Against black, title card:
"Vincent Vega And Marsellus Wallace's Wife"
fade in:
We fade up on Butch Coolidge, a white, 26-year-old prizefighter. Butch sits at a table wearing a red and blue high school athletic jacket. Talking to him off screen is everybody's boss Marsellus Wallace. The black man sounds like a cross between a gangster and a king.
Marsellus (os): I think you're gonna find -- when all this shit is over and done -- I think you're gonna find yourself one smilin' motherfucker. Thing is Butch, right now you got ability. But painful as it may be, ability don't last. Now that's a hard motherfuckin' fact of life, but it's a fact of life your ass is gonna hafta git realistic about. This business is filled to the brim with unrealistic motherfuckers who thought their ass aged like wine. Besides, even if you went all the way, what would you be? Feather- weight champion of the world. Who gives a shit? I doubt you can even get a credit card based on that.
A hand lays an envelope full of money on the table in front of Butch. Butch picks it up.
Marsellus (os): Now the night of the fight, you may feel a slight sting, that's pride fuckin' wit ya. Fuck pride! Pride only hurts, it never helps. Fight through that shit. 'Cause a year from now, when you're kickin' it in the Caribbean you're gonna say, "Marsellus Wallace was right."
Butch: I got no problem with that.
Marsellus (os): In the fifth, your ass goes down.
Butch nods his head: "yes."
Marsellus (os): Say it!
Butch: In the fifth, my ass goes down.
Vincent Vega looks really cool behind the wheel of a 1964 cherry-red Chevy Malibu convertible. From the car radio, rockabilly music plays. The b.g. is a colorful process shot.
Sally LeRoy's is a large topless bat by LAX that Marsellus
owns.
Vincent's classic Malibu whips into the near empty parking lot
and parks next to a white Honda Civic.
Vince knocks on the door. The front entrance is unlocked,
revealing the Dapper Dan fellow on the inside: English Dave.
Dave isn't really English, he's a young black man from Baldwin
Park, who has run a few clubs for Marsellus, including Sally
LeRoy's.
English Dave: Vincent Vega, our man in Amsterdam, git your ass on in here.
Vincent, carrying the black briefcase from the scene between Vincent and Jules, steps inside. English Dave slams the door in our faces.
The spacious club is empty this time of day. English Dave crosses to the bar, and Vince follows.
Vincent: Where's the big man?
English Dave: He's over there, finishing up some business.
Vincent's POV:
Butch shakes hands with a huge figure with his back to us.
The huge figure is the infamous and as of yet still unseen
Marsellus.
English Dave (os): Hand back for a second or two, and when you see the white boy leave, go on over. In the meanwhile, can I make you an espresso?
Vincent: How 'bout a cup of just plain ol' American?
English Dave: Comin' up. I hear you're taking Mia out tomorrow?
Vincent: At Marsellus' request.
English Dave: Have you met Mia?
Vincent: Not yet.
English Dave smiles to himself.
Vincent: What's so funny?
English Dave: Not a goddamn thing.
Vincent: Look, I'm not a idiot. She's the big man's fuckin' wife. I'm gonna sit across a table, chew my food with my mouth closed, laugh at her jokes and that's all I'm gonna do.
English Dave puts Vince's coffee in front of him.
English Dave: My name's Paul, and this is between y'all.
Butch bellies up to the bar next to Vincent, drinking his cup of "plain ol' American."
Butch (to English Dave) Can I get a pack'a Red Apples?
English Dave: Filters?
Butch Non.
While Butch waits for his smokes, Vincent just sips his coffee, staring at him. Butch looks over at him.
Butch Lookin' at somethin', friend?
Vincent: I ain't your friend, palooka.
Butch does a slow burn toward Vincent.
Butch What was that?
Vincent: I think ya heard me just fine, punchy.
Butch turns his body to Vincent, when...
Marsellus (os): Vincent Vega has entered the building, git your ass over here!
Vincent walks forward out of frame, never giving Butch another
glance. We dolly into cu on Butch, left alone in the frame,
looking like he's ready to go into the manners-teaching
business.
Butch's POV:
Vincent hugging and kissing the obscured figure that is
Marsellus.
Butch makes the wise decision that is this asshole's a friend
of Marsellus, he better let it go -- for now.
English Dave (os): Pack of Red Apples, dollar-forty.
Butch is snapped out of his ass-kicking thoughts. He pays English Dave and walks out of the shot.
Dissolve to:
CU Jody. a woman who appears to have a fondness for earrings. Both of her ears are pierced five times. She also sports rings in her lips, eyebrows and nose.
Jody: ...I'll lend it to you. It's a great book on body piercing.
Jody, Vincent and a young woman names Trudi sit at the kitchen table of a suburban house in Echo Park. Even though Vince is at the same table, he's not included in the conversation.
Trudi: You know how they use that gun when they pierce your ears? They don't use that when they pierce your nipples, do they?
Jody: Forget that gun. That gun goes against the entire idea behind piercing. All of my piercing, sixteen places on my body, every one of 'em done with a needle. Five in each ear. One through the nipple on my left breast. One through my right nostril. One through my left eyebrow. One through my lip. One in my clit. And I wear a stud in my tongue.
Vince has been letting this conversation go through one ear and out the other, until that last remark.
Vincent: (interrupting) Excuse me, sorry to interrupt. I'm curious, why would you get a stud in your tongue?
Jody looks at him and says as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Jody: It's a sex thing. It helps fellatio.
That thought never occurred to Vincent, but he can't deny it makes sense. Jody continues talking to Trudi, leaving Vincent to ponder the truth of her statement.
Lance (os): Vince, you can come in now!
Lance, late-20s, is a young man with a wild and woolly
appearance that goes hand-in-hand with his wild and woolly
personality. Lance has been selling drugs his entire adult
life. He's never had a day job, never filed a tax return and
has never been arrested. He wears a red flannel shirt over a
"Speed Racer" tee-shirt.
