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Post by dick on Jul 14, 2007 16:29:09 GMT -5
There's this passage I got memorized. Ezekiel 25:17. "The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the iniquities 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 my name is The Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee."[
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Post by dick on Jul 14, 2007 16:30:59 GMT -5
No, let me ask you a question. When you came pulling in here, did you see a sign out in front of my house that said Dead You are out of line, next time you are out of the game!Storage? Cause it ain't there, 'cause storing dead niggers ain't my fucking business, that's why!
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Post by dick on Jul 14, 2007 16:31:33 GMT -5
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: It's not, it's the same ballpark.
Jules: It ain't no fuckin' ballpark either. Now look, maybe your method of massage differs from mine, but you know, touchin' his wife's feet, and stickin' your tongue in her holiest of holies, ain't the same ballpark, it ain't the same league, it 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 and everything, I don't be tickling or nothin'.
Vincent:Would you give a guy a foot massage?
Jules: Fuck you.
Vincent: You give them a lot?
Jules: Fuck you.
Vincent: You know, I'm getting kinda tired, I could use a foot massage myself.
Jules: Yo yo yo man, you best back off, I'm gittin' pissed here. [...] Look, just 'cause I wouldn't give no man a foot massage don't make it right for Marsellus to throw Antoine into a glass motherfuckin' house fuckin' up the way the You are out of line, next time you are out of the game!talks. That shit ain't right. Motherfucker do that shit to me, he better paralyze my ass cuz I'll kill the motherfucker, you know what I'm sayin'?
Vincent: I ain't sayin' it's right. But you're sayin' a foot massage don't mean nothing, and I'm saying it does. Now look, I've given a million ladies a million foot massages, and they all meant something. We act like they don't, but they do, and that's what's so fucking cool about them. There's a sensuous thing going on where you don't talk about it, but you know it, she knows it, fucking Marsellus knew it, and Antoine should have fucking better known better. I mean, that's his fucking wife, man, he can't be expected to have a sense of humor about that shit. You know what I'm saying?
Jules: That's an interesting point.
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Post by dick on Jul 14, 2007 16:31:59 GMT -5
Jules: What does Marsellus Wallace look like?
Brett: What?
Jules: [Flips table out of the way] What country are you from?
Brett: What?
Jules: "What" ain't no country I ever heard of! They speak English in "What?!"
Brett: What?
Jules: English, motherfucker! Do you speak it?
Brett: Yes!
Jules: Then you know what I'm saying. Describe what Marsellus Wallace looks like!
Brett: What?
Jules: [Points gun at Brett] Say "what" again! Say - "what" - again! I dare you! I double-dare you, motherfucker! Say "what" one more goddamn time!
Brett: He's black.
Jules: Go on!
Brett: He's bald.
Jules: Does he look like a bitch?
Brett: What?
Jules: [Shoots Brett in the shoulder] Does he look like a bitch?
Brett: No!
Jules: Then why'd you try to fuck him like a bitch, Brett?
Brett: I didn't!
Jules: Yes, you did! Yes. You. Did, Brett! You tried to fuck him. And Marsellus Wallace don't like to be fucked by anybody except Mrs. Wallace. You read the Bible, Brett?
Brett: Yes!
Jules: Well, there's this passage I've got memorized that sort of fits this occasion. Ezekiel 25:17. "The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the iniquities of the selfish and the tyranny of the evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and goodwill, 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 thee!"[1] [Shoots Brett]
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Post by dick on Jul 14, 2007 16:33:26 GMT -5
Butch: So, what now?
Marsellus: What now? Let me tell you what now. I'ma call a couple of hard, pipe-hittin' niggas to go to work on homes here with a pair of pliers and a blowtorch. You hear me talkin' hillbilly boy? I ain't through with you by damn sight. I'ma get medieval on your ass.
Butch: I meant "what now" between you and me.
