Quentin Tarantino is master.
Just to let you know. Pulp Fiction is my new all time favorite movie.
Pulp
(pulp)n.
1. A soft shapeless mass of matter.
2. A book containing lurid subject matter, and being characteristically printed on rough, unfinished paper.
American Heritage Dictionary
New College Edition
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 holies, 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: Fuck you.
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.
Jimmie: Now let me ask you a question, Jules. When you drove in here, did you notice a sign out in front that said, "Dead nigger storage"?
Jules: Jimmie...
Jimmie: Answer the question! Did you see a sign out in front of my house that said "Dead nigger storage"?
Jules: Naw man, I didn't.
Jimmie: You know why you didn't see that sign?
Jules: Why?
Jimmie: 'Cause storin' dead niggers ain't my fuckin' business!
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.
Pulp
(pulp)n.
1. A soft shapeless mass of matter.
2. A book containing lurid subject matter, and being characteristically printed on rough, unfinished paper.
American Heritage Dictionary
New College Edition
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 holies, 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: Fuck you.
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.
Jimmie: Now let me ask you a question, Jules. When you drove in here, did you notice a sign out in front that said, "Dead nigger storage"?
Jules: Jimmie...
Jimmie: Answer the question! Did you see a sign out in front of my house that said "Dead nigger storage"?
Jules: Naw man, I didn't.
Jimmie: You know why you didn't see that sign?
Jules: Why?
Jimmie: 'Cause storin' dead niggers ain't my fuckin' business!
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.