Three bags of heroin lie on Lance's bed.
Lance and Vincent stand at the foot of the bed.
Lance: Now this is Panda, from Mexico. Very good stuff. This is Bava, different, but equally good. And this is Choco from the Hartz Mountains of Germany. Now the first two are the same, forty-five an ounce -- those are friend prices -- but this one... (pointing to the Choco) ...this one's a little more expensive. It's fifty-five. But when you shoot it, you'll know where that extra money went. Nothing wrong with the first two. It's real, real, real, good shit. But this one's a fuckin' madman.
Vincent: Remember, I just got back from Amsterdam.
Lance: Am I a nigger? Are you in Inglewood? No. You're in my house. White people who know the difference between good shit and bad shit, this is the house they come to. My shit, I'll take the Pepsi Challenge with Amsterdam shit any ol' day of the fuckin' week.
Vincent:
That's a bold statement.
Lance:
This ain't Amsterdam, Vince. This
is a seller's market. Coke is
fuckin' dead as disco. Heroin's
comin' back in a big fuckin' way.
It's this whole seventies retro.
Bell bottoms, heroin, they're as
hot as hell.
Vincent takes out a roll of money that would choke a horse to death.
Vincent: Give me three hundred worth of the madman. If it's as good as you say, I'll be back for a thousand.
Lance: I just hope I still have it. Whaddya think of Trudi? She ain't got a boyfriend, wanna hand out an' get high?
Vincent: Which one's Trudi The one with all the shit in her face?
Lance: No, that's Jody. That's my wife.
Vincent and Lance giggle at the "faux pas."
Vincent: I'm on my way somewhere. I got a dinner engagement. Rain check?
Lance: No problem?
Vincent takes out his case of the works (utensils for shooting up).
Vincent: You don't mind if I shoot up here?
Lance: Me casa, su casa.
Vincent: Mucho gracias.
Vincent takes his works out of his case and, as the two continue to talk, Vince shoots up.
Lance: Still got your Malibu?
Vincent: You know what some fucker did to it the other day?
Lance: What?
Vincent: Fuckin' keyed it. Lance: Oh man, that's fucked up.
Vincent: Tell me about it. I had the goddamn thing in storage three years. It's out five fuckin' days -- five days, and some dickless piece of shit fucks with it.
Lance: They should be fuckin' killed. No trial, no jury, straight to execution.
As he cooks his heroin --
Vincent: I just wish I caught 'em doin' it, ya know? Oh man, I'd give anything to catch 'em doin' it. It'a been worth his doin' it, if I coulda just caught 'em, you know what I mean?
Lance: It's chicken shit. You don't fuck another man's vehicle.
CU - the needle.
going into Vincent's vein.
CU - blood
spurting back into the syringe, mixing with the heroin.
CU of Vincent's thumb
pushing down on the plunger.
Cut to:
Vincent walks up to the driveway leading to Marsellus
Wallace's front door. When he gets to the door, he hears
music on the other side, and a note in plain view taped to it.
He rips it off.
CU - note
"Hi Vincent,
I'm getting dressed. The door's
open. Come inside and make
yourself a drink.
Mia"
Vincent neatly folds the note up, sticks it in his pocket,
takes a here-goes-nothing breath and turns the knob.
As Vincent steps inside, the music that was behind the door, swells drastically. Vincent, hands in pockets, strolls inside, checking out his boss' home.
Vincent: (yelling) Hello! I'm here!
We hear a door open, Vincent turns in its direction.
We're inside the room where the music is playing. In the f.g. Mia Wallace, naked with her back to us, talks to Vincent through a crack in the door. The door shields the front of her body from Vincent.
Mia: Vincent Vega?
Vincent: I'm Vincent, you Mia?
Mia: That's me, pleased to meetcha. I'm still getting dressed. To your left, past the kitchen, is a bar. Why don't you make yourself a drink, have a seat in the living room, and I'll be out within three shakes of a lamb's tail.
Vincent: Take your time.
Mia closes the door. Before she can fully turn around and
show us her face...
We cut:
back to Vincent
standing where he was, music beating, looking at the closed
door. We slowly zoom to the door.
We slowly zoom from a medium shot to CU on Vincent as he
contemplates what's on the other side of the door. When we
reach a CU, he walks out of frame, breaking the spell.
Vincent walks to the bar and pours himself a drink.
We juxtapose as the music plays.
Mia's dress selection is taken out of the closet.
Vincent, drink in hand, moves into the living room.
Mia, her back to camera, dressed in her pretty dress, checks
herself in the mirror. We dolly towards her. Her face is
still obscured.
CU - portrait of Mia
hanging on the living room wall, showing Mia sensually
reclining on a couch.
High angle shot of Vincent
looking up at the portrait.
CU - Mia cutting a huge line of coke on her vanity table with
a credit card.
Vincent sits on a plush, comfy couch.
CU - Mia's nose
snorting the line from a rolled up dollar bill.
Vincent on the couch, drink in hand. The song abruptly cuts
off.
CU - CD player opening
Mia's hand comes in and takes the CD out.
The camera follows behind Mia's bare feet as she walks out of
the dressing room, through the dining room, through the
kitchen and into the living room.
Shot through video camera
Mia has a camcorder and is videotaping Vincent on the couch.
He looks up and sees her.
Mia (os): Smile, you're on Mia's camera!
Vincent: Ready to go?
Mia (os): Not yet. I'm going to interview you first. Are you any relation to Suzanne Vega?
Vincent: Yeah, she's my cousin.
Mia (os): Suzanne Vega the folk singer is your cousin?
Vincent: Suzanne Vega's my cousin. If she's become a folk singer, I sure as hell don't know nothin' about it. But then I haven't been to too many Thanksgivings lately.
