
|
|||
|
|
bathroom, tightening his belt. In his hand is the book
|
|||
|
|
"MODESTY BLAISE" by Peter O'Donnell.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent and Butch lock eyes.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent freezes.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch doesn't move, except to point the M61 in Vincent's
|
|||
|
|
direction.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Neither man opens his mouth.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Then... the toaster LOUDLY kicks up the Pop Tarts.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
That's all the situation needed.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch's finger HITS the trigger.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MUFFLED FIRE SHOOTS out of the end of the gun.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent is seemingly WRACKED with twenty bullets
|
|||
|
|
SIMULTANEOUSLY – LIFTING him off his feet, PROPELLING him
|
|||
|
|
through the air and CRASHING through the glass shower door
|
|||
|
|
at the end of the bathroom.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
By the time Butch removes his finger from the trigger, Vincent
|
|||
|
|
is annihilated.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch stands frozen, amazed at what just happened. His look
|
|||
|
|
goes from the grease spot in the bathroom that was once
|
|||
|
|
Vincent, down to the powerful piece of artillery in his grip.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
With the respect it deserves, Butch carefully places the M61
|
|||
|
|
back on the kitchen counter.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Then he exits the apartment, quickly.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. APARTMENT COURTYARD – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch, not running, but walking very rapidly, crosses the
|
|||
|
|
courtyard...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
...comes out of the apartment building, crosses the street...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
...goes through the alley...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
...and into his car in one STEADICAM SHOT.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. HONDA – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch CRANKS the car into gear and drives away. The big wide
|
|||
|
|
smile of a survivor breaks across his face.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING STREET – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Honda turns down the alley and slowly cruises by his
|
|||
|
|
apartment building.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. HONDA – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch looks out the window at his former home.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
That's how you're gonna beat 'em,
|
|||
|
|
Butch. They keep underestimatin'
|
|||
|
|
ya.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
This makes the boxer laugh out loud. As he laughs, he flips
|
|||
|
|
a tape in the cassette player. When the MUSIC starts, he
|
|||
|
|
SINGS along with it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He drives by the apartment, but is stopped at the light on
|
|||
|
|
the corner across from Teriyaki Donut.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch is still chuckling, singing along with the song, as we
|
|||
|
|
see:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The big man himself, Marsellus Wallace, exit Teriyaki Donut,
|
|||
|
|
carrying a box of a dozen donuts and two large styrofoam
|
|||
|
|
cups of coffee. He steps off the curb, crossing the street
|
|||
|
|
in front of Butch's car. This is the first time we see
|
|||
|
|
Marsellus clearly.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Laughing boy stops when he sees the big man directly in front
|
|||
|
|
of him.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
When Marsellus is in front of Butch's car, he casually glances
|
|||
|
|
to his left, sees Butch, continues walking... then STOPS!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
DOUBLE-TAKE: "Am I really seeing what I'm seeing?"
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch doesn't wait for the big man to answer his own question.
|
|||
|
|
He STOMPS on the gas pedal.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The little Honda SLAMS into Marsellus, sending him, the donuts
|
|||
|
|
and the coffee HITTING the pavement at thirty miles an hour.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch CUTS into cross traffic and is BROAD-SIDED by a gold
|
|||
|
|
Camaro Z-28, BREAKING all the windows in the Honda and sending
|
|||
|
|
it up on the sidewalk.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch sits dazed and confused in the crumpled mess of what
|
|||
|
|
at one time was Fabienne's Honda. Blood flows from his
|
|||
|
|
nostrils. The still-functional tape player continues to play.
|
|||
|
|
A PEDESTRIAN pokes his head inside.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PEDESTRIAN
|
|||
|
|
Jesus, are you okay?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch look at him, spaced-out.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
I guess.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Marsellus Wallace lies sprawled out in the street. GAWKERS
|
|||
|
|
gather around the body.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
GAWKER #1
|
|||
|
|
(to the others)
|
|||
|
|
He's dead! He's dead!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
This jerk's yelling makes Marsellus come to.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
TWO PEDESTRIANS help the shaken Butch out of the wreckage.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The woozy Marsellus gets to his feet.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
GAWKER #2
|
|||
|
|
If you need a witness in court, I'll
|
|||
|
|
be glad to help. He was a drunken
|
|||
|
|
maniac. He hit you and crashed into
|
|||
|
|
that car.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MARSELLUS
|
|||
|
|
(still incoherent)
|
|||
|
|
Who?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
GAWKER #2
|
|||
|
|
(pointing at Butch)
|
|||
|
|
Him.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Marsellus follows the Gawker's finger and sees Butch Coolidge
|
|||
|
|
down the street, looking a shambles.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MARSELLUS
|
|||
|
|
Well, I'll be damned.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The big man takes out a .45 Automatic and the Gawkers back
|
|||
|
|
away.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Marsellus starts moving toward Butch.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch sees the fierce figure making a wobbly bee-line toward
|
|||
|
|
him.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Sacre bleu.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Marsellus brings up his weapon and FIRES, but he's so hurt,
|
|||
|
|
shaky and dazed that his arm goes wild.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He HITS a LOOKY-LOO WOMAN in the hip. She falls to the ground,
|
|||
|
|
screaming.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
LOOKY-LOO WOMAN
|
|||
|
|
Oh my God, I've been shot!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
That's all Butch needs to see. He's outta here.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Marsellus RUNS after him.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The CROWD looks agape.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch is in a mad, limping RUN.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The big man's hot on his ass with a cockeyed wobbly run.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch cuts across traffic and dashes into a business with a
|
|||
|
|
sign that reads "MASON-DIXIE PAWNSHOP".
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. MASON-DIXIE PAWNSHOP – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MAYNARD, a hillbilly-lookin' boy, stands behind the counter
|
|||
|
|
of his pawnshop when, all of a sudden, chaos in the form of
|
|||
|
|
Butch RACES into his world.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MAYNARD
|
|||
|
|
Can I help you wit' somethin'?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Shut up!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch quickly takes measure of the situation, than stands
|
|||
|
|
next to the door.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MAYNARD
|
|||
|
|
Now you just wait one goddamn minute
|
|||
|
|
–
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Before Maynard can finish his threat, Marsellus CHARGES in.
|
|||
|
|
He doesn't get past the doorway because Butch LANDS his fist
|
|||
|
|
in Marsellus' face.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The gangster's feet go out from under him and the big man
|
|||
|
|
FALLS FLAT on his back.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Outside, two police cars with their SIRENS BLARING race by.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch POUNCES on the fallen body, PUNCHING him twice more in
|
|||
|
|
the face.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch takes the gun out of Marsellus' hand, than grabs ahold
|
|||
|
|
of his middle finger.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
So you like chasing people, huh?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He BREAKS the finger. Marsellus lets out a pain sound. Butch
|
|||
|
|
then places the barrel of the .45 between his eyes, PULLS
|
|||
|
|
back the hammer and places his open hand behind the gun to
|
|||
|
|
shield the splatter.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Well guess what, big man, you caught
|
|||
|
|
me –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MAYNARD (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
– hold it right there, godammit!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch and Marsellus look up at Maynard, who's brandishing a
|
|||
|
|
pumpaction shotgun, aimed at the two men.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Look mister, this ain't any of your
|
|||
|
|
business –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MAYNARD
|
|||
|
|
– I'm makin' it my business! Now
|
|||
|
|
toss that gun!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch does.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MAYNARD
|
|||
|
|
Now you on top, stand up and come to
|
|||
|
|
the counter.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch slowly gets up and moves to the counter. As soon as he
|
|||
|
|
gets there, Maynard HAULS OFF, HITTING him hard in the face
|
|||
|
|
with the butt of the shotgun, knocking Butch down and out.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
After Butch goes down, Maynard calmly lays the shotgun on
|
|||
|
|
the counter and moves to the telephone.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Marsellus Wallace, from his position on the floor, groggily
|
|||
|
|
watches the pawnshop owner dial a number. Maynard waits on
|
|||
|
|
the line while the other end rings. Then it picks up.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MAYNARD
|
|||
|
|
Zed? It's Maynard. The spider just
|
|||
|
|
caught a coupl'a flies.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Marsellus passes out.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FADE TO BLACK
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FADE UP:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. PAWNSHOP BACK ROOM – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
TWO SHOT – BUTCH AND MARSELLUS
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
They are tied up in two separate chairs. In their mouths are
|
|||
|
|
two S&M-style ball gags (a belt goes around their heads and
|
|||
|
|
a little red ball sticks in their mouths). Both men are
|
|||
|
|
unconscious.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Maynard steps in with a fire extinguisher and SPRAYS both
|
|||
|
|
guys until they're wide awake and wet as otters. The two
|
|||
|
|
prisoners look up at their captors.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Maynard stands in front of them, fire extinguisher in one
|
|||
|
|
hand, shotgun in the other, and Marsellus' .45 sticking in
|
|||
|
|
his belt.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MAYNARD
|
|||
|
|
Nobody kills anybody in my place of
|
|||
|
|
business except me or Zed.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
A BUZZER buzzes.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MAYNARD
|
|||
|
|
That's Zed.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Without saying another word, Maynard climbs up the stairs
|
|||
|
|
that lead to red curtains and goes through them.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
WE HEAR, on the other side of the curtains, Maynard let Zed
|
|||
|
|
inside the store.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch and Marsellus look around the room. The basement of
|
|||
|
|
the pawnshop has been converted into a dungeon. After taking
|
|||
|
|
in their predicament, Butch and Marsellus look at each other,
|
|||
|
|
all traces of hostility gone, replaced by a terror they both
|
|||
|
|
share at what they've gotten themselves into.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Maynard and ZED come through the curtains. Zed is an even
|
|||
|
|
more intense version of Maynard, if such a thing is possible.
