Marsellus: In the fifth, your ass goes down. Say it.
Butch: In the fifth, my ass goes down.
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Butch: Starin' at something, friend?
Vincent: I ain't your friend, palooka.
Butch: What did you say?
Vincent: I think you heard me just fine, punchy.
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Jules: What does Marcellus Wallace look like?
Jules: What country you from?
Jules: What ain't no country I ever heard of! They speak English in What?
Jules: ENGLISH, MOTHERFUCKER! DO-YOU-SPEAK-IT?
Jules: Then you know what I'm saying!
Jules: Describe what Marcellus Wallace looks like!
Brett: What, I-?
Jules: [pointing his gun] Say what again. SAY WHAT AGAIN. I dare you, I double dare you, motherfucker. Say what one more goddamn time.
Brett: He's b-b-black...
Jules: Go on.
Brett: He's bald...
Jules: Does he look like a bitch?
[Jules shoots Brett in shoulder]
Jules: DOES HE LOOK LIKE A BITCH?
Jules: Then why you try to fuck him like a bitch, Brett?
Brett: I didn't.
Jules: Yes you did. Yes you did, Brett. You tried to fuck him. And Marcellus Wallace don't like to be fucked by anybody, except Mrs. Wallace.
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Three tomatoes are walking down the street- a poppa tomato, a momma tomato, and a little baby tomato. Baby tomato starts lagging behind. Poppa tomato gets angry, goes over to the baby tomato, and smooshes him... and says, Catch up.Mia
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