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.
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."
in the fifth, your ass goes down.
say it!
vincent vega has entered the building, git your ass over here!
what'cha got?
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.
who?
well, i'll be damned.
step aside, butch.
naw man. i'm pretty fuckin' far from okay!
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. hear me talkin' hillbilly boy?! i ain't through with you by a damn sight. i'm gonna git medieval on your ass.
oh, that what now? well, let me tell ya what now between me an' you. there is no me an' you. not no more.
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?
go on now, get your ass outta here.
hello mr. wolf, it's marsellus. gotta bit of a situation.
well, say she comes home. whaddya think she'll do? 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?
i've grasped that, jules. all i'm doin' is contemplating the "ifs."
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.
feel better?