Pulp Fiction Page #40

Winston turns to leave.

JULES:

Mr. Wolf.

He turns around.

JULES:

I was a pleasure watchin' you work.

The Wolf smiles.

WINSTON:

Call me Winston.

He turns and banters with Raquel as they get in the Porsche.

WINSTON:

You hear that, young lady? Respect.

You could lean a lot from those two

fine specimens. Respect for one's

elders shows character.

RAQUEL:

I have character.

WINSTON:

Just because you are a character

doesn't mean you have character.

RAQUEL:

Oh you're so funny, oh you're so

funny.

The Porsche SHOOTS OFF down the road.

The two men left alone look at each other.

JULES:

Wanna share a cab?

VINCENT:

You know I could go for some

breakfast. Want to have breakfast

with me?

JULES:

Sure.

INT. COFFEE SHOP – MORNING

Jules and Vincent sit at a booth. In front of Vincent is a

big stack of pancakes and sausages, which he eats with gusto.

Jules, on the other hand, just has a cup of coffee and a

muffin. He seems far away in thought. The Waitress pours a

refill for both men,

VINCENT:

Thanks a bunch.

(to Jules, who's

nursing his coffee)

Want a sausage?

JULES:

Naw, I don't eat pork.

VINCENT:

Are you Jewish?

JULES:

I ain't Jewish man, I just don't dig

on swine.

VINCENT:

Why not?

JULES:

They're filthy animals. I don't eat

filthy animals.

VINCENT:

Sausages taste good. Pork chops taste

good.

JULES:

A sewer rat may taste like pumpkin

pie. I'll never know 'cause even if

it did, I wouldn't eat the filthy

muthafucka. Pigs sleep and root in

sh*t. That's a filthy animal. I don't

wanna eat nothin' that ain't got

enough sense to disregard its own

feces.

VINCENT:

How about dogs? Dogs eat their own

feces.

JULES:

I don't eat dog either.

VINCENT:

Yes, but do you consider a dog to be

a filthy animal?

JULES:

I wouldn't go so far as to call a

dog filthy, but they're definitely

dirty. But a dog's got personality.

And personality goes a long way.

VINCENT:

So by that rationale, if a pig had a

better personality, he's cease to be

a filthy animal?

JULES:

We'd have to be talkin' 'bout one

muthafuckin' charmin' pig. It'd

have to be the Cary Grant of pigs.

The two men laugh.

VINCENT:

Good for you. Lighten up a little.

You been sittin' there all quiet.

JULES:

I just been sittin' here thinkin'.

VINCENT:

(mouthful of food)

About what?

JULES:

The miracle we witnessed.

VINCENT:

The miracle you witnessed. I witnessed

a freak occurrence.

JULES:

Do you know that a miracle is?

VINCENT:

An act of God.

JULES:

What's an act of God?

VINCENT:

I guess it's when God makes the

impossible possible. And I'm sorry

Jules, but I don't think what happened

this morning qualifies.

JULES:

Don't you see, Vince, that sh*t don't

matter. You're judging this thing

the wrong way. It's not about what.

It could be God stopped the bullets,

he changed Coke into Pepsi, he found

my f***in' car keys. You don't judge

sh*t like this based on merit. Whether

or not what we experienced was an

according-to-Hoyle miracle is

insignificant. What is significant

is I felt God's touch, God got

involved.

VINCENT:

But why?

JULES:

That's what's f***in' wit' me! I

don't know why. But I can't go back

to sleep.

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