Pulp Fiction Page #42

PUMPKIN:

Well done, now git your f***in' ass

on the ground.

INT. COFFEE SHOP BATHROOM – MORNING

Vincent, on the toilet, oblivious to the pandemonium outside,

reads his "MODESTY BLAISE" book.

INT. COFFEE SHOP – MORNING

Cash register drawer opens. Pumpkin stuffs the money from

the till in his pocket. Then walks from behind the counter

with a trash bag in his hand.

PUMPKIN:

Okay people, I'm going to go 'round

and collect your wallets. Don't talk,

just toss 'em in the bag. We clear?

Pumpkin goes around collecting wallets. Jules sits with his

.45 ready to spit under the table.

Pumpkin sees Jules sitting in his booth, holding his wallet,

briefcase next to him. Pumpkin crosses to him, his tone more

respectful, him manner more on guard.

PUMPKIN:

In the bag.

Jules DROPS his wallet in the bag. Using his gun as a pointer,

Pumpkin points to the briefcase.

PUMPKIN:

What's in that?

JULES:

My boss' dirty laundry.

PUMPKIN:

You boss makes you do his laundry?

JULES:

When he wants it clean.

PUMPKIN:

Sounds like a sh*t job.

JULES:

Funny, I've been thinkin' the same

thing.

PUMPKIN:

Open it up.

Jules' free hand lays palm flat on the briefcase.

JULES:

'Fraid I can't do that.

Pumpkin is definitely surprised by his answer. He aims the

gun right in the middle of Jules' face and pulls back the

hammer.

PUMPKIN:

I didn't hear you.

JULES:

Yes, you did.

This exchange has been kind of quiet, not everybody heard

it, but Honey Bunny senses something's wrong.

HONEY BUNNY:

What's goin' on?

PUMPKIN:

Looks like we got a vigilante in our

midst.

HONEY BUNNY:

Shoot 'em in the face!

JULES:

I don't mean to shatter your ego,

but this ain't the first time I've

had gun pointed at me.

PUMPKIN:

You don't open up that case, it's

gonna be the last.

MANAGER:

(on the ground)

Quit causing problems, you'll get us

all killed! Give 'em what you got

and get 'em out of here.

JULES:

Keep your f***in' mouth closed, fat

man, this ain't any of your goddamn

business!

PUMPKIN:

I'm countin' to three, and if your

hand ain't off that case, I'm gonna

unload right in your f***in' face.

Clear? One...

PUMPKIN:

...two... three.

JULES:

You win.

Jules raises his hand off the briefcase.

JULES:

It's all yours, Ringo.

PUMPKIN:

Open it.

Jules flips the locks and opens the case, revealing it to

Pumpkin but not to us. The same light SHINES from the case.

Pumpkin's expression goes to amazement. Honey Bunny, across

the room, can't see sh*t.

HONEY BUNNY:

What is it? What is it?

PUMPKIN:

(softly)

Is that what I think it is?

Jules nods his head: "yes."

PUMPKIN:

It's beautiful.

Jules nods his head: "yes."

HONEY BUNNY:

Goddammit, what is it?

Jules SLAMS the case closed, then sits back, as if offering

the case to Pumpkin. Pumpkin, one big smile, bends over to

pick up the case.

Like a rattlesnake, Jules' free hand GRABS the wrist of

Pumpkin's gun hand, SLAMMING it on the table. His other hand

comes from under the table and STICKS the barrel of his .45

hand under Pumpkin's chin.

Honey Bunny freaks out, waving her gun in Jules' direction.

HONEY BUNNY:

Let him go! Let him go! I'll blow

your f***in' head off! I'll kill ya!

I'll kill ya! You're gonna die, you're

gonna f***in' die bad!

JULES:

(to Pumpkin)

Tell that b*tch to be cool! Say,

b*tch be cool! Say, b*tch be cool!

PUMPKIN:

Chill out, honey!

HONEY BUNNY:

Let him go!

JULES:

(softly)

Tell her it's gonna be okay.

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