scene 75, pulp fiction
75. INT. JIMMIE'S KITCHEN - MORNING 75.
Three men are standing in Jimmie's kitchen, each with a mug of
coffee. Jules, Vincent and JIMMIE DIMMICK, a young man in his
late-20s dressed in a bathrobe.
Goddamn Jimmie, this is some
serious gourmet shit. Me an'
Vincent woulda been satisfied with
freeze-dried Tasters Choice. You
spring this gourmet fuckin' shit on
us. What flavor is this?
Knock it off, Julie.
I'm not a cobb or corn, so you can
stop butterin' me up. I don't need
you to tell me how good my coffee
is. I'm the one who buys it, I
know how fuckin' good it is. When
Bonnie goes shoppin;, she buys
shit. I buy the gourmet expensive
stuff 'cause when I drink it, I
wanna taste it. But what's on my
mind at this moment isn't the
coffee in my kitchen, it's the dead
nigger in my garage.
-- I'm talkin'. Now let me ask you
a question, Jules. When you drove
in here, did you notice a sign out
front that said, "Dead nigger
Jules starts to "Jimmie" him --
-- answer to question. Did you see
a sign out in front of my house
that said, "Dead nigger storage?"
Naw man, I didn't.
You know why you didn't see that
'Cause storin' dead niggers ain't
my fuckin' business!
Jules starts to "Jimmie" him.
-- I ain't through! Now don't you
understand that if Bonnie comes
home and finds a dead body in her
house, I'm gonna get divorced. No
marriage counselor, no trial
separation -- fuckin' divorced.
And I don't wanna get fuckin'
divorced. The last time me an'
Bonnie talked about this shit was
gonna be the last time me an'
Bonnie talked about this shit. Now
I wanna help ya out Julie, I really
do. But I ain't gonna lose my wife
-- don't fuckin' Jimmie me, man, I
can't be Jimmied. There's nothin'
you can say that's gonna make me
forget I love my wife. Now she's
workin' the graveyard shift at the
hospital. She'll be comin' home in
less than an hour and a half. Make
your phone calls, talk to your
people, than get the fuck out of my
That's all we want. We don't wanna
fuck up your shit, We just need to
call our people to bring us in.
Then I suggest you get to it.
Phone's in my bedroom.
As Jules crosses the room, exiting.
(calling behind him)
You're a friend, Jimmie, you're a
good fuckin' friend!
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm
a real good friend. Good friend,
bad husband, soon to be ex-husband.
(look up and sees
Who the fuck are you?
I'm Vincent. And Jimmie, thanks a
The two men laugh.
Don't mention it.