Mia (os): Now I'm gonna ask you a bunch of quick questions I've come up with that more of less tell me what kind of person I'm having dinner with. My theory is that when it comes to important subjects, there's only two ways a person can answer. For instance, there's two kinds of people in this world, Elvis people and Beatles people. Now Beatles people can like Elvis. And Elvis people can like the Beatles. But nobody likes them both equally. Somewhere you have to make a choice. And that choice tells me who you are.
Vincent: I can dig it.
Mia (os): I knew you could. First question, Brady Bunch or the Partridge Family?
Vincent: The Partridge Family all the way, no comparison.
Mia (os): On "Rich Man, Poor Man," who did you like, Peter Strauss or Nick Nolte?
Vincent: Nick Nolte, of course.
Mia (os): Are you a "Bewitched" man, or a "Jeannie" man?
Vincent: "Bewitched," all the way, though I always dug how Jeannie always called Larry Hagman "master."
Mia (os): If you were "Archie," who would you fuck first, Betty or Veronica?
Vincent: Betty. I never understood Veronica attraction.
Mia (os): Have you ever fantasized about being beaten up by a girl?
Vincent: Sure.
Mia (os): Who?
Vincent: Emma Peel on "The Avengers." That tough girl who usta hang out with Encyclopedia Brown. And Arlene Motika.
Mia (os): Who's Arlene Motika?
Vincent: Girl from sixth grade, you don't know her.
CU - Mia lowers the camcorder from in front of her face and we get our first full-on look at her. When we do, we get a pretty good idea why Marsellus feels the way he does. She breaks out in a blinding smile.
Mia: Cut. Print. Let's go eat.
In the past six years, 50's diners have sprung up all over LA,
giving Thai restaurants a run for their money. They're all
basically the same. Decor out of an "Archie" comic book,
Golden Oldies constantly emanating from a bubbly Wurlitzer,
saucy waitresses in bobby socks, menus with items like the
Fats Domino Cheeseburger, or the Wolfman Jack Omelette, and
over prices that pay for all this bullshit.
But then there's Jackrabbit Slim's, the big mama of 50's
diners. Either the best or the worst, depending on your point
of view.
Vincent's Malibu pulls up to the restaurant. A big sign with
a neon figure of a cartoon surly cool cat jackrabbit in a red
windbreaker towers over the establishment. Underneath the
cartoon is the name: Jackrabbit Slim's. Underneath that is
the slogan: "Next best thing to a time machine."
Compared to the interior, the exterior was that of a quaint
English pub. Posters from 50's A.I.P. movies are all over the
wall ("Rock All Night," "High School Confidential," "Attack Of
The Crab Monster," and "Machine Gun Kelly"). The booths that
the patrons sit in are made out of the cut up bodies of 50s
cars.
In the middle of the restaurant in a dance floor. A big sign
on the wall states, "No shoes allowed." So wannabe beboppers
(actually Melrose-types), do the twist in their socks or
barefeet.
The picture windows don't look out the street, but instead,
B & W movies of 50's street scenes play behind them. The
Waitresses and Waiters
are made up as replicas of 50's icons:
Marilyn Munroe, Zorro,
James Dean, Donna Reed,
Martin and Lewis, and
the Philip Morris Midget, wait on tables wearing appropriate costumes.
Vincent and Mia study the menu in a booth made out of a red
'59 Edsel. Buddy Holly (their waiter), comes over, sporting a
big button on his chest that says: "Hi I'm Buddy, pleasing
you please me."
Buddy: Hi I'm Buddy, what can I get'cha?
Vincent: I'll have the Douglas Sirk steak.
Buddy: How d'ya want it, burnt to a crisp, or bloody as hell?
Vincent: Bloody as hell. And to drink, a vanilla coke.
Buddy: How 'bout you, Peggy Sue?
Mia: I'll have the Durwood Kirby burger -- bloody -- and a five-dollar shake.
Buddy: How d'ya want that shake, Martin and Lewis, or Amos and Andy?
Mia: Martin and Lewis.
Vincent: Did you just order a five-dollar shake?
Mia: Sure did.
Vincent: A shake? Milk and ice cream?
Mia: Uh-huh.
Vincent: It costs five dollars?
Buddy: Yep.
Vincent: You don't put bourbon in it or anything?
Buddy: Nope.
Vincent: Just checking.
Buddy exits.
Vincent takes a look around the place. The Yuppies are
dancing, the Diners are biting into big, juicy hamburgers, and
the icons are playing their parts. Marilyn is squealing, The
Midget is paging Philip Morris, Donna Reed is making her
customers drink their milk, and Dean and Jerry are acting a
fool.
Mia: Whaddya think?
Vincent: It's like a wax museum with a pulse rate.
Vincent takes out his pouch of tobacco and begins rolling
himself a smoke.
After a second of watching him --
Mia: What are you doing?
Vincent: Rollin' a smoke.
Mia: Here?
Vincent: It's just tobacco.
Mia: Oh. Well in that case, will you roll me one, cowboy?
As he finishes licking it --
Vincent: You can have his one, cowgirl.
He hands her the rolled smoke. She takes it, putting it to her lips. Out of nowhere appears a Zippo lighter in Vincent's hand. He lights it.
Mia: Thanks.
Vincent: Think nothing of it.
He begins rolling one for himself.
As this time, the sound of a subway car fills the diner,
making everything shake and rattle. Marilyn Monroe runs to a
square vent in the floor. An imaginary subway train blows the
skirt of her white dress around her ears as she lets out a
squeal. The entire restaurant applauds.
Back to Mia and Vincent
Mia: Marsellus said you just got back from Amsterdam.
Vincent: Sure did. I heard you did a pilot.
Mia: That was my fifteen minutes.
Vincent: What was it?
