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Vincent: I got a threshold, Jules. I got a threshold for the abuse I'll take. And right now I'm a race car and you got me in the red. I'm just sayin' that it's fuckin' dangerous to have a race car in the fuckin' red. It could blow.
Jules: Oh, you're gettin' ready to blow?
Vincent: I could blow.
Jules: Well, I'm a mushroom-cloud-layin' mother fucker, mother fucker! Everytime my finger touch brain I'm SUPERFLY T.N.T, I'm the GUNS OF THE NAVARONE. In fact, what the fuck and I doin' in the back? You're the mother fucker should be on brain detail. We're fuckin' switchin' right now. I'm washing the windows and you're pickin' up this nigger's skull.
Pulp Fiction
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