|
|||
|
|
The two hillbillys are obviously brothers. Where Maynard is
|
|||
|
|
a vicious pitbull, Zed is a deadly cobra. Zed walks in and
|
|||
|
|
stands in front of the two captives. He inspects them for a
|
|||
|
|
long time, then says:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ZED
|
|||
|
|
(to Maynard)
|
|||
|
|
You said you waited for me?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MAYNARD
|
|||
|
|
I did.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ZED
|
|||
|
|
Then how come they're all beat up?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MAYNARD
|
|||
|
|
They did that to each other. They
|
|||
|
|
was fightin' when they came in. This
|
|||
|
|
one was gonna shoot that one.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ZED
|
|||
|
|
(to Butch)
|
|||
|
|
You were gonna shoot him?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch makes no reply.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ZED
|
|||
|
|
Hey, is Grace gonna be okay in front
|
|||
|
|
of this place?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MAYNARD
|
|||
|
|
Yeah, it ain't Tuesday is it?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ZED
|
|||
|
|
No, it's Thursday.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MAYNARD
|
|||
|
|
Then she'll be fine.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ZED
|
|||
|
|
Bring out The Gimp.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MAYNARD
|
|||
|
|
I think The Gimp's sleepin'.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ZED
|
|||
|
|
Well, I guess you'll just wake 'em
|
|||
|
|
up then, won't you?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Maynard opens a trap door in the floor.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MAYNARD
|
|||
|
|
(yelling in the hole)
|
|||
|
|
Wake up!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Maynard reaches into the hole and comes back holding onto a
|
|||
|
|
leash.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He gives it a rough yank and, from below the floor, rises
|
|||
|
|
THE GIMP.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Gimp is a man they keep dressed from head to toe in black
|
|||
|
|
leather bondage gear. There are zippers, buckles and studs
|
|||
|
|
here and there on the body. On his head is a black leather
|
|||
|
|
mask with two eye holes and a zipper (closed) for a mouth.
|
|||
|
|
They keep him in a hole in the floor big enough for a large
|
|||
|
|
dog.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Zed takes the chair, sits it in front of the two prisoners,
|
|||
|
|
then lowers into it. Maynard hands The Gimp's leash to Zed,
|
|||
|
|
then backs away.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MAYNARD
|
|||
|
|
(to The Gimp)
|
|||
|
|
Down!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Gimp gets on its knees.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Maynard hangs back while Zed appraises the two men.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MAYNARD
|
|||
|
|
Who's first?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ZED
|
|||
|
|
I ain't fer sure yet.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Then with his little finger, Zed does a silent "Eenie, meany,
|
|||
|
|
miney, moe... " just his mouth mouthing the words and his
|
|||
|
|
finger going back and forth between the two.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch are Marsellus are terrified.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Maynard looks back and forth at the victims.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Gimps's eyes go from one to the other inside the mask.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Zed continues his silent sing-song with his finger moving
|
|||
|
|
left to right, then it stops.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
TWO SHOT – BUTCH AND MARSELLUS
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
After a beat, THE CAMERA MOVES to the right, zeroing in on
|
|||
|
|
Marsellus.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Zed stands up.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ZED
|
|||
|
|
Wanna do it here?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MAYNARD
|
|||
|
|
Naw, drag big boy to Russell's old
|
|||
|
|
room.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Zed grabs Marsellus' chair and DRAGS him into Russell's old
|
|||
|
|
room.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Russell, no doubt, was some other poor bastard that has the
|
|||
|
|
misfortune of stumbling into the Mason-Dixie pawnshop.
|
|||
|
|
Whatever happened to Russell is known only to Maynard and
|
|||
|
|
Zed because his old room, a back room in the back of the
|
|||
|
|
back room, is empty.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
As Marsellus is dragged away, he locks eyes with Butch before
|
|||
|
|
he disappears behind the door of Russell's old room.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MAYNARD
|
|||
|
|
(to The Gimp)
|
|||
|
|
Up!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Gimp rises. Maynard ties The Gimp's leash to a hook on
|
|||
|
|
the ceiling.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MAYNARD
|
|||
|
|
Keep an eye on this one.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Gimp bows its head: "yes." Maynard disappears into
|
|||
|
|
Russell's old room. There must be a stereo in there because
|
|||
|
|
suddenly The Judds, singing in harmony, fills the air.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch looks at The Gimp. The Gimp giggles from underneath
|
|||
|
|
the mask as if this were the funniest moment in the history
|
|||
|
|
of comedy.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
From behind the door we hear country MUSIC, struggling, and:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MAYNARD (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
Whoa, this boy's got a bit of fight
|
|||
|
|
in 'em!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
We the HEAR Maynard and Zed beat on Marsellus.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
ZED (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
You wanna fight? You wanna fight?
|
|||
|
|
Good, I like to fight!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch pauses, listens to the voices. Then, in a panic,
|
|||
|
|
hurriedly struggles to get free.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Gimp is laughing wildly.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The ropes are on too tight and Butch can't break free.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Gimp slaps his knee laughing In the back room, we hear:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MAYNARD (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
That's it... that's it boy, you're
|
|||
|
|
goin' fine. Oooooooh, just like
|
|||
|
|
that... that's good.
|
|||
|
|
(grunting faster)
|
|||
|
|
Stay still... stay still goddamn ya!
|
|||
|
|
Zed goddammit, git over here and
|
|||
|
|
hold 'em!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch stops struggling and lifts up on his arms. Then, quite
|
|||
|
|
easily, the padded chair back slides up and off as if it
|
|||
|
|
were never connected by a bolt.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Gimp sees this and its eyes widen.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE GIMP
|
|||
|
|
Huhng?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Gimp FLAILS WILDLY, trying to get the leash off the hook.
|
|||
|
|
He tries to yell, but all that comes out are excited gurgles
|
|||
|
|
and grunts.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch is out of his chair, quickly dispensing three BOXER'S
|
|||
|
|
PUNCHES to its face. The punches knock The Gimp out, making
|
|||
|
|
him fall to his knees, this HANGING HIMSELF by the leash
|
|||
|
|
attached to the hook, Butch removes the ball gag, then
|
|||
|
|
silently makes his way through the red curtains.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. PAWNSHOP – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch sneaks to the door.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
On the counter is a big set of keys with a large Z connected
|
|||
|
|
to the ring. Grabbing them, he's about to go out when he
|
|||
|
|
stops and listens to the hillbilly psychopaths having their
|
|||
|
|
way with Marsellus.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch decides for the life of him, he can't leave anybody in
|
|||
|
|
a situation like that. Se he begins rooting around the
|
|||
|
|
pawnshop for a weapon to bash those hillbillies' heads in
|
|||
|
|
with.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He picks up a big destructive-looking hammer, then discards
|
|||
|
|
it: Not destructive enough. He picks up a chainsaw, thinks
|
|||
|
|
about it for a moment, then puts it back. Next, a large
|
|||
|
|
Louisville slugger he tries on for size. But then he spots
|
|||
|
|
what he's been looking for:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
A Samurai sword.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
It hands in its hand-carved wood sheath from a nail on the
|
|||
|
|
wall, next to a neon "DAD'S OLD-FASHIONED ROOT BEER" sign.
|
|||
|
|
Butch takes the sword off the wall, removing it from its
|
|||
|
|
sheath. It's a magnificent piece of steel. It seems to glisten
|
|||
|
|
in the low-wattage light of the pawnshop. Butch touches his
|
|||
|
|
thumb to the blade to see if the sword is just for show. Not
|
|||
|
|
on your life. It's as sharp as it gets. This weapon seems
|
|||
|
|
made to order for the Brothers Grimm downstairs. Holding the
|
|||
|
|
sword pointed downward, Takakura Kenstyle, he disappears
|
|||
|
|
through the red curtains to take care of business.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. PAWNSHOP BACK ROOM – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch quietly sneaks down the stairs leading to the dungeon.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Sodomy and the Judds can still be heard going string behind
|
|||
|
|
the closed door that leads to Russell's old room.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. RUSSELL'S OLD ROOM – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch's hand comes into frame, pushing the door open. It
|
|||
|
|
swings open silently, revealing the rapists, who have switched
|
|||
|
|
positions.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Zed is now bent over Marsellus, who is bent over a wooden
|
|||
|
|
horse.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Maynard watches. Both have their backs to Butch.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Maynard faces the CAMERA, grinning, while Butch comes up
|
|||
|
|
behind him with the sword.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Miserable, violated, and looking like a rag doll, Marsellus,
|
|||
|
|
red ball gag still in mouth, opens his watery eyes to see
|
|||
|
|
Butch coming up behind Maynard. His eyes widen.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Hey hillbilly.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Maynard turns and sees Butch holding the sword.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch SCREAMS... with one mighty SWING, SLASHES Maynard across
|
|||
|
|
the front, moving past him, eyes and blade now locked on
|
|||
|
|
Zed.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Maynard stands trembling, his front sliced open, in shock.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch, while never taking his eyes off Zed, THRUSTS the sword
|
|||
|
|
behind him, SKEWERING Maynard, then EXTRACTS it, pointing
|
|||
|
|
the blade toward Zed. Maynard COLLAPSES.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Zed disengages from Marsellus in a hurry and his eyes go
|
|||
|
|
from the tip of Butch's sword to Marsellus' .45 Automatic,
|
|||
|
|
which lies within reach.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch's eyes follow Zed's.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
You want that gun, Zed? Pick it up.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Zed's hand inches toward the weapon.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch GRIPS the sword tighter.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Zed studies Butch.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch looks hard at Zed.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Then a VOICE says:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MARSELLUS (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
Step aside, Butch.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch steps aside, REVEALING Marsellus standing behind him,
|
|||
|
|
holding Maynard's pump-action shotgun.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
KABOOM!!!!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Zed is BLASTED in the groin. Down he goes, SCREAMING in AGONY.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Marsellus, looking down at his whimpering rapist, EJECTS the
|
|||
|
|
used shotgun shell.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch lowers the sword and hangs back. Not a word, until:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
You okay?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MARSELLUS
|
|||
|
|
Naw man. I'm pretty fuckin' far from
|
|||
|
|
okay!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Long pause.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
What now?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MARSELLUS
|
|||
|
|
What now? Well let me tell you what
|
|||
|
|
now. I'm gonna call a couple pipe-
|
|||
|
|
hittin' niggers, who'll go to work
|
|||
|
|
on homes here with a pair of pliers
|
|||
|
|
and a blow torch.