Mia: It was show about a team of female secret agents called "Fox Force Five."
Vincent: What?
Mia: "Fox Force Five." Fox, as in we're a bunch of foxy chicks. Force, as in we're a force to be reckoned with. Five, as in there's one..two ..three..four..five of us. There was a blonde one, Sommerset O'Neal from that show "Baton Rouge," she was the leader. A Japanese one, a black one, a French one and a brunette one, me. We all had special skills. Sommerset had a photographic memory, the Japanese fox was a kung fu master, the black girl was a demolition expert, the French fox' specialty was sex...
Vincent: What was your specialty?
Mia: Knives. The character I played, Raven McCoy, her background was she was raised by circus performers. So she grew up doing a knife act. According to the show, she was the deadliest woman in the world with a knife. But because she grew up in a circus, she was also something of an acrobat. She could do illusions, she was a trapeze artist -- when you're keeping the world safe from evil, you never know when being a trapeze artist's gonna come in handy. And she knew a zillion old jokes her grandfather, an old vaudevillian, taught her. If we woulda got picked up, they woulda worked in a gimmick where every episode I woulda told and ol joke.
Vincent: Do you remember any of the jokes?
Mia: Well I only got the chance to say one, 'cause we only did one show.
Vincent: Tell me.
Mia: No. It's really corny.
Vincent: C'mon, don't be that way.
Mia: No. You won't like it and I'll be embarrassed.
Vincent: You told it in front of fifty million people and you can't tell it to me? I promise I won't laugh.
Mia: (laughing) That's what I'm afraid of.
Vincent: That's not what I meant and you know it.
Mia: You're quite the silver tongue devil, aren't you?
Vincent: I meant I wouldn't laugh at you.
Mia: That's not what you said Vince. Well now I'm definitely not gonna tell ya, 'cause it's been built up too much.
Vincent: What a gyp.
Buddy comes back with the drinks. Mia wraps her lips around the straw of her shake.
Mia: Yummy!
Vincent: Can I have a sip of that? I'd like to know what a five-dollar shake tastes like.
Mia: Be my guest.
She slides the shake over to him.
Mia: You can use my straw, I don't have kooties.
Vincent smiles.
Vincent: Yeah, but maybe I do.
Mia: Kooties I can handle.
He takes a sip.
Vincent: Goddamn! That's a pretty fuckin' good milk shake.
Mia: Told ya.
Vincent: I don't know if it's worth five dollars, but it's pretty fuckin' good.
He slides the shake back.
Then the first of an uncomfortable silence happens.
Mia: Don't you hate that?
Vincent: What?
Mia: Uncomfortable silences. Why do we feel it's necessary to yak about bullshit in order to be comfortable?
Vincent: I don't know.
Mia: That's when you know you found somebody special. When you can just shit the fuck up for a minute, and comfortably share silence.
Vincent: I don't think we're there yet. But don't feel bad, we just met each other.
Mia: Well I'll tell you what, I'll go to the bathroom and powder my nose, while you sit here and think of something to say.
Vincent: I'll do that.
Mia powders her nose by doing a big line of coke off the bathroom sink. Her head jerks up from the rush.
Mia: (imitating Steppenwolf) I said goddamn!
Vincent digs into his Douglas Sirk steak. As he chews, his
eyes scan the Hellsapopinish restaurant.
Mia comes back to the table.
Mia: Don't you love it when you go to the bathroom and you come back to find your food waiting for you?
Vincent: We're lucky we got it at all. Buddy Holly doesn't seem to be much of a waiter. We shoulda sat in Marilyn Monroe's section.
Mia: Which one, there's two Marilyn Monroes.
Vincent: No there's not.
Pointing at Marilyn in the white dress serving a table.
Vincent: That's Marilyn Monroe...
Then, pointing at a Blonde Waitress in a tight sweater and capri pants, taking an order from a bunch of Film Geeks --
Vincent: ...and that's Mamie Van Doren. I don't see Jayne Mansfield, so it must be her night off.
Mia: Pretty smart.
Vincent: I have moments.
Mia: Did ya think of something to say?
Vincent: Actually, there's something I've wanted to ask you about, but you seem like a nice person, and I didn't want to offend you.
Mia: Oooohhhh, this doesn't sound like mindless, boring, getting-to-know- you chit-chat. This sounds like you actually have something to say.
Vincent: Only if you promise not to get offended.
Mia: You can't promise something like that. I have no idea what you're gonna ask. You could ask me what you're gonna ask me, and my natural response could be to be offended. Then, through no fault of my own, I woulda broken my promise.
Vincent: Then let's just forget it.
Mia: That is an impossibility. Trying to forget anything as intriguing as this would be an exercise in futility.
Vincent: Is that a fact?
Mia nods her head: "Yes."
Mia: Besides, it's more exciting when you don't have permission.
Vincent: What do you think about what happened to Antwan?
Mia: Who's Antwan?
Vincent: Tony Rocky Horror.
Mia: He fell out of a window.
Vincent: That's one way to say it. Another way is, he was thrown out. Another was is, he was thrown out by Marsellus. And even another way is, he was thrown out of a window by Marsellus because of you.
Mia: Is that a fact?
Vincent: No it's not, it's just what I heard.
Mia: Who told you this?
Vincent: They.
Mia and Vincent smile.
Mia: They talk a lot, don't they?
Vincent: They certainly do.
Mia: Well don't by shy Vincent, what exactly did they say?
Vincent is slow to answer
Mia: Let me help you Bashful, did it involve the F-word?
Vincent: No. They just said Rocky Horror gave you a foot massage.
Mia: And...?
Vincent: No and, that's it.
Mia: You heard Marsellus threw Rocky Horror out of a four-story window because he massaged my feet?
Vincent: Yeah.
Mia: And you believed that?
Vincent: At the time I was told, it seemed reasonable.
