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: Will you hand me a towel, Miss Beautiful Tulip? Fabienne
: Ah, I like that. I like tulip. Tulip is much better than mongoloid.
: In the fifth, your ass goes down. Say it. Butch
: In the fifth, my ass goes down.
[after Butch saves Marsellus from rapists
: You okay? Marsellus
: Naw man. I'm pretty fuckin' far from okay. Butch
: What now? Marsellus
: What now? Let me tell you what now. I'ma call a coupla hard, pipe-hittin' niggers, who'll go to work on the homes here with a pair of pliers and a blow torch. You hear me talkin', hillbilly boy? I ain't through with you by a damn sight. I'ma get medieval on your ass. Butch
: I meant what now between me and you? Marsellus
: Oh, that what now. I tell you what now between me and you. There is no me and you. Not no more.
: So we cool? Marsellus
: Yeah, we cool. Two things. Don't tell nobody about this. This shit is between me, you, and Mr. Soon-To-Be-Living-The-Rest-of-His-Short-Ass-Life-In-Agonizing-Pain Rapist here. It ain't nobody else's business. Two: you leave town tonight, right now. And when you're gone, you stay gone, or you be gone. You lost all your L.A. privileges. Deal? Butch
: Deal. Marsellus
: Get your ass out of here.
[Butch comes up beside Vincent at the bar
: You lookin at something, friend? Vincent
: You ain't my friend, Palooka. Butch
: What's that? Vincent
: I think you heard me just fine, Punchy.
: I think I cracked a rib. Fabienne
: Giving me oral pleasure? Butch
: No, retard, from the fight.
: Whose motorcycle is this? Butch
: It's a chopper, baby. Fabienne
: Whose chopper is this? Butch
: It's Zed's. Fabienne
: Who's Zed? Butch
: Zed's dead, baby. Zed's dead.
: What is your name? Butch
: Butch. Esmeralda
: What does it mean? Butch
: I'm American, honey. Our names don't mean shit.
: That's how you're gonna beat 'em, Butch. They keep underestimating you.
: Where's my Honda? Butch
: Sorry, baby, but I had to crash that Honda.
: Did you bring the watch? Fabienne
: I believe so. Butch
: You believe so? You "believe" so? What the fuck does that mean? You either did, or you didn't! Fabienne
: Then I did. Butch
: Are you sure? Fabienne
: [shakes her head
: [explodes into a rampage
] Fuck! Motherfucking shit! Do you fucking know how fucking stupid you are? Shit! Fuck!
[he calms down just as quickly and suddenly as he started
: It's not your fault.
: Where's my watch? Fabienne
: It's there. Butch
: No it's not. Fabienne
: It should be. Butch
: Yes, it most definitely should be but it's not here now, so where the fuck is it?
: How was your breakfast? Fabienne
: It was good... Butch
: Did you get the pancakes, the blueberry pancakes? Fabienne
: No, no, they didn't have blueberry pancakes, I had to get buttermilk - are you sure you're okay? Butch
: Honey, since I left you, this has been without a doubt the single weirdest fucking day of my life! Come on, hop on - I'll tell you all about it.
: I'll be back before you can say Blueberry pie. Fabienne
: Blueberry pie. Butch
: Okay, maybe not that fast. But pretty fast, alright?
: 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.
: [driving back to his apartment after Fabienne forgot to get his watch
: Shit! Of all the fucking things she could forget, she forgets my father's watch!
: I specifically reminded her - bedside table! On the Kangaroo! I said the words, "Don't forget my father's watch."
: [Butch runs into Maynard's pawn shop being chased by Marsellus
] Can I help you with somethin'? Butch
: Shut the fuck up! Maynard
: Hey you just wait a god damn minute now! What the fuck you up to? Butch
: [Marsellus enters, Butch wrestle him to the floor then starts to punch him
] Come here motherfucker! Feel that sting, big boy? That's pride fucking with you! Gotta fight through that shit! Marsellus
: You better kill me! Butch
: [Brings up a gun
] Yeah, somebody gonna get killed. SOMEBODY GONNA GET THEIR FUCKING HEAD BLOWN OFF! Maynard
: [Points a shotgun at them
] Hold it right there, goddammit! Butch
: It's none of your business, mister! Maynard
: I'm making it my business. Toss the weapon. Butch
: You don't understand, man! Maynard
: Toss the weapon. Maynard
: [Butch throws the gun away
] Get yer foot of the nigger, put yer hands behind yer head and spproach the counter right now. Maynard
: [Hits Butch with the shotgun then makes a call
] Zed? It's Maynard. Yeah, spider just caught a couple of flies.
: I think I have a broken rib. Fabienne
: From giving me oral pleasure?
: [driving while Butch is in the back changing his clothes
] You killed the other boxing man. Butch
: [stops and looks at her
] He's dead? Esmeralda
: The radio said he was dead. Butch
: [silent for a second or two and then resumes changing, muttering
] Sorry about that, Floyd.