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/ Pulp Fiction

: / Pulp Fiction.

/ Pulp Fiction


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 could cut down on the hero factor.

YOUNG MAN Correct. Just like banks, these places are insured. The managers don't give a fuck, they're just tryin' to get ya out the door before you start pluggin' diners. Waitresses, forget it, they ain't takin' a bullet for the register. Busboys, some wetback gettin' paid a dollar fifty a hour gonna really give a fuck you're stealin' from the owner. Customers are sittin' there with food in their mouths, they don't know what's goin' on. One minute they're havin' a Denver omelet, next minute somebody's stickin' a gun in their face.

The Young Woman visibly takes in the idea. The Young Man continues in a low voice.

YOUNG MAN See, I got the idea last liquor store we stuck up. 'Member all those customers kept comin' in?


YOUNG MAN Then you got the idea to take everybody's wallet.


YOUNG MAN That was a good idea.


YOUNG MAN We made more from the wallets then we did the register.

YOUNG WOMAN Yes we did.

YOUNG MAN A lot of people go to restaurants.

YOUNG WOMAN A lot of wallets.

YOUNG MAN Pretty smart, huh?

The Young Woman scans the restaurant with this new information.

She sees all the PATRONS eating, lost in conversations. The tired WAITRESS, taking orders. The BUSBOYS going through the motions, collecting dishes. The MANAGER complaining to the COOK about something. A smiles breaks out on the Young Woman's face.

YOUNG WOMAN Pretty smart. (into it) I'm ready, let's go, right here, right now.

YOUNG MAN Remember, same as before, you're crowd control, I handle the employees.


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?





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?


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?


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!



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.



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?


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?


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.


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.


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.


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.


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?


JULES Yours is this one, right?


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?


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?


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?


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 flips the two locks, opening the case. We can't see what's inside, but a small glow emits from the case. Vincent just stares at it, transfixed.

JULES We happy?

No answer from the transfixed Vincent.

JULES Vincent!

Vincent looks up at Jules.

JULES We happy?

Closing the case.

VINCENT We're happy.

BRETT (to Jules) Look, what's your name? I got his name's Vincent, but what's yours?

JULES My name's Pitt, and you ain't talkin' your ass outta this shit.

BRETT I just want you to know how sorry we are about how fucked up things got between us and Mr. Wallace. When we entered into this thing, we only had the best intentions

As Brett talks, Jules takes out his gun and SHOOTS Roger three times in the chest, BLOWING him out of his chair.

Vince smiles to himself. Jules has got style.

Brett has just shit his pants. He's not crying or whimpering, but he's so full of fear, it's as if his body is imploding.

JULES (to Brett) Oh, I'm sorry. Did that break your concentration? I didn't mean to do that. Please, continue. I believe you were saying something about "best intentions."

Brett can't say a word.

JULES Whatsamatter? Oh, you were through anyway. Well, let me retort. Would you describe for me what Marsellus Wallace looks like?

Brett still can't speak.

Jules SNAPS, SAVAGELY TIPPING the card table over, removing the only barrier between himself and Brett. Brett now sits in a lone chair before Jules like a political prisoner in front of an interrogator.

JULES What country you from!

BRETT (petrified) What?

JULES "What" ain't no country I know! Do they speak English in "What?"

BRETT (near heart attack) What?

JULES English-motherfucker-can-you-speak- it?


JULES Then you understand what I'm sayin'?


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.





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.



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.


Sally LeRoy's is a large topless bar by LAX that Marsellus owns.

Vincent's classic Malibu WHIPS into the near empty parking lot and parks next to a white Honda Civic.

Vince knocks on the door. The front entrance is unlocked, revealing the Dapper Dan fellow on the inside: ENGLISH DAVE. Dave isn't really English, he's a young black man from Baldwin Park, who has run a few clubs for Marsellus, including Sally LeRoy's.

ENGLISH DAVE Vincent Vega, our man in Amsterdam, git your ass on in here.

