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VINCENT VEGA  (Pulp Fiction)

~"I ain't saying it's right. But you're saying a foot massage don't mean nothing, and I'm saying it does. Now look, I've given a million ladies a million foot massages, and they all meant something. We act like they don't, but they do, and that's what's so fucking cool about them. There's a sensuous thing going on where you don't talk about it, but you know it, she knows it, fucking Marsellus knew it, and Antwone should have fucking better known better. I mean, that's his fucking wife, man. He can't be expected to have a sense of humor about that shit. You know what I'm saying? "~

 

Vincent lives in Redondo Beach and drives a red 1960s era Chevrolet Malibu convertible which was in storage while he was in the Netherlands. Mia calls Vincent an Elvis man. He wears a bolo tie with his suit, has long hair pulled back into a ponytail, rolls his own cigarettes, uses heroin and orders his Douglas Sirk Steak "bloody as hell." Although Vincent says he does not watch TV he often knowledgeably refers to television shows in conversations. At the time of the story he is now and then seen reading a copy of Modesty Blaise. He expresses scrupulous loyalty towards his boss Marsellus. Whenever he goes to the bathroom something unfortunate occurs; Mia accidentally overdoses when she finds his heroin in a baggie rather than a balloon and mistakes it for cocaine, the coffee shop is robbed and later, Vincent is killed by Butch.

 

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