I don't know why, I just thought he'd be European or something.
-Yeah, he's about as European as fuckin' English Bob. -I know that now.
-But was he cool or what? -Thank you. -Totally fuckin' cool.
In control. Didn't even really get pissed when you were fuckin' with him; I was amazed.
-Want some bacon? -No, man, I don't eat pork.
-Are you Jewish? -I ain't Jewish; I just don't dig on swine, that's all.
-Why not? -Pigs are filthy animals. I don't eat filthy animals.
Yeah, but bacon tastes good. Pork chops taste good.
Sewer rat may taste like pumpkin pie, but I'd never know... 'cause I wouldn't eat the filthy motherfuckers.
Pigs sleep and root in shit. That's a filthy animal.
I ain't eatin' nothin' ain't got sense enough to disregard its own feces.
-What about a dog? Dog eats its own feces. -I don't eat dog either.
Yeah, but do you consider a dog to be a filthy animal?
I wouldn't go so far as to call a dog filthy, but they're definitely dirty.
But a dog's got personality. Personality goes a long way.
Ah, so, by that rationale, if a pig had a better personality, he would cease to be a filthy animal. Is that true?
We'd have to be talkin' about one charming motherfuckin' pig.
I mean, he'd have to be ten times more charming than that Arnold on Green Acres.
Oh, man, that's good.
That's good, man. You're startin' to lighten up.
-You've been sittin' there, all serious and shit. -I just been sittin' here, thinkin'.
-About what? -About the miracle we witnessed.
Miracle you witnessed. I witnessed a freak occurrence.
-What is a miracle, Vincent? -Act of God.
And what's an act of God?
When, um, God makes the impossible possible.
But this morning... I don't think qualifies.
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.
-But why? -Well, that's what's fuckin' with me: I don't know why. But I can't go back to sleep.
You're serious. You're really thinkin' about quittin'.
-Our work? -Yeah.
-Most definitely. -Fuck.
What you gonna do then?
Well, that's what I been sitting here contemplating.
First I'm gonna deliver this case to Marsellus.
Then, basically, I'm just gonna walk the Earth.
-What you mean, "walk the Earth"? -Like Caine in Kung Fu.
-Walk from place to place, meet people, get in adventures. -And how long do you intend to walk the Earth?
-'Til God puts me where He wants me to be. -What if He don't do that?
If it takes forever, then I'll walk forever.
So you decided to be a bum.
I'll just be Jules, Vincent. No more, no less.
No, Jules, you decided to be a bum,
just like all those pieces of shit out there who beg for change, who sleep in garbage bins, eat what I throw a way.
They got a name for that, Jules. It's called a bum.
And without a job, a residence or legal tender, that's what you're gonna be, man. You're gonna be fuckin' bum.
-Look, my friend, this is just where you and I differ. -Garçon!
-Coffee! -Jules, look, what happened this morning, man, I agree it was peculiar.
-But water into wine, I-- -All shapes and sizes, Vincent.
Don't fuckin' talk to me that way, man.
If my answers frighten you, then you should cease asking scary questions.
I'm gonna take a shit.
Let me ask you something. When did you make this decision? When you were sittin' there eatin' that muffin?
Yeah. I was sittin' here eatin' my muffin, drinkin' my coffee, replayin' the incident in my head,
when I had what alcoholics refer to as a moment of clarity.
Fuck. To be continued.