Vincent, carrying the black briefcase from the scene between Vincent and Jules, steps inside. English Dave SLAMS the door in our faces.


The spacious club is empty this time of day. English Dave crosses to the bar, and Vince follows.

VINCENT Where's the big man?

ENGLISH DAVE He's over there, finishing up some business.

VINCENT'S POV: Butch shakes hands with a huge figure with his back to us. The huge figure is the infamous and as of yet still UNSEEN Marsellus.

ENGLISH DAVE (O.S.) Hang back for a second or two, and when you see the white boy leave, go on over. In the meanwhile, can I make you an espresso?

VINCENT How 'bout a cup of just plain lo' American?

ENGLISH DAVE Comin' up. I hear you're taking Mia out tomorrow?

VINCENT At Marsellus' request.

ENGLISH DAVE Have you met Mia?

VINCENT Not yet.

English Dave smiles to himself.

VINCENT What's so funny?

ENGLISH DAVE Not a goddamn thing.

VINCENT Look, I'm not a idiot. She's the big man's fuckin' wife. I'm gonna sit across a table, chew my food with my mouth closed, laugh at her jokes and that's all I'm gonna do.

English Dave puts Vince's coffee in front of him.

ENGLISH DAVE My name's Paul, and this is between y'all.

Butch bellies up to the bar next to Vincent, drinking his cup of "Plain ol' American."

BUTCH (to English Dave) Can I get a pack'a Red Apples?



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.




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!


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?


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.


Going into Vincent's vein.


Spurting back into the syringe, mixing with the heroin.


Pushing down on the plunger.



Vincent walks toward the house and pulls a note off the door


The Note reads:

"Hi Vincent, I'm getting dressed. The door's open. Come inside and make yourself a drink. Mia"

MIA (V.O.) Hi, Vincent. I'm getting dressed. The door's open. Come inside and make yourself a drink.


Music in.



Vincent enters on the background.



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.


Vincent turns.

MIA (over intercom) Vincent. I'm on the intercom.


MIA (into microphone) It's on the wall by the two African fellas.


MIA (over intercom) To your right.

Vincent walks.

MIA ...warm. Warmer. Disco.

Vincent finds the intercom on the wall.


MIA (over intercom) Push the button if you want to talk.

VINCENT (into intercom) Hello.


MIA (into microphone) Go make yourself a drink., and I'll be down in two shakes of a lamb's tail.


MIA (over intercom) The bar's by the fireplace.

VINCENT (into intercom) Okay. (licks lips)


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.


Vincent picks up a bottle of scotch. He sniffs the bottle, and then pours it into a glass.


A razor blade cuts cocaine on a mirror.


Vincent drinks a glass of scotch.


Mia sniffs the cocaine.


Vincent sips the drink and looks at a portrait of Mia on the wall.

Mia walks into the room, and takes the needle off a record. The Dusty Springfield song stops.

MIA Let's go.


In the past six years, 50's diners have sprung up all over L.A., giving Thai restaurants a run for their money. They're all basically the same. Decor out of an "Archie" comic book, Golden Oldies constantly emanating from a bubbly Wurlitzer, saucy waitresses in bobby socks, menus with items like the Fats Domino Cheeseburger, or the Wolfman Jack Omelet, and over prices that pay for all this bullshit.

But then there's JACKRABBIT SLIM'S, the big mama of 50's diners.

Either the best or the worst, depending on your point of view.

Vincent's Malibu pulls up to the restaurant. A big sign with a neon figure of a cartoon surly cool cat jackrabbit in a red windbreaker towers over the establishment. Underneath the cartoon is the name: JACKRABBIT SLIM'S. Underneath that is the slogan: "Next best thing to a time machine."

VINCENT What the fuck is this place?

MIA This is Jackrabbit Slim's. An Elvis man should love it.

VINCENT Come on, Mia, let's go get a steak.

MIA You can get a steak here, daddy-o. Don't be a...

Mia draws a square with her hands. Dotted lines appear on the screen, forming a sqaure. The lines disperse.

