— Whose motorcycle is this?
— It's a chopper, baby.
— Whose chopper is this?
— Zed's.
— Who is Zed?
— Zed is dead, baby, Zed is dead.
— You know what they put on French fries in Holland instead of ketchup?
— What?
— Mayonnaise.
— Goddamn.
— I've seen 'em do it, man. They fuckin' drown 'em in that shit.
— I have character.
— Because you are a character doesn't mean that you have character.
Hey, Vincent. See, that shit don't matter. You're judging this shit the wrong way. It could be God stopped the bullets, changed Coke to Pepsi, found my car keys. You don't judge shit like this based on merit. Now, whether or not what we experienced… was an according-to-Hoyle miracle is insignificant. But what is significant is, I felt the touch of God. God got involved.
— Well, you know the shows on TV?
— I don't watch TV.
— Yes, but you're aware that there's an invention called television, and on that invention they show shows?
— Does he look… Like a bitch?
— No!
— Then why you tryin' to fuck him like a bitch?
— I didn't.
— Yes, you did. Yes, you did, Brett!
— You tried to fuck him.
— No, no.
— But Marsellus Wallace don't like to be fucked by anybody except Mrs. Wallace.
— And if we would have got picked up, they would've worked in a gimmick… where every show I would've told another joke.
— You know any of them old jokes?
— Well, I only got the chance to say one 'cause we only did one show.
— Tell me.
— It's corny. Don't be that way.
— Tell me.
– No, you wouldn't like it, and I'd be embarrassed.
— You'd be embarr. You told 50 million people, and you can't tell me? I promise I won't laugh.
— That's what I'm afraid of, Vince.
— That's not what I meant. You know it.
Three tomatoes are walking down the street: a poppa tomato, a momma tomato, and a little baby tomato. Baby tomato starts lagging behind. Poppa tomato gets angry, goes over to the baby tomato, and smooshes him… and says: «Catch up!»
— You okay?
— No, man. I'm pretty fuckin' far from okay.