The Airing of Grievances
Monday, November 15, 2004
Noice summary Frank.

Let's hope that Powell leaves it all on the field and goes off like Marsellus Wallace on Cheney and Rumsfeld.

Butch: You okay?
Marsellus: Naw man. I'm pretty f'in' far from okay.
Butch: What now?
Marsellus: What now? Let me tell you what now. I'ma call a coupla hard, pipe-hittin' niggaz, who'll go to work on the homes here with a pair of pliers and a blow torch. You hear me talkin', hillbilly boy? I ain't through with you by a damn sight. I'ma get medieval on your ass.
Butch: I meant what now between me and you?
Marsellus: Oh, that "what now." I tell you what now between me and you. There is no me and you. Not no more.
Butch: So we cool?
Marsellus: Yeah, we cool. Two things. Don't tell nobody about this. This shit is between me, you, and Mr. Soon-to-be-living-the-rest-of-his-short-ass-life-in-agonizing-pain-rapist here. It ain't nobody else's business. Two: you leave town tonight, right now. And when you're gone, you stay gone, or you be gone. You lost all your [DC] privileges. Deal?

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