VINCENT After you, kitty-cat.


Compared to the interior, the exterior was that of a quaint English pub. Posters from 50's A.I.P. movies are all over the wall

("ROCK ALL NIGHT," "HIGH SCHOOL CONFIDENTIAL," "ATTACK OF THE CRAB MONSTER," and "MACHINE GUN KELLY"). The booths that the patrons sit in are made out of the cut up bodies of 50s cars.

In the middle of the restaurant in a dance floor. A big sign on the wall states, "No shoes allowed." Some wannabe beboppers (actually Melrose-types), do the twist in their socks or barefeet.

The picture windows don't look out the street, but instead, B & W movies of 50's street scenes play behind them. The WAITRESSES and WAITERS are made up as replicas of 50's icons: MARILYN MONROE, ZORRO, JAMES DEAN, DONNA REED, MARTIN and LEWIS, and THE PHILIP MORRIS MIDGET, wait on tables wearing appropriate costumes.

Vincent and Mia study the menu in a booth made out of a red '59 Edsel. BUDDY HOLLY (their waiter), comes over, sporting a big button on his chest that says: "Hi I'm Buddy, pleasing you please me."

BUDDY Hi, I'm Buddy, what can I get'cha?

VINCENT I'll have the Douglas Sirk steak.

BUDDY How d'ya want it, burnt to a crisp, or bloody as hell?

VINCENT Bloody as hell. And to drink, a vanilla coke.

BUDDY How 'bout you, Peggy Sue?

MIA I'll have the Durwood Kirby burger bloody and a five-dollar shake.

BUDDY How d'ya want that shake, Martin and Lewis, or Amos and Andy?

MIA Martin and Lewis.

VINCENT Did you just order a five-dollar shake?

MIA Sure did.

VINCENT A shake? Milk and ice cream?

MIA Uh-huh.

VINCENT It costs five dollars?


VINCENT You don't put bourbon in it or anything?


VINCENT Just checking.

Buddy exits.

Vincent takes a look around the place. The YUPPIES are dancing, the DINERS are biting into big, juicy hamburgers, and the icons are playing their parts. Marilyn is squealing, The Midget is paging Philip Morris, Donna Reed is making her customers drink their milk, and Dean and Jerry are acting a fool.

MIA Whaddya think?

VINCENT It's like a wax museum with a pulse rate.

Vincent takes out his pouch of tobacco and begins rolling himself a smoke.

After a second of watching him

MIA What are you doing?

VINCENT Rollin' a smoke.

MIA Here?

VINCENT It's just tobacco.

MIA Oh. Well in that case, will you roll me one, cowboy?

As he finishes licking it

VINCENT You can have this one, cowgirl.

He hands her the rolled smoke. She takes it, putting it to her lips. Out of nowhere appears a Zippo lighter in Vincent's hand. He lights it.

MIA Thanks.

VINCENT Think nothing of it.

He begins rolling one for himself.

As this time, the SOUND of a subway car fills the diner, making everything SHAKE and RATTLE. Marilyn Monroe runs to a square vent in the floor. An imaginary subway train BLOWS the skirt of her white dress around her ears as she lets out a squeal. The entire restaurant applauds.

Back to Mia and Vincent.

MIA Marsellus said you just got back from Amsterdam.

VINCENT Sure did. I heard you did a pilot.

MIA That was my fifteen minutes.

VINCENT What was it?

MIA It was show about a team of female secret agents called "Fox Force Five."


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?


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.


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!


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?


Mia and Vincent smile.

MIA They talk a lot, don't they?

VINCENT They certainly do.

MIA Well don't by shy Vincent, what exactly did they say?

Vincent is slow to answer.

MIA Let me help you Bashful, did it involve the F-word?

VINCENT No. They just said Rocky Horror gave you a foot massage.

MIA And...?

VINCENT No and, that's it.

MIA You heard Marsellus threw Rocky Horror out of a four-story window because he massaged my feet?


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.