|
|||
|
|
(to Zed)
|
|||
|
|
Hear me talkin' hillbilly boy?! I
|
|||
|
|
ain't through with you by a damn
|
|||
|
|
sight. I'm gonna git 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 an' you. There
|
|||
|
|
is no me an' you. Not no more.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
So we're cool?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MARSELLUS
|
|||
|
|
Yeah man, we're cool. One thing I
|
|||
|
|
ask – two things I ask: Don't tell
|
|||
|
|
nobody about this. This shit's between
|
|||
|
|
me and you and the soon-to-be-livin'-
|
|||
|
|
the-rest-of-his-short-ass-life-in-
|
|||
|
|
agonizing-pain, Mr. Rapist here. It
|
|||
|
|
ain't nobody else's business. Two:
|
|||
|
|
leave town. Tonight. Right now. And
|
|||
|
|
when you're gone, stay gone. You've
|
|||
|
|
lost your Los Angeles privileges.
|
|||
|
|
Deal?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Deal.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The two men shake hands, then hug one another.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MARSELLUS
|
|||
|
|
Go on now, get your ass outta here.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch leaves Russell's old room through the red curtains.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Marsellus walks over to a phone, dialing a number.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MARSELLUS
|
|||
|
|
(into the phone)
|
|||
|
|
Hello Mr. Wolf, it's Marsellus. Gotta
|
|||
|
|
bit of a situation.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. MASON-DIXIE PAWNSHOP – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch, still shaking in his boots, exits the pawnshop. He
|
|||
|
|
looks ahead and sees, parked in front of the establishment,
|
|||
|
|
Zed's Big Chrome Chopper with a teardrop gas tank that has
|
|||
|
|
the name "GRACE" on it. He climbs aboard, takes out the keys
|
|||
|
|
with the big Z on them and starts up the huge hog. It RUMBLES
|
|||
|
|
to life, making sounds like a rocket fighting for orbit.
|
|||
|
|
Butch twists the accelerator handle and SPEEDS off.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
WE CUT BACK AND FORTH BETWEEN...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. BUTCH AND FABIENNE'S HOTEL ROOM – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Fabienne stands in front of a mirror wearing a "Frankie says,
|
|||
|
|
Relax" tee-shirt, singing along with MUSIC coming from a
|
|||
|
|
BOOM BOX.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. CITY STREET – CHOPPER (MOVING) – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch drives down the street, humping a hot hog named "GRACE."
|
|||
|
|
He checks his father's watch. It says: 10:30.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The SONG in the motel room PLAYS OVER this.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. MOTEL ROOM – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch rides up on Grace. He hops off and runs inside the
|
|||
|
|
motel room, while we stay outside with the bike.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
Butch, I was so worried!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Honey, grab your radio and your purse
|
|||
|
|
and let's go!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
But what about all our bags?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Fuck the bags. We'll miss our train
|
|||
|
|
if we don't split now.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
Is everything well? Are we in danger?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
We're cool. In fact, we're super-
|
|||
|
|
cool. But we gots to go. I'll wait
|
|||
|
|
for you outside.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch runs out and hops back on the bike. Fabienne exits the
|
|||
|
|
motel room with the boom box and a large purse. When she
|
|||
|
|
sees Butch on the chopper, she stops dead.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Where did you get this motorcycle?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
(he kick-starts it)
|
|||
|
|
It's a chopper, baby, hop on.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Fabienne slowly approaches the two-wheel demon.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
What happened to my Honda?
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Sorry baby, I crashed the Honda.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
You're hurt?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
I might've broke my nose, no biggie.
|
|||
|
|
Hop on.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She doesn't move.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch looks at her.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Honey, we gotta hit the fuckin' road!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Fabienne starts to cry.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Butch realizes that this is not the way to get her on the
|
|||
|
|
bike. He turns off the engine and reaches out, taking her
|
|||
|
|
hand.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
I'm sorry, baby-love.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
(crying)
|
|||
|
|
You were gone so long, I started to
|
|||
|
|
think dreadful thoughts.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
I'm sorry I worried you, sweetie.
|
|||
|
|
Everything's fine. Hey, how was
|
|||
|
|
breakfast?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
(waterworks drying a
|
|||
|
|
little)
|
|||
|
|
It was good –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
– did you get the blueberry pancakes?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
No, they didn't have blueberry
|
|||
|
|
pancakes, I had to get buttermilk –
|
|||
|
|
are you sure you're okay?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Baby-love, from the moment I left
|
|||
|
|
you, this has been without a doubt
|
|||
|
|
the single weirdest day of my entire
|
|||
|
|
life. Climb on an' I'll tell ya about
|
|||
|
|
it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Fabienne does climb on. Butch STARTS her up.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Butch, whose motorcycle is this?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
It's a chopper.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Whose chopper is this?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Zed's.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FABIENNE
|
|||
|
|
Who's Zed?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BUTCH
|
|||
|
|
Zed's dead, baby, Zed's dead.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
And with that, the two lovebirds PEEL AWAY on Grace, as the
|
|||
|
|
SONG on the BOOM BOX RISES.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FADE TO BLACK
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
TITLE CARD:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"JULES VINCENT JIMMIE & THE WOLF"
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
TITLE DISAPPEARS.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Over black, we can HEAR in the distance, men talking.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
You ever read the Bible, Brett?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BRETT (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
Yes!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
There's a passage I got memorized,
|
|||
|
|
seems appropriate for this situation:
|
|||
|
|
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..."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FADE UP:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. BATHROOM – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
We're in the bathroom of the Hollywood apartment we were in
|
|||
|
|
earlier. In fact, we're there at exactly the same time. Except
|
|||
|
|
this time, we're in the bathroom with the FOURTH MAN. The
|
|||
|
|
Fourth Man is pacing around the small room, listening hard
|
|||
|
|
to what's being said on the other side of the door, tightly
|
|||
|
|
CLUTCHING his huge silver .357 Magnum.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
"...blessed is he who, in the name
|
|||
|
|
of charity and good will, shepherded
|
|||
|
|
the weak through the valley of
|
|||
|
|
darkness. 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 I am the Lord when I
|
|||
|
|
lay my vengeance upon you."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
BANG! BANG! BOOM! POW! BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Fourth Man freaks out. He THROWS himself against the
|
|||
|
|
back wall, gun outstretched in front of him, a look of yellow
|
|||
|
|
fear on his face, ready to blow in half anybody fool enough
|
|||
|
|
to stick their head through that door.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Then he listens to them talk.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
Friend of yours?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
Yeah, Marvin-Vincent-Vincent-Marvin.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Waiting for them isn't the smartest move. Bursting out the
|
|||
|
|
door and blowing them all away while they're fuckin' around
|
|||
|
|
is the way to go.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. APARTMENT – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The bathroom door BURSTS OPEN and the Fourth Man CHARGES
|
|||
|
|
out, silver Magnum raised, FIRING SIX BOOMING SHOTS from his
|
|||
|
|
hand cannon.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FOURTH MAN
|
|||
|
|
Die... die... die... die...!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
DOLLY INTO Fourth Man, same as before.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He SCREAM until he's dry firing. Then a look of confusion
|
|||
|
|
crosses his face.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
TWO SHOT – JULES AND VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Standing next to each other, unharmed. Amazing as it seems,
|
|||
|
|
none of the Fourth Man's shots appear to have hit anybody.
|
|||
|
|
Jules and Vincent exchange looks like, "Are we hit?" They're
|
|||
|
|
as confused at the shooter. After looking at each other,
|
|||
|
|
they bring their looks up to the Fourth Man.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FOURTH MAN
|
|||
|
|
I don't understand –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Fourth Man is taken out of the scenario by the two men's
|
|||
|
|
bullets who, unlike his, HIT their marks. He drops DEAD.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The two men lower their guns. Jules, obviously shaken, sits
|
|||
|
|
down in a chair. Vincent, after a moment of respect, shrugs
|
|||
|
|
it off.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Then heads toward Marvin in the corner.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Why the fuck didn't you tell us about
|
|||
|
|
that guy in the bathroom? Slip your
|
|||
|
|
mind? Forget he was in there with a
|
|||
|
|
goddamn hand cannon?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
(to himself)
|
|||
|
|
We should be fuckin' dead right now.
|
|||
|
|
(pause)
|
|||
|
|
Did you see that gun he fired at us?
|
|||
|
|
It was bigger than him.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
.357.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
We should be fuckin' dead!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Yeah, we were lucky.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules rises, moving toward Vincent.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
That shit wasn't luck. That shit was
|
|||
|
|
somethin' else.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent prepares to leave.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Yeah, maybe.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
That was... divine intervention. You
|
|||
|
|
know what divine intervention is?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Yeah, I think so. That means God
|
|||
|
|
came down from Heaven and stopped
|
|||
|
|
the bullets.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Yeah, man, that's what is means.
|
|||
|
|
That's exactly what it means! God
|
|||
|
|
came down from Heaven and stopped
|
|||
|
|
the bullets.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I think we should be going now.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Don't do that! Don't you fuckin' do
|
|||
|
|
that! Don't blow this shit off!