Mia: Marsellus throwing Tony out of a four-story window for giving me a foot massage seemed reasonable?
Vincent: No, it seemed excessive. But that doesn't mean it didn't happen. I heard Marsellus is very protective of you.
Mia: A husband being protective of his wife is one thing. A husband almost killing another man for touching his wife's feet is something else.
Vincent: But did it happen?
Mia: The only thing Antwan ever touched of mine was my hand, when he shook it. I met Anwan once -- at my wedding -- then never again. The truth is, nobody knows why Marsellus tossed Tony Rocky Horror out of that window except Marsellus and Tony Rocky Horror. But when you scamps get together, you're worse than a sewing circle.
Vincent: Are you mad?
Mia: Not at all. Being the subject of back-fence gossip goes with the right, I guess.
She takes a sip of her five-dollar shake, and says:
Mia: Thanks.
Vincent: What for?
Mia: Asking my side.
At that moment, a great oldie-but-goodie blasts from the jukebox.
Mia: I wanna dance.
Vincent: I'm not much of a dancer.
Mia: Now I'm the one gettin' gyped. I do believe Marsellus told you to take me out and do whatever I wanted. Well, now I want to dance.
Vincent smiles and begins taking off his boots. Mia
triumphantly casts hers off. He takes her hand, escorting her
to the dance floor. The two face each other for that brief
moment before you begin to dance, than they both break into a
devilish twist. Mia's version of the twist is that of a sexy
cat. Vincent is pure Mr. Cool as he gets into a hip-
swivelling rhythm that would make Mr. Checker proud.
The Other Dancers on the floor are trying to do the same
thing, but Vincent and Mia seem to be strangely shaking their
asses in sync. The two definitely share a rhythm and share
smiles as they sing along with the last verse of the Golden
Oldie.
Cut to:
The front door flings open, and Mia and Vincent dance tango-
style into the house, singing a cappella the song from the
previous scene. They finish their little dance, laughing.
Then...
The two just stand face to face looking at each other.
Vincent: Was than an uncomfortable silence?
Mia: I don't know what that was. (pause) Music and drinks!
Mia moves away to attend to both. Vincent hangs up his overcoat on a big bronze coat rack in the alcove.
Vincent: I'm gonna take a piss.
Mia: That was a little bit more information than I needed to know, but for right ahead.
Vincent shuffles off to the john.
Mia moves to her CD player, thumbs through a stack of CDs and
selects one: k.d. lang. The speakers blast out a high energy
country number, which Mia plays air-guitar to. She dances her
way around the room and finds herself by Vincent's overcoat
hanging on the rack. She touches its sleeve. It feels good.
Her hand hoes in its pocket and pulls out his tobacco pouch.
Like a little girl playing cowboy, she spreads the tobacco on
some rolling paper. Imitating what he did earlier, licks the
paper and rolls it into a pretty good cigarette. Maybe a
little too fat, but not bad for a first try. Mia thinks so
anyway. Her hand reaches back in the pocket and pulls out his
Zippo lighter. She slaps the lighter against her leg, trying
to light it fancy-style like Vince did. What do you know, she
did it! Mia's one happy clam. She triumphantly brings the
fat flame up to her fat smoke, lighting it up, then loudly
snaps the Zippo closed.
The Mia-made cigarette is brought up to her lips, and she
takes a long, cool drag. Her hand slides the Zippo back in
the overcoat pocket. But wait, her fingers touch something
else. Those fingers bring out a plastic bag with white powder
inside, the madman that Vincent bought earlier from Lance.
Wearing a big smile, Mia brings the bag of heroin up to her
face.
Mia: (like you would say Bingo!) Disco! Vince, you little cola nut, you've been holding out on me.
Cut to:
Vincent stands at the sink, washing his hands, talking to himself in the mirror.
Vincent: One drink and leave. Don't be rude, but drink your drink quickly, say goodbye, walk out the door, get in your car, and go down the road.
Living room
Mia has the unbeknownst-to-her heroin cut up into big lines on
her glass top coffee table. Taking her trusty hundred dollar
bill like a human Dust-Buster, she quickly snorts the fat
line.
CU - Mia
her head jerks back. Her hands go to her nose (which feels
like it's on fucking fire), something is terribly wrong.
Then...the rush hits...
Bathroom
Vincent dries his hands on a towel while he continues his
dialogue with the mirror.
Vincent: ...it's a moral test of yourself, whether or not you can maintain loyalty. Because when people are loyal to each other, that's very meaningful.
Living room
Mia is on all fours trying to crawl to the bathroom, but it's
like she's trying to crawl with the bones removed from her
knees. Blood begins to drip from Mia's nose. Then her
stomach gets into the act and she vomits.
Bathroom
Vince continues.
Vincent: So you're gonna go out there, drink your drink, say "Goodnight, I've had a very lovely evening," go home, and jack off. And that's all you're gonna do.
Now that he's given himself a little pep talk, Vincent's ready
for whatever's waiting for him on the other side of that door.
So he goes through it.
Living room
We follow behind Vincent as he walks from the bathroom to the
living room, where he finds Mia lying on the floor like a rag
doll. She's twisted on her back. Blood and puke are down her
front. And her face is contorted. Not out of the tightness
of pain, but just the opposite, the muscles in her face are so
relaxed, she lies still with her mouth wide open. Slack-jawed.
Vincent: Jesus Christ!
Vincent moves like greased lightning to Mia's fallen body.
Bending down where she lays, he puts his fingers on her neck
to check her pulse. She slightly stirs.
Mia is aware of Vincent over her, speaking to her.
Vincent: (sounding weird) Mia! Mia! What the hell happened?
But she's unable to communicate. Mia makes a few lost
mumbles, but they're not distinctive enough to be called
words.
Vincent props her eyelids open and sees the story.