ED SULLIVAN (into microphone) Ladies and gentlemen, now the moment you've all been waiting for, the worldfamous Jackrabbit Slim's twist contest.

Patrons cheer.

Ed Sullivan is with Marilyn Monroe, who holds a trophy.

ED SULLIVAN ...One lucky couple will win this handsome trophy that Marilyn here is holding.

Marilyn holds the trophy.

ED SULLIVAN ...Now, who will be our first contestants?

Mia holds her hand.

MIA Right here.

Vincent reacts.

MIA I wanna dance.

VINCENT No, no, no no, no, no, no, no.

MIA (overlapping) No, no, no, no, no, no, no. I do believe Marsellus, my husband, your boss, told you to take me out and do whatever I wanted, Now, I want to dance. I want to win. I want that trophy.

VINCENT (sighs) All right.

MIA So, dance good.

VINCENT All right, you asked for it.

Vincent and Mia walk onto the dance floor, toward Ed Sullivan.

ED SULLIVAN (into microphone) Let's hear it for our first contestants.

Patrons cheer.

Vincent and Mia walk up to the microphone.

ED SULLIVAN Now let's meet our first contestants here this evening. Young lady, what is your name?

MIA (into microphone) Missus Mia Wallace.

ED SULLIVAN (into microphone) And, uh, how 'bout your fella here?

MIA (into microphone) Vincent Vega.

ED SULLIVAN (into microphone) All right, let's see what you can do. Take it away!

Mia and Vincent dance to Chuck Berry's "YOU NEVER CAN TELL". They make hand movements as they dance.


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.


The two just stand face to face looking at each other.

VINCENT Was than an uncomfortable silence?

MIA I don't know what that was. (pause) Music and drinks!

Mia moves away to attend to both. Vincent hangs up his overcoat on a big bronze coat rack in the alcove.

VINCENT I'm gonna take a piss.

MIA That was a little bit more information than I needed to know, but go right ahead.

Vincent shuffles off to the john.

Mia moves to her CD player, thumbs through a stack of CDs and selects one: k.d. lang. The speakers BLAST OUT a high energy country number, which Mia plays air-guitar to. She dances her way around the room and finds herself by Vincent's overcoat hanging on the rack. She touches its sleeve. It feels good.

Her hand hoes in its pocket and pulls out his tobacco pouch. Like a little girl playing cowboy, she spreads the tobacco on some rolling paper. Imitating what he did earlier, licks the paper and rolls it into a pretty good cigarette. Maybe a little too fat, but not bad for a first try. Mia thinks so anyway. Her hand reaches back in the pocket and pulls out his Zippo lighter. She SLAPS the lighter against her leg, trying to light it fancy-style like Vince did. What do you know, she did it! Mia's one happy clam. She triumphantly brings the fat flame up to her fat smoke, lighting it up, then LOUDLY SNAPS the Zippo closed.

The Mia-made cigarette is brought up to her lips, and she takes a long, cool drag. Her hand slides the Zippo back in the overcoat pocket. But wait, her fingers touch something else. Those fingers bring out a plastic bag with white powder inside, the madman that Vincent bought earlier from Lance. Wearing a big smile, Mia brings the bag of heroin up to her face.

MIA (like you would say Bingo!) Disco! Vince, you little cola nut, you've been holding out on me.



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.


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.


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...


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.


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.


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.


We follow behind Vincent as he walks from the bathroom to the living room, where he finds Mia lying on the floor like a rag doll. She's twisted on her back. Blood and puke are down her front. And her face is contorted. Not out of the tightness of pain, but just the opposite, the muscles in her face are so relaxed, she lies still with her mouth wide open. Slack-jawed.

VINCENT Jesus Christ!

Vincent moves like greased lightning to Mia's fallen body. Bending down where she lays, he puts his fingers on her neck to check her pulse. She slightly stirs.

Mia is aware of Vincent over her, speaking to her.

VINCENT (sounding weird) Mia! MIA! What the hell happened?

But she's unable to communicate Mia makes a few lost mumbles, but they're not distinctive enough to be called words.