|
|||
|
|
What just happened was a fuckin'
|
|||
|
|
miracle!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Chill the fuck out, Jules, this shit
|
|||
|
|
happens.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Wrong, wrong, this shit doesn't just
|
|||
|
|
happen.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Do you wanna continue this theological
|
|||
|
|
discussion in the car, or at the
|
|||
|
|
jailhouse with the cops?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
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?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. HOLLYWOOD APARTMENT BUILDING – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Chevy Nova PROPELS itself into traffic.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. NOVA (MOVING) – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules is behind the wheel,Vincent in the passenger seat and
|
|||
|
|
Marvin in the back.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
...Ever seen that show "COPS?" I
|
|||
|
|
was watchin' it once and this cop
|
|||
|
|
was on it who was talkin' about this
|
|||
|
|
time he got into this gun fight with
|
|||
|
|
a guy in a hallway. He unloads on
|
|||
|
|
this guy and he doesn't hit anything.
|
|||
|
|
And these guys were in a hallway.
|
|||
|
|
It's a freak, but it happens.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
If you wanna play blind man, then go
|
|||
|
|
walk with a Shepherd. But me, my
|
|||
|
|
eyes are wide fuckin' open.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
What the fuck does that mean?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
That's it for me. For here on in,
|
|||
|
|
you can consider my ass retired.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Jesus Christ!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Don't blaspheme!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Goddammit, Jules –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
– I said don't do that –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
– you're fuckin' freakin' out!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
I'm tellin' Marsellus today I'm
|
|||
|
|
through.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
While you're at it, be sure to tell
|
|||
|
|
'im why.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Don't worry, I will.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I'll bet ya ten thousand dollars, he
|
|||
|
|
laughs his ass off.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
I don't give a damn if he does.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent turns to the backseat with the .45 casually in his
|
|||
|
|
grip.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Marvin, what do you make of all this?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MARVIN
|
|||
|
|
I don't even have an opinion.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
C'mon, Marvin. Do you think God came
|
|||
|
|
down from Heaven and stopped the
|
|||
|
|
bullets?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent's .45 goes BANG!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Marvin is hit in the upper chest, below the throat. He GURGLES
|
|||
|
|
blood and SHAKES.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
What the fuck's happening?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I just accidentally shot Marvin in
|
|||
|
|
the throat.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Why the fuck did you do that?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I didn't mean to do it. I said it
|
|||
|
|
was an accident.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
I've seen a lot of crazy-ass shit in
|
|||
|
|
my time –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
– chill out, man, it was an accident,
|
|||
|
|
okay? You hit a bump or somethin'
|
|||
|
|
and the gun went off.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
The car didn't hit no motherfuckin'
|
|||
|
|
bump!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Look! I didn't mean to shoot this
|
|||
|
|
son-ofa-bitch, the gun just went
|
|||
|
|
off, don't ask me how!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Look at this mess! We're drivin'
|
|||
|
|
around on a city street in broad
|
|||
|
|
daylight –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
– I know, I know, I wasn't thinkin'
|
|||
|
|
about the splatter.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Well you better be thinkin' about it
|
|||
|
|
now, motherfucker! We gotta get this
|
|||
|
|
car off the road. Cops tend to notice
|
|||
|
|
shit like you're driving a car
|
|||
|
|
drenched in fuckin' blood.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Can't we just take it to a friendly
|
|||
|
|
place?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
This is the Valley, Vincent. Marsellus
|
|||
|
|
don't got no friendly places in the
|
|||
|
|
Valley.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Well, don't look at me, this is your
|
|||
|
|
town, Jules.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules takes out a cellular phone and starts punching digits.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Who ya callin'?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
A buddy of mine in Toluca Lake.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Where's Toluca Lake.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
On the other side of the hill, by
|
|||
|
|
Burbank Studios. If Jimmie's ass
|
|||
|
|
ain't home, I don't know what the
|
|||
|
|
fuck we're gonna go. I ain't got any
|
|||
|
|
other partners in 818.
|
|||
|
|
(into phone)
|
|||
|
|
Jimmie! How you doin' man, it's Jules.
|
|||
|
|
(pause)
|
|||
|
|
Listen up man, me an' my homeboy are
|
|||
|
|
in some serious shit. We're in a car
|
|||
|
|
we gotta get off the road, pronto! I
|
|||
|
|
need to use your garage for a couple
|
|||
|
|
hours.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. JIMMIE'S BATHROOM – DAY
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules is bent over a sink, washing his bloody hands while
|
|||
|
|
Vincent stands behind him.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
We gotta be real fuckin' delicate
|
|||
|
|
with this Jimmie's situation. He's
|
|||
|
|
one remark away from kickin' our
|
|||
|
|
asses out the door.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
If he kicks us out, whadda we do?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Well, we ain't leavin' 'til we made
|
|||
|
|
a couple phone calls. But I never
|
|||
|
|
want it to reach that pitch. Jimmie's
|
|||
|
|
my friend and you don't bust in your
|
|||
|
|
friend's house and start tellin' 'im
|
|||
|
|
what's what.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules rises and dries his hands. Vincent takes his place at
|
|||
|
|
the sink.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Just tell 'im not to be abusive. He
|
|||
|
|
kinda freaked out back there when he
|
|||
|
|
saw Marvin.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Put yourself in his position. It's
|
|||
|
|
eight o'clock in the morning. He
|
|||
|
|
just woke up, he wasn't prepared for
|
|||
|
|
this shit. Don't forget who's doin'
|
|||
|
|
who a favor.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent finishes, then dries his hands on a white towel.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
If the price of that favor is I gotta
|
|||
|
|
take shit, he can stick his favor
|
|||
|
|
straight up his ass.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
When Vincent is finished drying his hands, the towel is
|
|||
|
|
stained with red.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
What the fuck did you just do to his
|
|||
|
|
towel?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I was just dryin' my hands.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
You're supposed to wash 'em first.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
You watched me wash 'em.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
I watched you get 'em wet.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I washed 'em. Blood's real hard to
|
|||
|
|
get off. Maybe if he had some Lava,
|
|||
|
|
I coulda done a better job.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
I used the same soap you did and
|
|||
|
|
when I dried my hands, the towel
|
|||
|
|
didn't look like a fuckin' Maxie
|
|||
|
|
pad. Look, fuck it, alright. Who
|
|||
|
|
cares? But it's shit like this that's
|
|||
|
|
gonna bring this situation to a boil.
|
|||
|
|
If he were to come in here and see
|
|||
|
|
that towel like that... I'm tellin'
|
|||
|
|
you Vincent, you best be cool. 'Cause
|
|||
|
|
if I gotta get in to it with Jimmie
|
|||
|
|
on account of you... Look, I ain't
|
|||
|
|
threatenin' you, I respect you an'
|
|||
|
|
all, just don't put me in that
|
|||
|
|
position.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Jules, you ask me nice like that, no
|
|||
|
|
problem. He's your friend, you handle
|
|||
|
|
him.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. JIMMIE'S KITCHEN – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Three men are standing in Jimmie's kitchen, each with a mug
|
|||
|
|
of coffee. Jules, Vincent and JIMMIE DIMMICK, a young man in
|
|||
|
|
his late 20s dressed in a bathrobe.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Goddamn Jimmie, this is some serious
|
|||
|
|
gourmet shit. Me an' Vincent woulda
|
|||
|
|
been satisfied with freeze-dried
|
|||
|
|
Tasters Choice. You spring this
|
|||
|
|
gourmet fuckin' shit on us. What
|
|||
|
|
flavor is this?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
Knock it off, Julie.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
What?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
I'm not a cobb or corn, so you can
|
|||
|
|
stop butterin' me up. I don't need
|
|||
|
|
you to tell me how good my coffee
|
|||
|
|
is. I'm the one who buys it, I know
|
|||
|
|
how fuckin' good it is. When Bonnie
|
|||
|
|
goes shoppin;, she buys shit. I buy
|
|||
|
|
the gourmet expensive stuff 'cause
|
|||
|
|
when I drink it, I wanna taste it.
|
|||
|
|
But what's on my mind at this moment
|
|||
|
|
isn't the coffee in my kitchen, it's
|
|||
|
|
the dead nigger in my garage.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Jimmie –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
– I'm talkin'. Now let me ask you a
|
|||
|
|
question, Jules. When you drove in
|
|||
|
|
here, did you notice a sign out front
|
|||
|
|
that said, "Dead nigger storage?"
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules starts to "Jimmie" him –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
– answer to question. Did you see a
|
|||
|
|
sign out in front of my house that
|
|||
|
|
said, "Dead nigger storage?"
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
(playing along)
|
|||
|
|
Naw man, I didn't.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
You know why you didn't see that
|
|||
|
|
sign?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Why?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
'Cause storin' dead niggers ain't my
|
|||
|
|
fuckin' business!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules starts to "Jimmie" him.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
– I ain't through! Now don't you
|
|||
|
|
understand that if Bonnie comes home
|
|||
|
|
and finds a dead body in her house,
|
|||
|
|
I'm gonna get divorced. No marriage
|
|||
|
|
counselor, no trial separation –
|
|||
|
|
fuckin' divorced. And I don't wanna
|
|||
|
|
get fuckin' divorced. The last time
|
|||
|
|
me an' Bonnie talked about this shit
|
|||
|
|
was gonna be the last time me an'
|
|||
|
|
Bonnie talked about this shit. Now I
|
|||
|
|
wanna help ya out Julie, I really
|
|||
|
|
do. But I ain't gonna lose my wife
|
|||
|
|
doin' it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Jimmie –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
– don't fuckin' Jimmie me, man, I
|
|||
|
|
can't be Jimmied. There's nothin'
|
|||
|
|
you can say that's gonna make me
|
|||
|
|
forget I love my wife. Now she's
|
|||
|
|
workin' the graveyard shift at the
|
|||
|
|
hospital. She'll be comin' home in
|
|||
|
|
less than an hour and a half. Make
|
|||
|
|
your phone calls, talk to your people,
|
|||
|
|
than get the fuck out of my house.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
That's all we want. We don't wanna
|
|||
|
|
fuck up your shit. We just need to
|
|||
|
|
call our people to bring us in.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
Then I suggest you get to it. Phone's
|
|||
|
|
in my bedroom.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. MARSELLUS WALLACE'S DINING ROOM – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Marsellus Wallace sits at his dining table in a big comfy
|
|||
|
|
robe, eating his large breakfast, while talking on the phone.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MARSELLUS
|
|||
|
|
...well, say she comes home. Whaddya
|
|||
|
|
think she'll do?
