Kill Bill: Vol. 2 Page #5

Why, Daddy?

Were you being a bad daddy?

I'm afraid I was.

I was a real bad daddy.

Our little girl learned about

life and death the other day.

Want to tell Mommy about

what happened to Emilio?

I killed him.

Emilio was her goldfish.

Emilio was my goldfish.

She came running

into my room...

holding the fish in her hand and

crying, "Daddy. Daddy. Emilio's dead."

And I said, "Really? That's so sad.

How did he die?"

And what did you say?

I stepped on him.

Actually, young lady, the words

you so strategically used were:

I accidentally stepped on him.

To which I queried:

"And just how did your foot...

accidentally find its way

into Emilio's fishbowl?"

And she said, "No. Emilio was on

the carpet when I stepped on him."

The plot thickens.

And just how did Emilio get

on the carpet?

And, Mommy, you would have

been so proud of her.

She didn't lie.

She said she took Emilio

out of his bowl...

and put him on the carpet.

And what was Emilio doing

on the carpet?

Flapping.

And then you stomped on him.

And when you lifted up your foot...

what was Emilio doing then?

Nothing.

He stopped flapping, didn't he?

She told me later...

that the second she lifted up her

foot and saw Emilio not flapping...

she knew what she had done.

Is that not the perfect visual image

of life and death?

A fish flapping

on the carpet...

and a fish not flapping on the carpet.

So powerful...

even a 4-year-old with

no concept of life or death...

knew what it meant.

You loved Emilio, didn't you?

Well...

I love Mommy too...

But I did to Mommy what

you did to Emilio.

-You stomped on Mommy?

-Worse.

I shot Mommy.

Not pretend shooting like

we were just doing.

I shot her for real.

Why? Did you want to see what would

what would happen?

No, I knew what would happen to

Mommy If I shot her.

What I didn't know was, when I shot

Mommy, what would happen to me.

What happened?

I was very sad.

And that's when I learned:

Some things, once you do...

they can never be undone.

What happened

to Mommy?

Why don't you ask Mommy?

You okay, Mommy? Did it hurt?

No, sweetie.

Doesn't hurt anymore.

Did it make you sick?

It made me sleep.

That's why I haven't been with you,

B.B. I've been asleep.

But you're awake now, Mommy, right?

I'm wide awake, pretty girl.

B.B., would you like Mommy to

watch a video with you...

before sleepy time?

Mommy, do you want to watch a

video with me before sleepy time?

Oh, yeah! I would love to.

-Which one do you want to watch?

-Shogun Assassin.

No, B.B. Shogun Assassin is too long.

No, it's not.

Well, then, I'll leave

you ladies to it.

When I was little...

my father was famous.

He was the greatest samurai

in the empire.

And he was the

shogun's decapitator.

He cut off the heads

of 131 lords.

My father would come

home to Mother...

And when he would see her he would

forget about the killings.

He wasn't scared

of the shogun...

but the shogun

was scared of him.

Maybe that was the problem.

One night...

The shogun sent his

ninja spies...

I was just admiring

your sword.

Quite a piece of work.

Speaking of which, how is

Hanzo-san?

He's good.

Has his sushi gotten any better?

You know, I couldn't

believe it.

-You got him to make you a sword.

-It was easy.

I just dropped your name,

Bill.

That'd do it.

I suppose the idea is we

cross Hanzo swords.

Am I right?

Well...

it just so happens this hacienda

has its own private beach.

And that private beach...

just so happens to look particularly

beautiful bathed in moonlight.

And there just so happens to be

a full moon out tonight.

So, swordfighter...

if you want a swordfight,

that's where I suggest.

But if you want to be old school

about it...

and you know I'm all

about old school then we could wait...

until dawn and slice each other...

up at sunrise like

a couple of real-life, honest...

Now, if you don't settle down,

I'll have to put one in your kneecap...

And I hear tell that's

a very painful...

place to get shot in.

I'm just f***ing with you.

Now...

when it comes to you...

and us...

I have a few unanswered

questions.

So...

before this tale of bloody revenge

reaches its climax...

I'm going to ask you some questions

and I want you to tell me the truth.

However, therein lies a dilemma.

Because, when it comes to the

subject of me...

I believe you are truly and

utterly incapable

of telling the truth.

Especially to me.

And least of all to yourself.

And when it comes to the

subject of me...

I am truly and

utterly incapable...

of believing anything

you say.

How do you suppose we

solve this dilemma?

Well it just so happens...

I have a solution.

Gotcha!

Goddamn!

What the f*** did you just

shoot me with?!

My greatest invention.

Or at least

my favorite.

Don't touch it or I'll stick another

one right in your cheek.

What lies within that dart...

just begging to course its way

through your veins...

is an incredibly potent...

infallible truth serum.

I call it

"The Undisputed Truth."

Twice as strong as

sodium pentothal...

with no druggie aftereffects.

Except for a slight wave

of euphoria.

You feel it?

Euphoria?

Too bad.

As you know...

I'm quite keen

on comic books.

Especially the ones

about superheroes.

I find the whole mythology surrounding

superheroes fascinating.

Take my favorite

superhero, Superman.

Not a great comic book.

Not particularly well drawn.

But the mythology...

The mythology is not only great,

it's unique.

How long does this sh*t take

to go into effect?

About two minutes. Just long enough for

me to finish my point.

Now a staple of the superhero

mythology is...

there's the superhero

and there's the alter ego.

Batman is actually Bruce Wayne...

Spider-Man is

actually Peter Parker.

When that character wakes up

In the morning, he's Peter Parker.

He has to put on a costume

to become Spider-Man.

And it is in...

that characteristic

Superman stands alone.

Superman didn't

become Superman.

Superman was born Superman.

When Superman wakes up in the

morning, he's Superman.

His alter ego

is Clark Kent.

His outfit with

the big red "S"...

that's the blanket...

he was wrapped in as a baby

when the Kents found him.

Those are his clothes.

What Kent wears, the glasses, the

business suit, that's the costume.

That's the costume Superman wears to

blend in with us.

Clark Kent is how

Superman views us.

And what are the characteristics

of Clark Kent?

He's weak...

he's unsure of himself...

he's a coward.

Clark Kent is Superman's critique

on the whole human race.

Sort of like Beatrix Kiddo and

Mrs. Tommy Plympton.

Aso.

The point emerges.

You would've worn the costume

of Arlene Plympton...

But you were born Beatrix Kiddo.

And every morning when you woke up,

you'd still be Beatrix Kiddo.

Oh, you can take the needle out.

Are you calling

me a superhero?

I'm calling

you a killer.

A natural Born killer.

You always have been

and you always will be.

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