Pulp Fiction

PULP [pulp] n.

1. A soft, moist, shapeless mass or matter.

2. A magazine or book containing lurid subject matter and

being characteristically printed on rough, unfinished paper.

American Heritage Dictionary: New College Edition

INT. COFFEE SHOP – MORNING

A normal Denny's, Spires-like coffee shop in Los Angeles.

It's about 9:00 in the morning. While the place isn't jammed,

there's a healthy number of people drinking coffee, munching

on bacon and eating eggs.

Two of these people are a YOUNG MAN and a YOUNG WOMAN. The

Young Man has a slight working-class English accent and,

like his fellow countryman, smokes cigarettes like they're

going out of style.

It is impossible to tell where the Young Woman is from or

how old she is; everything she does contradicts something

she did. The boy and girl sit in a booth. Their dialogue is

to be said in a rapid pace "HIS GIRL FRIDAY" fashion.

YOUNG MAN:

No, forget it, it's too risky. I'm

through doin' that sh*t.

YOUNG WOMAN:

You always say that, the same thing

every time:
never again, I'm through,

too dangerous.

YOUNG MAN:

I know that's what I always say. I'm

always right too, but –

YOUNG WOMAN:

– but you forget about it in a day

or two -

YOUNG MAN:

– yeah, well, the days of me

forgettin' are over, and the days of

me rememberin' have just begun.

YOUNG WOMAN:

When you go on like this, you know

what you sound like?

YOUNG MAN:

I sound like a sensible f***ing man,

is what I sound like.

YOUNG WOMAN:

You sound like a duck.

(imitates a duck)

Quack, quack, quack, quack, quack,

quack, quack...

YOUNG MAN:

Well take heart, 'cause you're never

gonna hafta hear it again. Because

since I'm never gonna do it again,

you're never gonna hafta hear me

quack about how I'm never gonna do

it again.

YOUNG WOMAN:

After tonight.

The boy and girl laugh, their laughter putting a pause in

there, back and forth.

YOUNG MAN:

(with a smile)

Correct. I got all tonight to quack.

A WAITRESS comes by with a pot of coffee.

WAITRESS:

Can I get anybody anymore coffee?

YOUNG WOMAN:

Oh yes, thank you.

The Waitress pours the Young Woman's coffee. The Young Man

lights up another cigarette.

YOUNG MAN:

I'm doin' fine.

The Waitress leaves. The Young Man takes a drag off of his

smoke.

The Young Woman pours a ton of cream and sugar into her

coffee.

The Young Man goes right back into it.

YOUNG MAN:

I mean the way it is now, you're

takin' the same f***in' risk as when

you rob a bank. You take more of a

risk. Banks are easier! Federal

banks aren't supposed to stop you

anyway, during a robbery. They're

insured, why should they care? You

don't even need a gun in a federal

bank. I heard about this guy, walked

into a federal bank with a portable

phone, handed the phone to the teller,

the guy on the other end of the phone

said:
"We got this guy's little girl,

and if you don't give him all your

money, we're gonna kill 'er."

YOUNG WOMAN:

Did it work?

YOUNG MAN:

F***in' A it worked, that's what I'm

talkin' about! Knucklehead walks in

a bank with a telephone, not a pistol,

not a shotgun, but a f***in' phone,

cleans the place out, and they don't

lift a f***in' finger.

YOUNG WOMAN:

Did they hurt the little girl?

YOUNG MAN:

I don't know. There probably never

was a little girl – the point of the

story isn't the little girl. The

point of the story is they robbed

the bank with a telephone.

YOUNG WOMAN:

You wanna rob banks?

YOUNG MAN:

I'm not sayin' I wanna rob banks,

I'm just illustrating that if we

did, it would be easier than what we

been doin'.

YOUNG WOMAN:

So you don't want to be a bank robber?

YOUNG MAN:

Naw, all those guys are goin' down

the same road, either dead or servin'

twenty.

YOUNG WOMAN:

And no more liquor stores?

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