|
|||
|
|
(pause)
|
|||
|
|
No fuckin' shit she'll freak. That
|
|||
|
|
ain't no kinda answer. You know 'er,
|
|||
|
|
I don't. How bad, a lot or a little?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. JIMMIE'S BEDROOM – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules paces around in Jimmie's bedroom on the phone.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
You got to appreciate what an
|
|||
|
|
explosive element this Bonnie
|
|||
|
|
situation is. If she comes home from
|
|||
|
|
a hard day's work and finds a bunch
|
|||
|
|
of gangsters doin' a bunch of gangsta'
|
|||
|
|
shit in her kitchen, ain't no tellin'
|
|||
|
|
what she's apt to do.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MARSELLUS
|
|||
|
|
I've grasped that, Jules. All I'm
|
|||
|
|
doin' is contemplating the "ifs."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
I don't wanna hear about no
|
|||
|
|
motherfuckin' "ifs."What I wanna
|
|||
|
|
hear from your ass is: "you ain't
|
|||
|
|
got no problems, Jules. I'm on the
|
|||
|
|
motherfucker. Go back in there, chill
|
|||
|
|
them niggers out and wait for the
|
|||
|
|
cavalry, which should be comin'
|
|||
|
|
directly."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MARSELLUS
|
|||
|
|
You ain't got no problems, Jules.
|
|||
|
|
I'm on the motherfucker. Go back in
|
|||
|
|
there, chill them niggers out and
|
|||
|
|
wait for The Wolf, who should be
|
|||
|
|
comin' directly.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
You sendin' The Wolf?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MARSELLUS
|
|||
|
|
Feel better?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Shit Negro, that's all you had to
|
|||
|
|
say.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. HOTEL SUITE – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The CAMERA looks through the bedroom doorway of a hotel suite
|
|||
|
|
into the main area. We SEE a crap game being played on a
|
|||
|
|
fancy crap table by GAMBLERS in tuxedos and LUCKY LADIES in
|
|||
|
|
fancy evening gowns. The CAMERA PANS to the right revealing:
|
|||
|
|
Sitting on a bed, phone in hand with his back to us, the
|
|||
|
|
tuxedo-clad WINSTON WOLF aka "THE WOLF". We also see The
|
|||
|
|
Wolf has a small notepad that he jots details in.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
(into phone)
|
|||
|
|
Is she the hysterical type?
|
|||
|
|
(pause)
|
|||
|
|
When she due?
|
|||
|
|
(jotting down)
|
|||
|
|
Give me the principals' names again?
|
|||
|
|
(jots down)
|
|||
|
|
Jules...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
We SEE his book. The page has written on it:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"1265 Riverside Drive Toluca Lake 1 body (no head)
|
|||
|
|
Bloody shot-up car Jules (black)"
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
...Vincent... Jimmie... Bonnie...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
HE WRITES:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"Vincent (Dean Martin) Jimmie (house) Bonnie (9:30)"
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Expect a call around 10:30. It's
|
|||
|
|
about thirty minutes away. I'll be
|
|||
|
|
there in ten.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He hangs up. We never see his face.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CUT TO:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
TITLE CARD OVER BLACK:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"NINE MINUTES AND THIRTY-SEVEN SECONDS LATER"
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
CUT TO:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. JIMMIE'S STREET – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
A silver Porsche WHIPS the corner leading to Jimmie's home,
|
|||
|
|
in HYPER DRIVE. Easily doing 135 mph, the Porsche stops on a
|
|||
|
|
dime in front of Jimmie's house.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
A ringed finger touches the doorbell: DING DONG.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. JIMMIE'S HOUSE – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jimmie opens the door. We see, standing in the doorway, the
|
|||
|
|
tuxedo-clad man. He looks down to his notebook, then up at
|
|||
|
|
Jimmie.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
You're Jimmie, right? This is your
|
|||
|
|
house?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
Yeah.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
(stick his hand out)
|
|||
|
|
I'm Winston Wolf, I solve problems.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
Good, 'cause we got one.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
So I heard. May I come in?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
Please do.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
In the dining room, Jules and Vincent stand up.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
You must be Jules, which would make
|
|||
|
|
you Vincent. Let's get down to brass
|
|||
|
|
tacks, gentlemen. If I was informed
|
|||
|
|
correctly, the clock is ticking, is
|
|||
|
|
that right, Jimmie?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
100%.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Your wife, Bonnie...
|
|||
|
|
(refers to his pad)
|
|||
|
|
...comes home at 9:30 in the AM, is
|
|||
|
|
that correct?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
Uh-huh.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
I was led to believe if she comes
|
|||
|
|
home and finds us here, she wouldn't
|
|||
|
|
appreciate it none too much.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
She won't at that.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
That gives us forty minutes to get
|
|||
|
|
the fuck outta Dodge, which, if you
|
|||
|
|
do what I say when I say it, should
|
|||
|
|
by plenty. Now you got a corpse in a
|
|||
|
|
car, minus a head, in a garage. Take
|
|||
|
|
me to it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. JIMMIE'S GARAGE – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The three men hang back as The Wolf examines the car. He
|
|||
|
|
studies the car in silence, opening the door, looking inside,
|
|||
|
|
circling it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Jimmie?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
Yes.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Do me a favor, will ya? Thought I
|
|||
|
|
smelled some coffee in there. Would
|
|||
|
|
you make me a cup?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
Sure, how do you take it?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Lotsa cream, lotsa sugar.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jimmie exists. The Wolf continues his examination.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
About the car, is there anything I
|
|||
|
|
need to know? Does it stall, does it
|
|||
|
|
make a lot of noise, does it smoke,
|
|||
|
|
is there gas in it, anything?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Aside from how it looks, the car's
|
|||
|
|
cool.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Positive? Don't get me out on the
|
|||
|
|
road and I find out the brake lights
|
|||
|
|
don't work.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Hey man, as far as I know, the
|
|||
|
|
motherfucker's tip-top.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Good enough, let's go back to the
|
|||
|
|
kitchen.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. KITCHEN – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jimmie hands The Wolf a cup of coffee.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Thank you, Jimmie.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He takes a sip, then, pacing as he thinks, lays out for the
|
|||
|
|
three men the plan of action.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Okay first thing, you two.
|
|||
|
|
(meaning Jules and
|
|||
|
|
Vincent)
|
|||
|
|
Take the body, stick it in the trunk.
|
|||
|
|
Now Jimmie, this looks to be a pretty
|
|||
|
|
domesticated house. That would lead
|
|||
|
|
me to believe that in the garage or
|
|||
|
|
under the sink, you got a bunch of
|
|||
|
|
cleansers and cleaners and shit like
|
|||
|
|
that, am I correct?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
Yeah. Exactly. Under the sink.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Good. What I need you two fellas to
|
|||
|
|
do is take those cleaning products
|
|||
|
|
and clean the inside of the car. And
|
|||
|
|
I'm talkin' fast, fast, fast. You
|
|||
|
|
need to go in the backseat, scoop up
|
|||
|
|
all those little pieces of brain and
|
|||
|
|
skull. Get it out of there. Wipe
|
|||
|
|
down the upholstery – now when it
|
|||
|
|
comes to upholstery, it don't need
|
|||
|
|
to be spic and span, you don't need
|
|||
|
|
to eat off it. Give it a good once
|
|||
|
|
over. What you need to take care of
|
|||
|
|
are the really messy parts. The pools
|
|||
|
|
of blood that have collected, you
|
|||
|
|
gotta soak that shit up. But the
|
|||
|
|
windows are a different story. Them
|
|||
|
|
you really clean. Get the Windex, do
|
|||
|
|
a good job. Now Jimmie, we need to
|
|||
|
|
raid your linen closet. I need
|
|||
|
|
blankets, I need comforters, I need
|
|||
|
|
quilts, I need bedspreads. The thicker
|
|||
|
|
the better, the darker the better.
|
|||
|
|
No whites, can't use 'em. We need to
|
|||
|
|
camouflage the interior of the car.
|
|||
|
|
We're gonna line the front seat and
|
|||
|
|
the backseat and the floor boards
|
|||
|
|
with quilts and blankets. If a cop
|
|||
|
|
stops us and starts stickin' his big
|
|||
|
|
snout in the car, the subterfuge
|
|||
|
|
won't last. But at a glance, the car
|
|||
|
|
will appear to be normal. Jimmie –
|
|||
|
|
lead the way, boys – get to work.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Wolf and Jimmie turn, heading for the bedroom, leaving
|
|||
|
|
Vincent and Jules standing in the kitchen.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
(calling after him)
|
|||
|
|
A "please" would be nice.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Wolf stops and turns around.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Come again?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I said a "please" would be nice.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Wolf takes a step toward him.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Set is straight, Buster. I'm not
|
|||
|
|
here to say "please."I'm here to
|
|||
|
|
tell you want to do. And if self-
|
|||
|
|
preservation is an instinct you
|
|||
|
|
possess, you better fuckin' do it
|
|||
|
|
and do it quick. I'm here to help.
|
|||
|
|
If my help's not appreciated, lotsa
|
|||
|
|
luck gentlemen.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
It ain't that way, Mr. Wolf. Your
|
|||
|
|
help is definitely appreciated.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I don't mean any disrespect. I just
|
|||
|
|
don't like people barkin' orders at
|
|||
|
|
me.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
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.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. JIMMIE'S BEDROOM – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jimmie's gathering all the bedspreads, quilts and linen he
|
|||
|
|
has.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Wolf is on the phone.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
(into phone)
|
|||
|
|
It's a 1974 Chevy Nova.