Vincent props her eyelids open and sees the story.

VINCENT (to himself) I'll be a son-of-a-bitch. (to Mia) Mia! MIA! What did you take? Answer me honey, what did you take?

Mia is incapable of answering. He SLAPS her face hard.

Vincent SPRINGS up and RUNS to his overcoat, hanging on the rack.

He goes through the pockets FRANTICALLY. It's gone. Vincent makes a beeline to Mia. We follow.

VINCENT (yelling to Mia) Okay honey, we're getting you on your feet.

He reaches her and hoists the dead weight up in his arms.

VINCENT We're on our feet now, and now we're gonna talk out to the car. Here we go, watch us walk.

We follow behind as he hurriedly walks the practically- unconscious Mia through the house and out the front door.


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.


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.


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.



Vincent is still driving like a stripe-assed ape, clutching the phone to his ear. WE CUT BACK AND FORTH during the conversation.

VINCENT Lance, this is Vincent, I'm in big fuckin' trouble man, I'm on my way to your place.

LANCE Whoa, hold you horses man, what's the problem?

VINCENT You still got an adrenaline shot?

LANCE (dawning on him) Maybe.

VINCENT I need it man, I got a chick she's fuckin' Doing on me.

LANCE Don't bring her here! I'm not even fuckin' joking with you, don't you be bringing some fucked up pooh-butt to my house!

VINCENT No choice.

LANCE She's ODin'?

VINCENT Yeah. She's dyin'.

LANCE Then bite the fuckin' bullet, take 'er to a hospital and call a lawyer!

VINCENT Negative.

LANCE She ain't my fuckin' problem, you fucked her up, you deal with it are you talkin' to me on a cellular phone?


LANCE I don't know you, who is this, don't come here, I'm hangin' up.

VINCENT Too late, I'm already here.

At that moment inside Lance's house, WE HEAR VINCENT's Malibu coming up the street. Lance hangs up the phone, goes to his curtains and YANKS the cord. The curtains open with a WHOOSH in time to see Vincent's Malibu DRIVING UP on his front lawn and CRASHING into his house. The window Lance is looking out of SHATTERS from the impact.

JODY (O.S.) What the hell was that?

Lance CHARGES from the window, out the door to his front lawn.


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.


WE START in Lance's and Jody's bedroom.

Jody, in bed, throws off the covers and stands up. She's wearing a long tee-shirt with a picture of Fred Flintstone on it.

We follow HANDHELD behind her as she opens the door, walking through the hall into the living room.

JODY It's only one-thirty in the goddamn mornin'! What the fuck's goin' on out here?

As she walks in the living room, she sees Vincent and Lance standing over Mia, who's lying on the floor in the middle of the room.

From here on in, everything in this scene is frantic, like a DOCUMENTARY in an emergency ward, with the big difference here being nobody knows what the fuck they're doing.

JODY Who's she?

Lance looks up at Jody.

LANCE Get that black box in the bedroom I have with the adrenaline shot.

JODY What's wrong with her?

VINCENT She's ODing on us.

JODY Well get her the hell outta here!

LANCE AND VINCENT (in stereo) Get the fuckin' shot!

JODY Don't yell and me!

She angrily turns and disappears into the bedroom looking for the shot.

WE MOVE into the room with the two men.

VINCENT (to Lance) You two are a match made in heaven.

LANCE Look, just keep talkin' to her, okay? While she's gettin' the shot, I gotta get a medical book.

VINCENT What do you need a medical book for?

LANCE To tell me how to do it. I've never given an adrenaline shot before.

VINCENT You've had that thing for six years and you never used it?

LANCE I never had to use it. I don't go joypoppin' with bubble-gummers, all of my friends can handle their highs!

VINCENT Well then get it.

LANCE I am, if you'll let me.

VINCENT I'm not fuckin' stoppin' you.

LANCE Stop talkin' to me, and start talkin' to her.

WE FOLLOW Lance as he runs out of the living room into a...


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.


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.




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