Vincent: (to himself) I'll be a sonofabitch. (to Mia) Mia! Mia! What did you take? Answer me honey, what did you take?
Mia is incapable of answering. He slaps her face hard.
Vincent springs up and runs to his overcoat, hanging on the
rack. He goes through the pockets frantically. It's gone.
Vincent makes a beeline to Mia. We follow.
Vincent: (yelling to Mia) Okay honey, we're getting you on your feet.
He reaches her and hoists the dead weight up in his arms.
Vincent: We're on our feet now, and now we're gonna talk out to the car. Here we go, watch us walk.
We follow behind as he hurriedly walks the practically- unconscious Mia through the house and out the front door.
Insert speedometer: red needle on a hundred.
Vincent driving like a madman in a town without traffic laws,
speeds the car into turns and up and over hills.
Vincent, one hand firmly on the wheel, the other shifting like
Robocop, both eyes staring straight ahead except when he
glances over at Mia.
Mia, slack-jawed expression, mouth gaping, posture of a bag of
water.
Vincent takes a cellular phone out of his pocket. He punches
a number.
At this late hour, Lance has transformed from a bon vivant
drug dealer to a bathrobe creature.
He sits in a big comfy chair, ratty blue gym pants, a worn-out
but comfortable tee-shirt that has, written on it, "Taft,
California," and a moth-ridden terry cloth robe. In his hand
is a bowl of Cap'n Crunch with Crunch Berries. In front of
him on the coffee table is a jug of milk, the box the Cap'n
Crunch with Crunch Berries came out of, and a hash pipe in an
ashtray.
On the big-screen TV in front of the table is the Three
Stooges, and they're getting married.
Preacher (Emil Simkus): (on TV) Hold hands, you love birds.
The phone rings.
Lance puts down his cereal and makes his way to the phone.
It rings again.
Jody, his wife, calls from the bedroom, obviously woken up.
Jody (os): Lance! The phone's ringing!
Lance: (calling back) I can hear it!
Jody (os): I thought you told those fuckin' assholes never to call this late!
Lance: (by the phone) I told 'em and that's what I'm gonna tell this fuckin' asshole right now! (he answers the phone) Hello, do you know how late it is? You're not supposed to be callin' me this fuckin' late.
Back to Vincent in the Malibu. Vincent is still driving like a stripe-assed ape, clutching the phone to his ear. We cut back and forth during the conversation.
Vincent: Lance, this is Vincent, I'm in big fuckin' trouble man, I'm on my way to your place.
Lance: Whoa, hold you horses man, what's the problem?
Vincent: You still got an adrenalin shot?
Lance: (dawning on him) Maybe.
Vincent: I need it man, I got a chick she's fuckin' O.D.ing on me.
Lance: Don't bring her here! I'm not even fuckin' joking with you, don't you be bringing some fucked up pooh- butt to my house!
Vincent: No choice.
Lance: She's O.D.in'?
Vincent: Yeah. She's dyin'.
Lance: Then bite the fuckin' bullet, take 'er to a hospital and call a lawyer!
Vincent: Negative.
Lance: She ain't my fuckin' problem, you fucked her up, you deal with it -- are you talkin' to me on a cellular phone?
Vincent: Sorry.
Lance: I don't know you, who is this, don't come here, I'm hangin' up.
Vincent: Too late, I'm already here.
At that moment inside Lance's house, we hear Vincent's Malibu coming up the street. Lance hangs up the phone, goes to his curtains and yanks the cord. The curtains open with a whoosh in time to see Vincent's Malibu driving up on his front lawn and crashing into his house. The window Lance is looking out of shatters from the impact.
Jody (os): What the hell was that?
Lance charges from the window, out the door to his front lawn.
Vincent is already out of the car, working on getting Mia out.
Lance: Have you lost your mind?! You crashed your car in my fuckin' house! You talk about drug shit on a cellular fuckin' phone --
Vincent: If you're through havin' your little hissy fit, this chick is dyin', get your needle and git it now!
Lance: Are you deaf? You're not bringin' that fucked up bitch in my house!
Vincent: This fucked up bitch is Marsellus Wallace's wife. Now if she fuckin' croaks on me, I'm a grease spot. But before he turns me into a bar soap, I'm gonna be forced to tell 'im about how you coulda saved her life, but instead you let her die on your front lawn.
We start in Lance's and Jody's bedroom.
Jody, in bed, throws off the covers and stands up. She's
wearing a long tee-shirt with a picture of Fred Flintstone on
it.
We follow handheld behind her as she opens the door, walking
through the hall into the living room.
Jody: It's only one-thirty in the goddamn mornin'! What the fuck's goin' on out here?
As she walks in the living room, she sees Vincent and Lance
standing over Mia, who's lying on the floor in the middle of
the room.
From here on in, everything in this scene is frantic, like a
documentary in an emergency ward, with the big difference here
being nobody knows what the fuck they're doing.
Jody: Who's she?
Lance looks up at Jody.
Lance: Get that black box in the bedroom I have with the adrenalin shot.
Jody: What's wrong with her?
Vincent: She's O.D.ing on us.
Jody: Well get her the hell outta here!
Lance and Vincent: (in stereo) Get the fuckin' shot!
Jody: Don't yell and me!
She angrily turns and disappears into the bedroom looking for
the shot.
We move into the room with the two men.
Vincent: (to Lance) You two are a match made in heaven.
Lance: Look, just keep talkin' to her, okay? While she's gettin' the shot, I gotta get a medical book.
Vincent: What do you need a medical book for?
Lance: To tell me how to do it. I've never given an adrenalin shot before.
Vincent: You've had that thing for six years and you never used it?
Lance: I never had to use it. I don't go joy-poppin' with bubble-gummers, all of my friends can handle their highs!
Vincent: Well then get it.
Lance: I am, if you'll let me.
Vincent: I'm not fuckin' stoppin' you.