|
|||
|
|
(pause)
|
|||
|
|
White.
|
|||
|
|
(pause)
|
|||
|
|
Nothin', except for the mess inside.
|
|||
|
|
(pause)
|
|||
|
|
About twenty minutes.
|
|||
|
|
(pause)
|
|||
|
|
Nobody who'll be missed.
|
|||
|
|
(pause)
|
|||
|
|
You're a good man, Joe. See ya soon.
|
|||
|
|
(he looks at Jimmie)
|
|||
|
|
How we comin', Jimmie?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jimmie comes over with a handful of linen.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
Mr. Wolf, you gotta understand
|
|||
|
|
somethin' –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
– Winston, Jimmie – please, Winston.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
You gotta understand something,
|
|||
|
|
Winston. I want to help you guys out
|
|||
|
|
and all, but that's my best linen.
|
|||
|
|
It was a wedding present from my
|
|||
|
|
Uncle Conrad and Aunt Ginny, and
|
|||
|
|
they ain't with us anymore –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
– let me ask you a question, if you
|
|||
|
|
don't mind?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
Sure.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Were you Uncle Conrad and Aunt Ginny
|
|||
|
|
millionaires?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
No.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Well, your Uncle Marsellus is. And
|
|||
|
|
I'm positive if Uncle Conrad and
|
|||
|
|
Aunt Ginny were millionaires, they
|
|||
|
|
would've furnished you with a whole
|
|||
|
|
bedroom set, which your Uncle
|
|||
|
|
Marsellus is more than happy to do.
|
|||
|
|
(takes out a roll of
|
|||
|
|
bills)
|
|||
|
|
I like oak myself, that's what's in
|
|||
|
|
my bedroom. How 'bout you Jimmie,
|
|||
|
|
you an oak man?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
Oak's nice.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. GARAGE – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Both Jules and Vincent are inside the car cleaning it up.
|
|||
|
|
Vincent is in the front seat washing windows, while Jules is
|
|||
|
|
in the backseat, picking up little pieces of skull and gobs
|
|||
|
|
of brain.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Both are twice as bloody as they were before.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
I will never forgive your ass for
|
|||
|
|
this shit. This is some fucked-up
|
|||
|
|
repugnant shit!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Did you ever hear the philosophy
|
|||
|
|
that once a man admits he's wrong,
|
|||
|
|
he's immediately forgiven for all
|
|||
|
|
wrong-doings?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Man, get outta my face with that
|
|||
|
|
shit! The motherfucker who said that
|
|||
|
|
never had to pick up itty-bitty pieces
|
|||
|
|
of skull with his fingers on account
|
|||
|
|
of your dumb ass.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I got a threshold, Jules. I got a
|
|||
|
|
threshold for the abuse I'll take.
|
|||
|
|
And you're crossin' it. I'm a race
|
|||
|
|
car and you got me in the red. Redline
|
|||
|
|
7000, that's where you are. Just
|
|||
|
|
know, it's fuckin' dangerous to be
|
|||
|
|
drivin' a race car when it's in the
|
|||
|
|
red. It could blow.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
You're gettin' ready to blow? I'm a
|
|||
|
|
mushroom-cloud-layin' motherfucker!
|
|||
|
|
Every time my fingers touch brain
|
|||
|
|
I'm "SUPERFLY T.N.T," I'm the "GUNS
|
|||
|
|
OF NAVARONE." I'm what Jimmie Walker
|
|||
|
|
usta talk about. In fact, what the
|
|||
|
|
fuck am I doin' in the back? You're
|
|||
|
|
the motherfucker should be on brain
|
|||
|
|
detail. We're tradin'. I'm washin'
|
|||
|
|
windows and you're pickin' up this
|
|||
|
|
nigger's skull.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. CHEVY NOVA – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The interior of the car has been cleaned and lined with
|
|||
|
|
bedspreads and quilts. Believe it or not, what looked like a
|
|||
|
|
portable slaughterhouse can actually pass for a non-descript
|
|||
|
|
vehicle.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Wolf circles the car examining it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules and Vincent stand aside, their clothes are literally a
|
|||
|
|
bloody mess, but they do have a sense of pride in what a
|
|||
|
|
good job they've done.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Fine job, gentlemen. We may get out
|
|||
|
|
of this yet.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
I can't believe that's the same car.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Well, let's not start suckin' each
|
|||
|
|
other's dicks quite yet. Phase one
|
|||
|
|
is complete, clean the car, which
|
|||
|
|
moves us right along to phase two,
|
|||
|
|
clean you two.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. JIMMIE'S BACKYARD – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules and Vincent stand side by side in their black suits,
|
|||
|
|
covered in blood, in Jimmie's backyard. Jimmie holds a plastic
|
|||
|
|
Hefty trash bag, while The Wolf holds a garden hose with one
|
|||
|
|
of those guns nozzles attached.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Strip.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
All the way?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
To your bare ass.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
As they follow directions, The Wolf enjoys a smoke.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Quickly gentlemen, we got about
|
|||
|
|
fifteen minutes before Jimmie's better-
|
|||
|
|
half comes pulling into the driveway.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
This morning air is some chilly shit.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Are you sure this is absolutely
|
|||
|
|
necessary?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
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. Toss the clothes in Jim's
|
|||
|
|
garbage bag.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Now Jimmie, don't do nothin' stupid
|
|||
|
|
like puttin' that out in front of
|
|||
|
|
your house for Elmo the garbage man
|
|||
|
|
to take away.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Don't worry, we're takin' it with
|
|||
|
|
us. Jim, the soap.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He hands the now-naked men a bar of soap.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Okay gentlemen, you're both been to
|
|||
|
|
County before, I'm sure. Here it
|
|||
|
|
comes.
|
|||
|
|
{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He hits the trigger, water SHOOTS OUT, SMACKING both men.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Goddamn, that water's fuckin' cold!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Better you than me, gentlemen.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The two men, trembling, scrub themselves.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Don't be afraid of the soap, spread
|
|||
|
|
it around.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Wolf stops the hose, tossing it on the ground.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Towel 'em.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jimmie tosses them each a towel, which they rub furiously
|
|||
|
|
across their bodies.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
You're dry enough, give 'em their
|
|||
|
|
clothes.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FADE UP ON:
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES AND VINCENT In their tee-shirts and swim trunks. They
|
|||
|
|
look a million miles away from the black-suited, bad-asses
|
|||
|
|
we first met.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Perfect. Perfect. We couldn't've
|
|||
|
|
planned this better. You guys look
|
|||
|
|
like... what do they look like,
|
|||
|
|
Jimmie?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
Dorks. They look like a couple of
|
|||
|
|
dorks.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Wolf and Jimmie laugh.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Ha ha ha. They're your clothes,
|
|||
|
|
motherfucker.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JIMMIE
|
|||
|
|
I guess you just gotta know how to
|
|||
|
|
wear them.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Yeah, well, our asses ain't the expert
|
|||
|
|
on wearin' dorky shit that your is.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
C'mon, gentlemen, we're laughin' and
|
|||
|
|
jokin' our way into prison. Don't
|
|||
|
|
make me beg.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. JIMMIE'S GARAGE – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The garbage bag is tossed in the car trunk on top of Marvin.
|
|||
|
|
The Wolf SLAMS is closed.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Gentlemen, let's get our rules of
|
|||
|
|
the road straight. We're going to a
|
|||
|
|
place called Monster Joe's Truck and
|
|||
|
|
Tow. Monster Joe and his daughter
|
|||
|
|
Raquel are sympathetic to out dilemma.
|
|||
|
|
The place is North Hollywood, so a
|
|||
|
|
few twist and turns aside, we'll be
|
|||
|
|
goin' up Hollywood Way. Now I'll
|
|||
|
|
drive the tainted car. Jules, you
|
|||
|
|
ride with me. Vincent, you follow
|
|||
|
|
in my Porsche. Now if we cross the
|
|||
|
|
path of any John Q. Laws, nobody
|
|||
|
|
does a fuckin' thing 'til I do
|
|||
|
|
something.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
(TO JULES)
|
|||
|
|
What did I say?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Don't do shit unless –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
– unless what?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Unless you do it first.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Spoken like a true prodigy.
|
|||
|
|
(to Vincent)
|
|||
|
|
How 'bout you, Lash Larue? Can you
|
|||
|
|
keep your spurs from jingling and
|
|||
|
|
jangling?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I'm cool, Mr. Wolf. My gun just went
|
|||
|
|
off, I dunno how.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE WOLF
|
|||
|
|
Fair enough.
|
|||
|
|
(he throws Vince his
|
|||
|
|
car keys)
|
|||
|
|
I drive real fuckin' fast, so keep
|
|||
|
|
up. If I get my car back any different
|
|||
|
|
than I gave it, Monster Joe's gonna
|
|||
|
|
be disposing of two bodies.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
EXT. MONSTER JOE'S TRUCK AND TOW – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules and Vincent wait by Winston's Porsche.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
We cool?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
WINSTON
|
|||
|
|
Like it never happened.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules and Vincent bump fists.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
WINSTON
|
|||
|
|
Boys, this is Raquel. Someday, all
|
|||
|
|
this will be hers.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
RAQUEL
|
|||
|
|
(to the boys)
|
|||
|
|
Hi. You know, if they ever do "I
|
|||
|
|
SPY: THE MOTION PICTURE," you guys,
|
|||
|
|
I'd be great. What's with the
|
|||
|
|
outfits. You guys going to a
|
|||
|
|
volleyball game?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Winston laughs, the boys groan.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
WINSTON
|
|||
|
|
I'm takin' m'lady out to breakfast.
|
|||
|
|
Maybe I can drop you two off. Where
|
|||
|
|
do you live?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Redondo Beach.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Inglewood.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Winston grabs Jules' wrist and pantomimes like he's in a
|
|||
|
|
"DEAD ZONE" trance.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
WINSTON
|
|||
|
|
(painfully)
|
|||
|
|
It's your future: I see... a cab
|
|||
|
|
ride.
