Henrik Ibsen's "Pulp Fiction" (an excerpt)

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INT. APARTMENT (ROOM 49) – MORNING

Jules shoots Roger on the couch. Brett reacts with horror.

Jules: (to Brett) Oh, do forgive me. I appear to have broken your concentration. I assure you, that was not my intent. By all means, please continue. Something about “best intentions,” I believe? Oh … Is something the matter? Ah, I see! You have completed your apologia! Very well. With your permission, my retort shall be a query.
Brett: I fail to grasp your meaning!
Jules: Then you are clearly not from this country.
Brett: Your meaning is still opaque, sir!
Jules: Opaque? Opaque? I’ve never heard of such a country! Do they speak Norwegian in Opaque?
Brett: Norwegian?
Jules: Yes, you Oedipal afterbirth. Norwegian! Are you fluent in this language?
Brett: Yes! 
Jules: Ah. Then you do grasp my meaning. 
Brett: Admittedly so.
Jules: Then please describe for me the physical appearance of Marsellus Wallace.
Brett: Excuse me?
Jules: No, sir! I will not excuse you! I will repeat the question—and caution you of dire and dreadful consequences if you respond with an “opaque” reply.
Brett: Sorry. What was the question?
Jules: Please describe for me the physical appearance of Marsellus Wallace.
Brett: Oh. Well. His head is entirely devoid of hair.
Jules: Ah. Does he by chance resemble a female dog?
Brett: Excuse me?

Jules shoots Brett in the shoulder.