Marsellus: Oh, that "what now." I tell you "what now" between me and you. There IS no "me and you". Not no more. Two things: One, don't ever tell no one about this. This thing here is between me, you, and Mr. Soon-To-Be-Living-The-Rest-Of-His-Short-Ass-Life-In-Agonizing-Pain rapist here.Two, you leave town tonight, right now, and when you're gone, you STAY gone or you'll BE gone. You lost all your L.A. privileges. Deal?
Butch: Deal.
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Post by dick on Jul 14, 2007 16:34:45 GMT -5
I'm very sorry the government taxes their tips, that's fucked up. That ain't my fault. It would seem to me that waitresses are one of the many groups the government fucks in the ass on a regular basis. Look, if you ask me to sign something that says the government shouldn't do that, I'll sign it, put it to a vote, I'll vote for it, but what I won't do is play ball. And this non-college bullshit you're givin' me, I got two words for that: learn to fuckin' type, 'cause if you're expecting me to help out with the rent you're in for a big fuckin' surprise.
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Post by dick on Jul 14, 2007 16:35:48 GMT -5
Mr. Brown: O.K., let me tell you what Like a Virgin's about. It's all about this cooze who's a regular fuck machine, I'm talking morning, day, night, afternoon, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick.
Mr. Blue: How many dicks is that?
Mr. White: A lot.
Mr. Brown: Then one day she meets this John Holmes motherfucker and it's like, whoa baby, I mean this cat is like Charles Bronson in the Great Escape, he's digging tunnels. Now, she's gettin' the serious dick action and she's feeling something she ain't felt since forever. Pain. Pain. It hurts her. It shouldn't hurt her, you know her pussy should be Bubble Yum by now, but when this cat fucks her it hurts. It hurts just like it did the first time. You see the pain is reminding a fuck machine what it once was like to be a virgin. Hence, "Like a Virgin."
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Post by dick on Jul 14, 2007 16:36:08 GMT -5
Nice Guy Eddie: C'mon, throw in a buck!
Mr. Pink: Uh-uh, I don't tip.
Nice Guy Eddie: You don't tip?
Mr. Pink: I don't believe in it.
Nice Guy Eddie: You don't believe in tipping?
Mr. Blue: You know what these chicks make? They make shit.
Mr. Pink: Don't give me that. She don't make enough money, she can quit.
Nice Guy Eddie: I don't even know a fucking Jew who'd have the balls to say that. Let me get this straight: you never ever tip, huh?
Mr. Pink: I don't tip because society says I have to. Alright, I tip when somebody really deserves a tip. If they put forth an effort, I'll give them something extra. But I mean, this tipping automatically, that's for the birds. As far as I'm concerned they're just doing their job.
Mr. Blue: Hey, this girl was nice.
Mr. Pink: She was okay. But she wasn't anything special.
Mr. Blue: What's special? Take you in the back and suck your dick?
Nice Guy Eddie: I'd go over twelve percent for that.
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Post by dick on Jul 14, 2007 16:37:17 GMT -5
Nice Guy Eddie: Let me say this out loud, 'cause I wanna get it straight in my head. You're saying that Mr. Blonde was gonna kill you, then when we got back, he was going kill us, take the satchel of diamonds, and scram. I'm right about that, right? That's correct? That's your story?
Mr. Orange: I swear on my mother's eternal soul that's what happened.
Nice Guy Eddie: The man you just killed was just released from prison. He got caught at a company warehouse full of hot items. He could've fuckin' walked. All he had to do was say my dad's name, but he didn't; he kept his fucking mouth shut. And did his fuckin' time, and he did it like a man. He did four years for us. So, Mr. Orange, you're tellin' me this very good friend of mine, who did four years for my father, who in four years never made a deal, no matter what they dangled in front of him, you're telling me that now, that now this man is free, and we're making good on our commitment to him, he's just gonna decide, out of the fucking blue, to rip us off? Why don't you tell me what really happened?
Joe: [walks in] What the hell for? It'd just be more bullshit.
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