|
|||
|
|
(dropping the act)
|
|||
|
|
Sorry guys, move out of the sticks.
|
|||
|
|
(to Raquel)
|
|||
|
|
Say goodbye, Raquel.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
RAQUEL
|
|||
|
|
Goodbye, Raquel.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
WINSTON
|
|||
|
|
I'll see you two around, and stay
|
|||
|
|
outta trouble, you crazy kids.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Winston turns to leave.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Mr. Wolf.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He turns around.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
I was a pleasure watchin' you work.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Wolf smiles.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
WINSTON
|
|||
|
|
Call me Winston.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He turns and banters with Raquel as they get in the Porsche.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
WINSTON
|
|||
|
|
You hear that, young lady? Respect.
|
|||
|
|
You could lean a lot from those two
|
|||
|
|
fine specimens. Respect for one's
|
|||
|
|
elders shows character.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
RAQUEL
|
|||
|
|
I have character.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
WINSTON
|
|||
|
|
Just because you are a character
|
|||
|
|
doesn't mean you have character.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
RAQUEL
|
|||
|
|
Oh you're so funny, oh you're so
|
|||
|
|
funny.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Porsche SHOOTS OFF down the road.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The two men left alone look at each other.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Wanna share a cab?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
You know I could go for some
|
|||
|
|
breakfast. Want to have breakfast
|
|||
|
|
with me?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Sure.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. COFFEE SHOP – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules and Vincent sit at a booth. In front of Vincent is a
|
|||
|
|
big stack of pancakes and sausages, which he eats with gusto.
|
|||
|
|
Jules, on the other hand, just has a cup of coffee and a
|
|||
|
|
muffin. He seems far away in thought. The Waitress pours a
|
|||
|
|
refill for both men,
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Thanks a bunch.
|
|||
|
|
(to Jules, who's
|
|||
|
|
nursing his coffee)
|
|||
|
|
Want a sausage?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Naw, I don't eat pork.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Are you Jewish?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
I ain't Jewish man, I just don't dig
|
|||
|
|
on swine.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Why not?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
They're filthy animals. I don't eat
|
|||
|
|
filthy animals.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Sausages taste good. Pork chops taste
|
|||
|
|
good.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
A sewer rat may taste like pumpkin
|
|||
|
|
pie. I'll never know 'cause even if
|
|||
|
|
it did, I wouldn't eat the filthy
|
|||
|
|
motherfucker. Pigs sleep and root in
|
|||
|
|
shit. That's a filthy animal. I don't
|
|||
|
|
wanna eat nothin' that ain't got
|
|||
|
|
enough sense to disregard its own
|
|||
|
|
feces.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
How about dogs? Dogs eat their own
|
|||
|
|
feces.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
I don't eat dog either.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Yes, but do you consider a dog to be
|
|||
|
|
a filthy animal?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
I wouldn't go so far as to call a
|
|||
|
|
dog filthy, but they're definitely
|
|||
|
|
dirty. But a dog's got personality.
|
|||
|
|
And personality goes a long way.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
So by that rationale, if a pig had a
|
|||
|
|
better personality, he's cease to be
|
|||
|
|
a filthy animal?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
We'd have to be talkin' 'bout one
|
|||
|
|
motherfuckin' charmin' pig. It'd
|
|||
|
|
have to be the Cary Grant of pigs.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The two men laugh.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Good for you. Lighten up a little.
|
|||
|
|
You been sittin' there all quiet.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
I just been sittin' here thinkin'.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
(mouthful of food)
|
|||
|
|
About what?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
The miracle we witnessed.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
The miracle you witnessed. I witnessed
|
|||
|
|
a freak occurrence.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Do you know that a miracle is?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
An act of God.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
What's an act of God?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I guess it's when God makes the
|
|||
|
|
impossible possible. And I'm sorry
|
|||
|
|
Jules, but I don't think what happened
|
|||
|
|
this morning qualifies.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Don't you see, Vince, that shit don't
|
|||
|
|
matter. You're judging this thing
|
|||
|
|
the wrong way. It's not about what.
|
|||
|
|
It could be God stopped the bullets,
|
|||
|
|
he changed Coke into Pepsi, he found
|
|||
|
|
my fuckin' car keys. You don't judge
|
|||
|
|
shit like this based on merit. Whether
|
|||
|
|
or not what we experienced was an
|
|||
|
|
according-to-Hoyle miracle is
|
|||
|
|
insignificant. What is significant
|
|||
|
|
is I felt God's touch, God got
|
|||
|
|
involved.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
But why?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
That's what's fuckin' wit' me! I
|
|||
|
|
don't know why. But I can't go back
|
|||
|
|
to sleep.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
So you're serious, you're really
|
|||
|
|
gonna quit?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
The life, most definitely.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent takes a bite of food. Jules takes a sip of coffee In
|
|||
|
|
the b.g., we see a PATRON call the Waitress.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PATRON
|
|||
|
|
Garcon! Coffee!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
We recognize the patron to be Pumpkin from the first scene
|
|||
|
|
of Pumpkin and Honey Bunny.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
So if you're quitting the life,
|
|||
|
|
what'll you do?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
That's what I've been sitting here
|
|||
|
|
contemplating. First, I'm gonna
|
|||
|
|
deliver this case to Marsellus. Then,
|
|||
|
|
basically, I'm gonna walk the earth.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
What do you mean, walk the earth?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
You know, like Caine in "KUNG FU."
|
|||
|
|
Just walk from town to town, meet
|
|||
|
|
people, get in adventures.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
How long do you intend to walk the
|
|||
|
|
earth?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Until God puts me where he want me
|
|||
|
|
to be.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
What if he never does?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
If it takes forever, I'll wait
|
|||
|
|
forever.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
So you decided to be a bum?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
I'll just be Jules, Vincent – no
|
|||
|
|
more, no less.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
No Jules, you're gonna be like those
|
|||
|
|
pieces of shit out there who beg for
|
|||
|
|
change. They walk around like a bunch
|
|||
|
|
of fuckin' zombies, they sleep in
|
|||
|
|
garbage bins, they eat what I throw
|
|||
|
|
away, and dogs piss on 'em. They got
|
|||
|
|
a word for 'em, they're called bums.
|
|||
|
|
And without a job, residence, or
|
|||
|
|
legal tender, that's what you're
|
|||
|
|
gonna be – a fuckin' bum!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Look my friend, this is just where
|
|||
|
|
me and you differ –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
– what happened was peculiar – no
|
|||
|
|
doubt about it – but it wasn't water
|
|||
|
|
into wine.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
All shapes and sizes, Vince.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Stop fuckin' talkin' like that!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
If you find my answers frightening,
|
|||
|
|
Vincent, you should cease askin'
|
|||
|
|
scary questions.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I gotta take a shit. To be continued.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent exits for the restroom.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules, alone, takes a mouthful of muffin, then... Pumpkin
|
|||
|
|
and Honey Bunny rise with guns raised.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
Everybody be cool, this is a robbery!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
HONEY BUNNY
|
|||
|
|
Any of you fuckin' pricks move and
|
|||
|
|
I'll execute every one of you
|
|||
|
|
motherfuckers! Got that?!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules looks up, not believing what he's seeing. Under the
|
|||
|
|
table, Jules' hand goes to his .45 Automatic. He pulls it
|
|||
|
|
out, COCKING IT.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
Customers stay seated, waitresses on
|
|||
|
|
the floor.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
HONEY BUNNY
|
|||
|
|
Now mean fuckin' now! Do it or die,
|
|||
|
|
do it or fucking die!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Like lightning, Pumpkin moves over to the kitchen. While
|
|||
|
|
Honey Bunny SCREAMS out threats to the PATRONS, keeping them
|
|||
|
|
terrified.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
You Mexicans in the kitchen, get out
|
|||
|
|
here! Asta luego!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Three COOKS and two BUSBOYS come out of the kitchen.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
On the floor or I'll cook you ass,
|
|||
|
|
comprende?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
They comprende. The portly MANAGER speaks up.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MANAGER
|
|||
|
|
I'm the manager here, there's no
|
|||
|
|
problem, no problem at all –
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Pumpkin heads his way.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
You're gonna give me a problem?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He reaches him and sticks the barrel of his gun hard in the
|
|||
|
|
Manager's neck.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
What? You said you're gonna give me
|
|||
|
|
a problem?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MANAGER
|
|||
|
|
No, I'm not. I'm not gonna give you
|
|||
|
|
any problem!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
I don't know, Honey Bunny. He looks
|
|||
|
|
like the hero type to me!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
HONEY BUNNY
|
|||
|
|
Don't take any chances. Execute him!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Patrons SCREAM. Jules watches all this silently, his
|
|||
|
|
hand tightly gripping the .45 Automatic under the table.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MANAGER
|
|||
|
|
Please don't! I'm not a hero. I'm
|
|||
|
|
just a coffee shop manager. Take
|
|||
|
|
anything you want.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
Tell everyone to cooperate and it'll
|
|||
|
|
be all over.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MANAGER
|
|||
|
|
Everybody just be calm and cooperate
|
|||
|
|
with them and this will be all over
|
|||
|
|
soon!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
Well done, now git your fuckin' ass
|
|||
|
|
on the ground.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. COFFEE SHOP BATHROOM – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent, on the toilet, oblivious to the pandemonium outside,
|
|||
|
|
reads his "MODESTY BLAISE" book.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
INT. COFFEE SHOP – MORNING
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Cash register drawer opens. Pumpkin stuffs the money from
|
|||
|
|
the till in his pocket. Then walks from behind the counter
|
|||
|
|
with a trash bag in his hand.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
Okay people, I'm going to go 'round
|
|||
|
|
and collect your wallets. Don't talk,
|
|||
|
|
just toss 'em in the bag. We clear?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Pumpkin goes around collecting wallets. Jules sits with his
|
|||
|
|
.45 ready to spit under the table.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Pumpkin sees Jules sitting in his booth, holding his wallet,
|
|||
|
|
briefcase next to him. Pumpkin crosses to him, his tone more
|
|||
|
|
respectful, him manner more on guard.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
In the bag.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules DROPS his wallet in the bag. Using his gun as a pointer,
|
|||
|
|
Pumpkin points to the briefcase.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
What's in that?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
My boss' dirty laundry.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
You boss makes you do his laundry?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
When he wants it clean.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
Sounds like a shit job.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Funny, I've been thinkin' the same
|
|||
|
|
thing.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
Open it up.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules' free hand lays palm flat on the briefcase.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
'Fraid I can't do that.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Pumpkin is definitely surprised by his answer. He aims the
|
|||
|
|
gun right in the middle of Jules' face and pulls back the
|
|||
|
|
hammer.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
I didn't hear you.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Yes, you did.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
This exchange has been kind of quiet, not everybody heard
|
|||
|
|
it, but Honey Bunny senses something's wrong.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
HONEY BUNNY
|
|||
|
|
What's goin' on?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
Looks like we got a vigilante in our
|
|||
|
|
midst.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
HONEY BUNNY
|
|||
|
|
Shoot 'em in the face!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
I don't mean to shatter your ego,
|
|||
|
|
but this ain't the first time I've
|
|||
|
|
had gun pointed at me.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
You don't open up that case, it's
|
|||
|
|
gonna be the last.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
MANAGER
|
|||
|
|
(on the ground)
|
|||
|
|
Quit causing problems, you'll get us
|
|||
|
|
all killed! Give 'em what you got
|
|||
|
|
and get 'em out of here.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Keep your fuckin' mouth closed, fat
|
|||
|
|
man, this ain't any of your goddamn
|
|||
|
|
business!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
I'm countin' to three, and if your
|
|||
|
|
hand ain't off that case, I'm gonna
|
|||
|
|
unload right in your fuckin' face.
