Friday, February 3, 2017

What Happened in Amsterdam

Jules and Vincent Vega stand under a dead tree in a wasted stretch of land not far from Amsterdam. A black attache case leans against the tree, mostly hidden in shadow.

Vincent: I don’t know about you, but I’m fucking sick of waiting.
Vic: Nah, Vince. I fucking love it. Let’s talk philosophy.
Vincent: Fuck you. 

Tosses cigarette. It lands on wasted ground. Which catches on fire.

Vincent: Jesus? Did you see that? That’s dirt. The fucking dirt caught on fire.
Vic: One step ahead you.

Walks up. Pisses fire out.

Vincent: Gotta watch that shit, bro. Can’t play with matches these parts.
Vic: Goddamn. What the fuck happened here?
Vincent: Chemical spill.
Vincent: Jesus. This is a nice country, especially around up the road a few miles. Man, I fucking love Amsterdam. They got restaurants, hash bars, big windows with naked ladies in 'em, lot of nice places. And that asshole wants to meet here?
Vic: Nah. That asshole want us here. I don’t think he’s coming.
Vincent: Then let’s go to him.
Vic: Read my mind, brother.

They simultaneously slide the racks on two identical chrome 45s. Leave the scene.

Hold on tree. Title fades in:

This time, no more waiting.

Keep holding on tree.

Vic: (OS) Forgetting something?
Vincent: (OS) Oh, fuck me.

Vincent walks back, picks up black attache case. Walks out of frame.

Fade to black.

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