НАЗВАНИЕ: Pulp Fiction (1994)
ГОД: 1994
СЦЕНАРИСТ: Quentin Tarantino and Roger Avary
ИСТОЧНИК: ScriptSlug (PDF) — https://www.scriptslug.com/script/pulp-fiction-1994
URL: https://assets.scriptslug.com/live/pdf/scripts/pulp-fiction-1994.pdf
СКАЧАНО: 2026-10-12 11:49
ПРИМЕЧАНИЕ: текст чужой, для личного изучения. Не распространять. Не исполнять.
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         PULP FICTION

              by

Quentin Tarantino & Roger Avary
PULP [pulp] n.

1. A soft, moist, shapeless
mass or matter.

2. A magazine or book containing lurid
subject matter and being characteristically
printed on rough, unfinished paper.

American Heritage Dictionary: New College Edition



INT. COFFEE SHOP – MORNING

A normal Denny's, Spires-like coffee shop in Los Angeles. It's
about 9:00 in the morning. While the place isn't jammed, there's a
healthy number of people drinking coffee, munching on bacon and
eating eggs.

Two of these people are a YOUNG MAN and a YOUNG WOMAN. The Young
Man has a slight working-class English accent and, like his fellow
countryman, smokes cigarettes like they're going out of style.

It is impossible to tell where the Young Woman is from or how old
she is; everything she does contradicts something she did. The boy
and girl sit in a booth. Their dialogue is to be said in a rapid-
pace "HIS GIRL FRIDAY" fashion.

                       YOUNG MAN
           No, forget it, it's too risky. I'm through
           doin' that shit.

                       YOUNG WOMAN
           You always say that, the same thing every
           time: never again, I'm through, too
           dangerous.

                       YOUNG MAN
           I know that's what I always say. I'm
           always right too, but –

                       YOUNG WOMAN
           – but you forget about it in a day or two
           –

                       YOUNG MAN
           – yeah, well, the days of me forgittin'
           are over, and the days of me rememberin'
           have just begun.

                       YOUNG WOMAN
           When you go on like this, you know what
           you sound like?

                       YOUNG MAN
           I sound like a sensible fucking man, is
           what I sound like.
                       YOUNG WOMAN
           You sound like a duck.
                    (imitates a duck)
           Quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack,
           quack...

                       YOUNG MAN
           Well take heart, 'cause you're never gonna
           hafta hear it again. Because since I'm
           never gonna do it again, you're never
           gonna hafta hear me quack about how I'm
           never gonna do it again.

                       YOUNG WOMAN
           After tonight.

The boy and girl laugh, their laughter putting a pause in there,
back and forth.

                       YOUNG MAN
                    (with a smile)
           Correct. I got all tonight to quack.

A WAITRESS comes by with a pot of coffee.

                       WAITRESS
           Can I get anybody anymore coffee?

                       YOUNG WOMAN
           Oh yes, thank you.

The Waitress pours the Young Woman's coffee. The Young Man lights
up another cigarette.

                       YOUNG MAN
           I'm doin' fine.

The Waitress leaves. The Young Man takes a drag off of his smoke.
The Young Woman pours a ton of cream and sugar into her coffee.

The Young Man goes right back into it.

                       YOUNG MAN
           I mean the way it is now, you're takin'
           the same fuckin' risk as when you rob a
           bank. You take more of a risk. Banks are
           easier! Federal banks aren't supposed to
           stop you anyway, during a robbery. They're
           insured, why should they care? You don't
           even need a gun in a federal bank. I heard
           about this guy, walked into a federal bank
           with a portable phone, handed the phone to
           the teller, the guy on the other end of
           the phone said: "We got this guy's little
           girl, and if you don't give him all your
           money, we're gonna kill 'er."

                       YOUNG WOMAN
           Did it work?
            YOUNG MAN
Fuckin' A it worked, that's what I'm
talkin' about! Knucklehead walks in a bank
with a telephone, not a pistol, not a
shotgun, but a fuckin' phone, cleans the
place out, and they don't lift a fuckin'
finger.

            YOUNG WOMAN
Did they hurt the little girl?

            YOUNG MAN
I don't know. There probably never was a
little girl – the point of the story isn't
the little girl. The point of the story is
they robbed the bank with a telephone.

            YOUNG WOMAN
You wanna rob banks?

            YOUNG MAN
I'm not sayin' I wanna rob banks, I'm just
illustrating that if we did, it would be
easier than what we been doin'.

            YOUNG WOMAN
So you don't want to be a bank robber?

            YOUNG MAN
Naw, all those guys are goin' down the
same road, either dead or servin' twenty.

            YOUNG WOMAN
And no more liquor stores?

            YOUNG MAN
What have we been talking about? Yeah, no-
more-liquor-stores. Besides, it ain't the
giggle it usta be. Too many foreigners own
liquor stores. 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 couldcut
              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 omelette, 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
           They 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 tires
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.

                       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.

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'sVINCENT, 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 bat 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.)
           Hand 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 ol'
           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 Not 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 ips 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 Omelette, 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."So 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 his 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 shyVincent, 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 world-
           famous 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 for 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

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 toMia)
           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 adrenalin shot?

                         LANCE
                       (dawning on him)
           Maybe.

                       VINCENT
           I need it man, I got a chick she's fuckin'
           ODing 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 insideLance's house, WE HEARVINCENT'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 adrenalin shot.

                       JODY
           What's wrong with her?

                       VINCENT
           She's ODing on us.

                       JODY
           Well get her the hell outta here!

                       LANCE ANDVINCENT
                  (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 adrenalin 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 joy-
           poppin' with bubble-gummers, all of
           myfriends 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 inMIA's body where her heart is.

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

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 if JOLTED from the impact.

The syringe plunger is pushed down, PUMPING the adrenalin 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:


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 ith 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
                    (MORE)
                       CAPT. KOONS (CONT'D)
           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's 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
           disentary, 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, Enghlish 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 excitment.

                          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's 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 baby-
talk.

                       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 I had 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 weaponary 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 pump-
action 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, Butxh 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 ist 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 Ken-
style, 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 dog 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?

                       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 VINCENTJIMMIE &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, shephered 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-of-
           a-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 give use 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 hand 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 cleaners 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
           in. 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
nossles 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 ANDVINCENT

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, out 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.
           What 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 exitsfor 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 head 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 his 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 appened 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 cold-
blooded 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.
         (MORE)
                       JULES (CONT'D)
           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