|
|||
|
|
Clear? One...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
...two... three.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
You win.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules raises his hand off the briefcase.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
It's all yours, Ringo.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
Open it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules flips the locks and opens the case, revealing it to
|
|||
|
|
Pumpkin but not to us. The same light SHINES from the case.
|
|||
|
|
Pumpkin's expression goes to amazement. Honey Bunny, across
|
|||
|
|
the room, can't see shit.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
HONEY BUNNY
|
|||
|
|
What is it? What is it?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
(softly)
|
|||
|
|
Is that what I think it is?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules nods his head: "yes."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
It's beautiful.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules nods his head: "yes."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
HONEY BUNNY
|
|||
|
|
Goddammit, what is it?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules SLAMS the case closed, then sits back, as if offering
|
|||
|
|
the case to Pumpkin. Pumpkin, one big smile, bends over to
|
|||
|
|
pick up the case.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Like a rattlesnake, Jules' free hand GRABS the wrist of
|
|||
|
|
Pumpkin's gun hand, SLAMMING it on the table. His other hand
|
|||
|
|
comes from under the table and STICKS the barrel of his .45
|
|||
|
|
hand under Pumpkin's chin.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Honey Bunny freaks out, waving her gun in Jules' direction.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
HONEY BUNNY
|
|||
|
|
Let him go! Let him go! I'll blow
|
|||
|
|
your fuckin' head off! I'll kill ya!
|
|||
|
|
I'll kill ya! You're gonna die, you're
|
|||
|
|
gonna fuckin' die bad!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
(to Pumpkin)
|
|||
|
|
Tell that bitch to be cool! Say,
|
|||
|
|
bitch be cool! Say, bitch be cool!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
Chill out, honey!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
HONEY BUNNY
|
|||
|
|
Let him go!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
(softly)
|
|||
|
|
Tell her it's gonna be okay.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
I'm gonna be okay.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Promise her.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
I promise.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Tell her to chill.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
Just chill out.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
What's her name?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
Yolanda.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Whenever Jules talks to Yolanda, he never looks at her, only
|
|||
|
|
at Pumpkin.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
(to Yolanda)
|
|||
|
|
So, we cool Yolanda? We ain't gonna
|
|||
|
|
do anything stupid, are we?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOLANDA
|
|||
|
|
(crying)
|
|||
|
|
Don't you hurt him.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Nobody's gonna hurt anybody. We're
|
|||
|
|
gonna be like three Fonzies. And
|
|||
|
|
what' Fonzie like?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
No answer.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
C'mon Yolanda, what's Fonzie like?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOLANDA
|
|||
|
|
(through tears, unsure)
|
|||
|
|
He's cool?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Correct-amundo! And that's what we're
|
|||
|
|
gonna be, we're gonna be cool.
|
|||
|
|
(to Pumpkin)
|
|||
|
|
Now Ringo, I'm gonna count to three
|
|||
|
|
and I want you to let go your gun
|
|||
|
|
and lay your palms flat on the table.
|
|||
|
|
But when you do it, do it cool. Ready?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Pumpkin looks at him.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
One... two... three.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Pumpkin lets go of his gun and places both hands on the table.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Yolanda can't stand it anymore.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOLANDA
|
|||
|
|
Okay, now let him go!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Yolanda, I thought you were gonna be
|
|||
|
|
cool. When you yell at me, it makes
|
|||
|
|
me nervous. When I get nervous, I
|
|||
|
|
get scared. And when motherfuckers
|
|||
|
|
get scared, that's when motherfuckers
|
|||
|
|
get accidentally shot.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOLANDA
|
|||
|
|
(more conversational)
|
|||
|
|
Just know: you hurt him, you die.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
That seems to be the situation. Now
|
|||
|
|
I don't want that and you don't want
|
|||
|
|
that and Ringo here don't want that.
|
|||
|
|
So let's see what we can do.
|
|||
|
|
(to Ringo)
|
|||
|
|
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.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT (O.S.)
|
|||
|
|
What the fuck's goin' on here?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Yolanda WHIPS her gun toward the stranger.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent, by the bathroom, has his gun out, dead-aimed at
|
|||
|
|
Yolanda.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
It's cool, Vincent! It's cool! Don't
|
|||
|
|
do a goddamn thing. Yolanda, it's
|
|||
|
|
cool baby, nothin's changed. We're
|
|||
|
|
still just talkin'.
|
|||
|
|
(to Pumpkin)
|
|||
|
|
Tell her we're still cool.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
It's cool, Honey Bunny, we're still
|
|||
|
|
cool.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
(gun raised)
|
|||
|
|
What the hell's goin' on, Jules?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Nothin' I can't handle. I want you
|
|||
|
|
to just hang back and don't do shit
|
|||
|
|
unless it's absolutely necessary.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Check.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Yolanda, how we doin, baby?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
YOLANDA
|
|||
|
|
I gotta go pee! I want to go home.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Just hang in there, baby, you're
|
|||
|
|
doing' great, Ringo's proud of you
|
|||
|
|
and so am I. It's almost over.
|
|||
|
|
(to Pumpkin)
|
|||
|
|
Now I want you to go in that bag and
|
|||
|
|
find my wallet.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
Which one is it?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
It's the one that says Bad
|
|||
|
|
Motherfucker on it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Pumpkin looks in the bag and – sure enough – there's a wallet
|
|||
|
|
with "Bad Motherfucker" embroidered on it.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
That's my bad motherfucker. Now open
|
|||
|
|
it up and take out the cash. How
|
|||
|
|
much is there?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
About fifteen hundred dollars.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Put it in your pocket, it's yours.
|
|||
|
|
Now with the rest of them wallets
|
|||
|
|
and the register, that makes this a
|
|||
|
|
pretty successful little score.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
Jules, if you give this nimrod fifteen
|
|||
|
|
hundred buck, I'm gonna shoot 'em on
|
|||
|
|
general principle.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
You ain't gonna do a goddamn thing,
|
|||
|
|
now hang back and shut the fuck up.
|
|||
|
|
Besides, I ain't givin' it to him.
|
|||
|
|
I'm buyin' somethin' for my money.
|
|||
|
|
Wanna know what I'm buyin' Ringo?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
What?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
Your life. I'm givin' you that money
|
|||
|
|
so I don't hafta kill your ass. You
|
|||
|
|
read the Bible?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
PUMPKIN
|
|||
|
|
Not regularly.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
There's a passage I got memorized.
|
|||
|
|
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 the 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 I am the
|
|||
|
|
Lord when I lay my vengeance upon
|
|||
|
|
you." 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 coldblooded thing to
|
|||
|
|
say to a motherfucker 'fore 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. .45 here, he's the
|
|||
|
|
shepherd protecting my righteous ass
|
|||
|
|
in the valley of darkness. Or is
|
|||
|
|
could by 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'. I'm tryin' real hard to
|
|||
|
|
be a shepherd.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules lowers his gun, lying it on the table.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Pumpkin looks at him, to the money in his hand, then to
|
|||
|
|
Yolanda.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She looks back.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Grabbing the trash bag full of wallets, the two RUN out the
|
|||
|
|
door.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jules, who was never risen from his seat the whole time,
|
|||
|
|
takes a sip of coffee.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
(to himself)
|
|||
|
|
It's cold.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He pushes it aside.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent appears next to Jules.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
VINCENT
|
|||
|
|
I think we oughta leave now.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
JULES
|
|||
|
|
That's probably a good idea.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Vincent throws some money on the table and Jules grabs the
|
|||
|
|
briefcase.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Then, to the amazement of the Patrons, the Waitresses, the
|
|||
|
|
Cooks, the Bus Boys, and the Manager, these two bad-ass dudes
|
|||
|
|
– wearing UC Santa Cruz and "I'm with Stupid" tee-shirts,
|
|||
|
|
swim trunks, thongs and packing .45 Automatics – walk out of
|
|||
|
|
the coffee shop together without saying a word.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
FADE OUT
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
THE END
|
|||
|
|
|