Pulp Fiction1994

Vincent:
[about a foot massage] It's layin' your hands in a familiar way on Marsellus' new wife. I mean, is it as bad as eatin' her p*ssy out? No, but it's the same f***in' ballpark.

Jules:
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop right there. Eating a b*tch out and giving a b*tch a foot massage ain't even the same f***ing thing.

Vincent:
It's not. It's the same ballpark.

Jules:
Ain't no f***ing ballpark neither. Now, look, maybe your method of massage differs from mine, but, you know, touching his wife's feet and sticking your tongue in the holiest of holies ain't the same f***ing ballpark. It ain't the same league. It ain't even the same f***ing sport. Look, foot massages don't mean sh*t.

Vincent:
Have you ever given a foot massage?

Jules:
Don't be telling me about foot massages, I'm the foot f***in' master.

Vincent:
Given a lot of them?

Jules:
Sh*t, yeah. I got my technique down and everything, I don't be tickling or nothing.

Vincent:
Would you give a guy a foot massage?

Jules:
[pause] F*** you.

Vincent:
You give them a lot?

Jules:
F*** you.

Vincent:
You know, I'm getting kinda tired, I could use a foot massage myself.

Jules:
Yo, yo, yo, man, you best back off. I'm getting pissed here. This is the door.

Vincent:
There it is.

Jules:
What time you got?

Vincent:
[looks at his watch] 7:22 in the a.m.

Jules:
No, it's not time yet. Let's hang back. [they go into an empty hallway] Look, just 'cause I wouldn't give no man a foot massage don't make it right for Marsellus to throw Antoine into a glass motherfucking house, f***ing up the way the nigga talks. That sh*t ain't right. Motherf***er do that sh*t to me, he better paralyze my ass because I'd kill the motherf***er. Know what I'm saying?

Vincent:
I ain't saying it's right. But you're saying a foot massage don't mean nothing, and I'm saying it does. Now, look, I've given a million ladies a million foot massages, and they all meant something. We act like they don't, but they do, and that's what's so f***ing cool about them. There's a sensuous thing going on where you don't talk about it, but you know it, she knows it, f***ing Marsellus knew it, and Antoine should have f***ing better known better. I mean, that's his f***ing wife, man. He ain't gonna have no sense of humor about that sh*t. You know what I'm saying?

Jules:
That's an interesting point. [pause] C'mon, let's get into character.