Prelude to “Vincent Vega and Marsellus Wallace’s Wife” Quentin Tarantino (Ft. Frank Whaley, John Travolta, Phil LaMarr & Samuel L. Jackson)

"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 do you want to know?

JULES: Well, hash is legal there, right?

VINCENT: Yeah, it's legal, but it 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.

JULES: Those are hash bars?

VINCENT: Yeah, it breaks down like this: it's legal to buy it, it's legal to own it and, if you're the proprietor of a hash bar, it's legal to sell it. It's legal to carry it, which doesn't really matter cause – get a load of this – if the cops stop you, it's illegal for them to search you. Searching you is a right that the cops in Amsterdam don't have.

JULES: That did it, man – I'm fuckin' goin', that's all there is to it.

VINCENT: You'll dig it the most. But you know what the funniest thing about Europe is?

JULES: What?

VINCENT: It's the little differences. A lotta the same shit we got here, they got there, but there they're a little different.