Lance: Stop talkin' to me, and start talkin' to her.
We follow Lance as he runs out of the living room into a...
with a bunch of junk in it. He frantically starts scanning
the junk for the book he's looking for, repeating the words,
"Come on," endlessly.
From off screen we hear:
Vincent (os): Hurry up man! We're losin' her!
Lance: (calling back) I'm looking as fast as I can!
Lance continues his frenzied search.
We hear Jody in the living room now as she talks to Vincent.
Jody (os): What's he lookin' for?
Vincent (os): I dunno, some medical book.
Jody calls to Lance.
Jody (os): What are you lookin' for?
Lance: My black medical book!
As he continues searching, flipping and knocking over shit, Jody appears in the doorway.
Jody: Whata re you looking for?
Lance: My black fuckin' medical book. It's like a text book they give to nurses.
Jody: I never saw a medical book. Lance: Trust me, I have one.
Jody: Well if it's that important, why didn't you keep it with the shot?
Lance spins toward her.
Lance: I don't know! Stop bothering me!
Jody: While you're lookin' for it, that girl's gonna die on our carpet. You're never gonna find it in all this shit. For six months now, I've been telling you to clean this room --
Vincent (os): -- get your ass in here, fuck the book!
Lance angrily knocks over a pile of shit and leaves the shot heading for the living room.
Vincent is bent over Mia, talking softly to her, when Lance reenters the room.
Vincent: Quit fuckin' around man and give her the shot!
Lance bends down by the black case brought in by Jody. He opens it and begins preparing the needle for injection.
Lance: While I'm doing this, take her shirt off and find her heart.
Vince rips her blouse open.
Jody stumbles back in the room, hanging back from the action.
Vincent: Does it have to be exact?
Lance: Yeah, it has to be exact! I'm giving her an injection in the heart, so I gotta exactly hit her in the heart.
Vincent: Well, I don't know exactly where her heart is, I think it's here.
Vince points to Mia's right breast. Lance glances over and nods.
Lance: That's it.
As Lance readies the injection, Vincent looks up at Jody.
Vincent: I need a big fat magic marker, got one?
Jody: What?
Vincent: I need a big fat magic marker, any felt pen'll do, but a magic marker would be great.
Jody: Hold on.
Jody runs to the desk, opens the top drawer and, in her
enthusiasm, she pulls the drawer out of the desk, the contents
of which (bills, papers, pens) spill to the floor.
The injection is ready. Lance hands Vincent the needle.
Lance: It's ready, I'll tell you what to do.
Vincent: You're gonna give her the shot.
Lance: No, you're gonna give her the shot.
Vincent: I've never does this before.
Lance: I've never does this before either, and I ain't starting now. You brought 'er here, that means you give her the shot. The day I bring an O.D.ing bitch to your place, then I gotta give her the shot.
Jody hurriedly joins them in the huddle, a big fat red magic marker in her hand.
Jody: Got it.
Vincent grabs the magic marker out of Jody's hand and makes a big red dot in Mia's body where her heart is.
Vincent: Okay, what do I do?
Lance: Well, you're giving her an injection of adrenalin straight to her heart. But she's got a breast plate in front of her heart, so you gotta pierce through that. So what you gotta do is bring the needle down in a stabbing motion.
Lance demonstrates a stabbing motion, which looks like "The Shape" killing its victims in "Halloween."
Vincent: I gotta stab her?
Lance: If you want the needle to pierce through to her heart, you gotta stab her hard. Then once you do, push down on the plunger.
Vincent: What happens after that?
Lance: I'm curious about that myself.
Vincent: This ain't a fuckin' joke man!
Lance: She's supposed to come out of it like -- (snaps his fingers) -- that.
Vincent lifts the needle up above his head in a stabbing
motion. He looks down on Mia.
Mia is fading fast. Soon nothing will help her.
Vincent's eyes narrow, ready to do this.
Vincent: Count to three.
Lance, on this knees right beside Vincent, does not know what to expect.
Lance: One...
Red dot on Mia's body.
Needle raised ready to strike.
Lance (os): ...two...
Jody's face is alive with anticipation.
Needle in that air, poised like a rattler ready to strike.
Lance (os): ...three!
The needle leaves frame, thrusting down hard.
Vincent brings the needle down hard, stabbing Mia in the
chest.
Mia's head if jolted from the impact.
The syringe plunger is pushed down, pumping the adrenalin out
through the needle.
Mia's eyes pop wide open and she lets out a hellish cry of the
banshee. She bolts up in a sitting position, needle stuck in
her chest -- screaming.
Vincent, Lance and Jody, who were in sitting positions in
front of Mia, jump back, scared to death.
Mia's scream runs out. She slowly starts taking breaths of
air.
The other three, now scooted halfway across the room, shaken
to their bones, look to see if she's alright.
Lance: If you're okay, say something.
Mia, still breathing, not looking up at them, says in a relatively normal voice.
Mia: Something.
Vincent and Lance collapse on their backs, exhausted and shaking from how close to death Mia came.
Jody: Anybody want a beer?
Cut to:
Vincent is behind the wheel driving Mia home. No one says anything, both are still too shaken.
The Malibu pulls up to the front. Mia gets out without saying a word (still in a daze) and begins walking down the walkway toward her front door.
Vincent (os): Mia!
She turns around.
Vincent's out of the car, standing on the walkway, a big
distance between the two.
Vincent: What are your thoughts on how to handle this?
Mia: What's yours?
Vincent: Well I'm of the opinion that Marsellus can live his whole live and never ever hear of this incident.
Mia smiles.
Mia: Don't worry about it. If Marsellus ever heard of this, I'd be in as much trouble as you.
Vincent: I seriously doubt that.
Mia: If you can keep a secret, so can I.
Vincent: Let's shake on it.
