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Samuel L. Jackson as hitman Jules Winnfield in Pulp Fiction
Samuel L. Jackson as hitman Jules Winnfield in Pulp Fiction

Recently, I had a conversation with a friend about the most frigid on-screen lines delivered before someone was morphed into fried chicken. That little chat inspired this compilation of my favorite “cold-blooded shit to say to a motherfucker before” the proverbial cap was busted in they ass.

You know the kind of psychological warfare I’m talking about. The sort of dooming dialogue where you don’t realize that your jaw is slowing opening or that you let out an involuntary but very audible “Ohhh, shit” in a packed theatre.

So strap in and take comfort in the fact that you’ve never heard such verbiage tossed your way. Yet.

You were home

Portrayed with no music and in real time, this scene (in its entirety) is unbearable in a word. However, to hear the reason offered for this particular slaughter is hopeless in another.

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Where will it tickle you?

The senator was already in hell but the good doctor just couldn’t help himself. The most eloquent FUBAR in recollection.

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You didn’t let me finish my sentence

“Wendyyy!”

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God…?

Whenever I view a trailer I’m looking for one thing and one thing only: That “I’m in” moment. When Danny Huston unleashed this gem, my ticket was punched.

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The more you know

Hearing this must have been akin to the immediate reaction one must feel upon waking in a casket six feet under the Earth.

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Everyone has at least one which has stuck with them, these are just a few of mine. What’re yours…?