Pulp Fiction Page #5

YOUNG WOMAN:

Got it.

They both take out their .32-caliber pistols and lay them on

the table. He looks at her and she back at him.

YOUNG WOMAN:

I love you, Pumpkin.

YOUNG MAN:

I love you, Honey Bunny.

And with that, Pumpkin and Honey Bunny grab their weapons,

stand up and rob the restaurant. Pumpkin's robbery persona

is that of the in-control professional. Honey Bunny's is

that of the psychopathic, hair-triggered, loose cannon.

PUMPKIN:

(yelling to all)

Everybody be cool! This is a robbery!

HONEY BUNNY:

Any of you f***ing pricks move and

I'll execute every motherfucking last

one of you!

CUT TO:

CREDIT SEQUENCE:

"PULP FICTION"

INT. '74 CHEVY (MOVING) – MORNING

An old gas guzzling, dirty, white 1974 Chevy Nova BARRELS

down a homeless-ridden street in Hollywood. In the front

seat are two young fellas – one white, one black – both

wearing cheap black suits with thin black ties under long

green dusters. Their names are VINCENT VEGA (white) and JULES

WINNFIELD (black). Jules is behind the wheel.

JULES:

– Okay now, tell me about the hash

bars?

VINCENT:

What so you want to know?

JULES:

Well, hash is legal there, right?

VINCENT:

Yeah, it's legal, but is ain't a

hundred percent legal. I mean you

can't walk into a restaurant, roll a

joint, and start puffin' away. You're

only supposed to smoke in your home

or certain designated places.

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