Pulp fiction (Pulp Fiction) (№ 385175)

- What's next?
- What's next? I'll tell you what's next. I'll call a couple of steep, stoned niggers with a blowtorch and pliers, so they have been dealing with these clowns. Hear you me, genomes, I'm still far from finished. You will have the Inquisition in OPU.
- No, what about us?
- Here you're talking about? I will say that about us. More fuckin no you and me.
- We're even?
- Yes, even. But bear in mind, don't tell anyone about it. Let him know only me, you and Mr banger, who will soon be writhing in fucking agony to death. Anyone else is not important. Two : you leave town, now. More here or foot, otherwise you concrete. In Los Angeles you don't expect. Is? Get out of here!
- Comes.