The two walk toward each other, holding out their hands to shake and shake they do.
Vincent: Mum's the word.
Mia lets go of Vincent's hand and silently makes the see-no-
evil, hear-no-evil, and speak-no-evil sign with her hands.
Vincent smiles.
Vincent:
If you'll excuse me, I gotta go
home and have a heart attack.
Mia giggles.
Vincent turns to leave.
Mia: You still wanna hear my "Fox Force Five" joke?
Vincent turns around.
Vincent: Sure, but I think I'm still a little too petrified to laugh.
Mia: Uh-huh. You won't laugh because it's not funny. But if you still wanna hear it, I'll tell it.
Vincent: I can't wait.
Mia: Three tomatoes are walking down the street, a poppa tomato, a momma tomato, and a little baby tomato. The baby tomato is lagging behind the poppa and momma tomato. The poppa tomato gets mad, goes over to the momma tomato and stamps on him -- (STAMPS on the ground) -- and says: catch up.
They both smile, but neither laugh.
Mia: See ya 'round, Vince.
Mia turns and walks inside her house.
CU - Vincent
after Mia walks inside. Vincent continues to look at where
she was. He brings his hands to his lips and blows her a
kiss. Then exits frame leaving it empty. We hear his Malibu
start up and drive awy.
Fade to black
on the cartoon "Speed Racer."
Off screen we hear a Woman's Voice....
Speed is giving a detailed description of all the features on
his race car "The Mac-5," which he does at the beginning of
every episode.
WOMAN'S VOICE (os): Butch.
Dissolve to:
Butch's POV
We're in the living room of a modest two bedroom house in
Alhambra, California, in the year 1972.
Butch'S MOTHER, 35ish, stands in the doorway leading into the
living room. Next to her is a man dressed in the uniform of
an American Air Force officer. The camera is the perspective
of a five-year old boy.
Mother: Butch, stop watching TV a second. We got a special visitor. Now do you remember when I told you your daddy dies in a P.O.W. camp?
Butch (os): Uh-huh.
Mother: Well this here is Capt. Koons. He was in the P.O.W. camp with Daddy.
Capt. Koons: steps inside the room toward the little boy and bends down on one knee to bring him even with the boy's eyeline. When Koons speaks, he speaks with a slight Texas accent.
Capt. Koons: Hello, little man. Boy I sure heard a bunch about you. See, I was a good friend of your Daddy's. We were in that Hanoi pit of hell over five years together. Hopefully, you'll never have to experience this yourself, but when two men are in a situation like me and your Daddy were, for as long as we were, you take on certain responsibilities of the other. If it had been me who had not made it, Major Coolidge would be talkin' right now to my son Jim. But the way it worked out is I'm talkin' to you, Butch. I got somethin' for ya.
The Captain pulls a gold wrist watch out of his pocket.
Capt. Koons: This watch I got here was first purchased by your great-granddaddy. It was bought during the First World War in a little general store in Knoxville, Tennessee. It was bought by private Doughboy Ernie Coolidge the day he set sail for Paris. It was your great- granddaddy's war watch, made by the first company to ever make wrist watches. You see, up until then, people just carried pocket watches. Your great-granddaddy wore that watch every day he was in the war. Then when he had done his duty, he went home to your great- grandmother, took the watch off his wrist and put it in an ol' coffee can. And in that can it stayed 'til your grandfather Dane Coolidge was called upon by his country to go overseas and fight the Germans once again. This time they called it World War Two. Your great-granddaddy gave it to your granddad for good luck. Unfortunately, Dane's luck wasn't as good as his old man's. Your granddad was a Marine and he was killed with all the other Marines at the battle of Wake Island. Your granddad was facing death and he knew it. None of those boys had any illusions about ever leavin' that island alive. So three days before the Japanese took the island, your 22-year old grandfather asked a gunner on an Air Force transport named Winocki, a man he had never met before in his life, to deliver to his infant son, who he had never seen in the flesh, his gold watch. Three days later, your grandfather was dead. But Winocki kept his word. After the war was over, he paid a visit to your grandmother, delivering to your infant father, his Dad's gold watch. This watch. This watch was on your Daddy's wrist when he was shot down over Hanoi. He was captured and put in a Vietnamese prison camp. Now he knew if the gooks ever saw the watch it's be confiscated. The way your Daddy looked at it, that watch was your birthright. And he'd be damned if and slopeheads were gonna put their greasy yella hands on his boy's birthright. So he hid it in the one place he knew he could hide somethin'. His ass. Five long years, he wore this watch up his ass. Then when he died of disentary, he gave me the watch. I hid with uncomfortable hunk of metal up my ass for two years. Then, after seven years, I was sent home to my family. And now, little man, I give the watch to you.
Capt. Koons hands the watch to Butch. A little hand comes
into frame to accept it.
Cut to:
The 27-year old Butch Coolidge is dressed in boxing regalia:
trunks, shoes and gloves. He lies on a table catching a few
zzzzzz's before his big fight. Almost as soon as we cut to
him, he wakes up with a start. Shaken by the bizarre memory,
he wipes his sweaty face with his boxing glove.
His trainer Klondike, an older fireplug, opens the door a
little, sticking his head in the room. Pandemonium seems to
be breaking out behind Klondike in the hallway.
Klondike: It's time, Butch.
Butch I'm ready.
Klondike steps inside, closing the door on the Wild Mob
outside. He goes to the long yellow robe hanging on a hook.
Butch hops off the table and, without a word, Klondike helps
him on with the robe, which says on the back: "Battling Butch
Cooliodge."
The two men head for the door. Klondike opens the door for
Butch. As Butch steps into the hallway, the Crowd goes
apeshit. Klondike closes the door behind him, leaving us in
the quiet, empty locker room.
Fade to black
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The Umptieth ![]() Site |
The Script.
1. Prologue |