Pulp Fiction (1994) Poster


Bruce Willis: Butch Coolidge



  • Fabienne : 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.

  • Esmeralda : What is your name?

    Butch : Butch.

    Esmeralda : What does it mean?

    Butch : I'm American, honey. Our names don't mean shit.

  • [after Butch saves Marsellus from rapists] 

    Butch : 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.

  • 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 : 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] 

    Butch : 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.

  • Butch : I think I cracked a rib.

    Fabienne : Giving me oral pleasure?

    Butch : No, retard, from the fight.

  • Butch : [driving back to his apartment after Fabienne forgot to get his watch] 


    Butch : Shit! Of all the fucking things she could forget, she forgets my father's watch!

    [normal voice] 

    Butch : I specifically reminded her - bedside table! On the Kangaroo! I said the words, "Don't forget my father's watch."

  • Butch : I'll be back before you can say Blueberry pie.

    Fabienne : Blueberry pie.

    Butch : Okay, maybe not that fast. But pretty fast, alright?

  • Butch : 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?

  • Fabienne : Where's my Honda?

    Butch : Sorry, baby, but I had to crash that Honda.

  • Butch : That's how you're gonna beat 'em, Butch. They keep underestimating you.

  • Maynard : [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.

  • Butch : 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.

  • Butch : 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]  No...

    [a pause] 

    Butch : [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] 

    Butch : It's not your fault.

  • Butch : I think I have a broken rib.

    Fabienne : From giving me oral pleasure?

  • Butch : Will you hand me a towel, Miss Beautiful Tulip?

    Fabienne : Ah, I like that. I like tulip. Tulip is much better than mongoloid.

  • Marsellus : In the fifth, your ass goes down. Say it.

    Butch : In the fifth, my ass goes down.

  • Marsellus : I think you gonna find... when all this shit is over and done... I think you're gonna find yourself one smilin' motherfucker. The thing is, Butch, right now... you got ability. But painful as it may be, ability don't last. And your days are just about over. Now, that's a hard motherfuckin' fact of life. But that's a fact of life your ass is gonna have to get realistic about. You see, this business is filled to the brim with unrealistic motherfuckers. Motherfuckers who thought their ass would age like wine. If you mean it turns to Vinegar... it does. If you mean it gets better with age... it don't. Besides, Butch, how many fights you think you got in you anyway? Hm? Two? Boxers don't have an old-timers' day. You came close, but you never made it. And if you were gonna make it, you would have made it before now.

    [handles Butch an envelope with money] 

    Butch : [stretches out his hand for the envelope] 

    Marsellus : [pulls the envelope back]  You my nigger?

    Butch : Certainly appears so.

    [grabs the envelope, waits for Marsellus to release it and hides it bosom] 

  • Esmeralda : [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.

See also

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