By Dave Riley "Tell me this: would you give me a foot massage?" "A what ...!" "I'm asking you — would you give another bloke a foot massage? You reckon you're king in that department, so would ya?" "Stuff you." "That's my point. There's lots more happening. You're doing this with the thumbs and you're thinkin' ... you know what you're thinkin'. You're thinking about making your mark in the holy of holies." "You wanna know what I'm thinkin'? You really wanna know what I'm thinkin'? I'm thinkin' that if John Howard makes it to main man, you and me is history. That'll be it for the likes of you and me. No-one will wanna know us. Where's the justice in that? It's like there ain't no ethics any more. Hell, without ethics all you're gonna have is the law of the jungle. "In our business you gotta have a little loyalty sometimes. And without that, man, it's each man for himself — and lady too. I reckon it all comes down to who's in control. And let's face it, man, out there we're the boss. They want something — they gotta come to us. They keep the faith. And we keep order. That's the way it's always been. And then this Howard asshole comes along and wants to take us out. Suddenly we're not in the picture any more." "What you're saying is we're history." "I'm saying that it's a question of ethics. For chrissake, even the friggin' pope is on our side. This consensus business we're been workin' under for some time ..." "You mean the Accord." "Yeah, the accord. Well, that there Accord ain't no chickenshit slip of paper. It's a sacred oath. Before God, we agreed to keep order. In return, they said they'd look after us. It was holy writ, man — the brothers and sisters signed it with their own blood and we laid down our weapons and put the grapes of wrath aside. But where's the promise of Zion now with this Howard bastard breathing down our necks? It ain't fair, man, it ain't friggin' fair! For all the loyalty we delivered (and remember how hard it was to deliver) there ain't no ethics on offer to match it." "So what's stopping us takin' what's rightfully ours? If Howard wants to muscle in on our turf, we can show him the door." "You're forgetting how big a price we paid stitching up the members behind the deal and keeping the brothers and sisters quiet. Our collateral ain't so high out there. It cost us plenty. After calling them all in, we're plumb out of favours. So this Howard asshole can afford to laugh because out there, we stink." "Hell, it can't be all that bad." "No, we stink, man. You and me is on the nose. And I'm telling you if he's in, you and me is out. I call it the way I see it, and from where I'm sitting this time, it's for real and our union jobs are on the line." "No shit. What a friggin' bastard."
Too much is too much: Pulp Fiction