Cab Driver In Pulp Fiction Novels & Stories

Caine began to make small talk with the driver until he relaxed and got comfortable with him, that's when Caine made his move. "Sir, what color is your pass?" Caine asked innocently. "Why do you ask?" The man returned politely. "Well, I see that most of them are white, but a few people seem to have a pass of a different color," Caine explained. "Oh," the driver said as he laughed and handed Caine his red VIP pass. "This is the VIP pass," the driver said, "it gets you into the good parking area, they have a driver's lounge and all," the driver explained with a smirk on his face.

I didn't want to break down and face more mockery. “Wanna talk about it, Miss?” the cab driver asked. I scowled at him, “Why? So you'd charge me more?” The cab driver laughed, “No hard feelings, Miss. I was just doing my job. We all have to survive in this place.” “I’m fine, thank you,” I stated. The man shrugged, “Suit yourself but I know you aren't fine.” “How? Are you a psychic?” I snapped at him. “Aside from the obvious walk of shame you took at the bank I know you're not happy because I majored in psychology.”

Peanut saw to his hand quickly, but another had then grabbed me by the waist. I’d spun around and started swating at his head, scratching at his face and screaming as the driver came out to deal with the rest of them. Eventually, I’d got him off of me enough for the use of my legs. Two high heels to the gut knocked the air out of him and he’d stumbled back. Luca came over and finished him off with a bullet to the back of his head off jumping into the car and we’d sped off.

I assure him. “Real gold?” He scruff his beards and turn to stare at it, then turns back to face the wheel. “Yes, real gold.” My heart thumping fast, praying he accepts. The cab driver’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror, a silent exchange that holds a shred of compassion. Without another word, he nods, accepting the deal. “Where are we headed, then?” He pulls the gear and the engine growls softly. “I don’t know.” I almost cry out in frustration.

The man was confused that someone had stolen his cab. "HEY... WHY SHOULD YOU ROB ME? I CAN ESCORT YOU!" shouted the taxi driver. James' eyes were burning with anger when the taxi pulled into the basement parking of their apartment. He came out and beat some Yakuzas fighting with Bryan and Aidan, who were half-battered.

I went over to his car and knocked on his window. Drake took his damn time lowering the window. "Nina! What a pleasure to see you!". He faked his smile; I know that because it was evident on his face. "You're happy to see me? Can you please ask your driver not to kill the cab driver?" I turned around, and the driver of the cab was still beating up the cab driver. Drake went over, pulled his driver away, and sent him back to the car. The cab driver was so bewildered that he stared without altering a single word.

the driver said, reaching over to his glove compartment, then tossing back a giant silver roll of tape. Paige instantly knew that her fate was about to take a turn for the worst. "Right on time." Buffalo dropped the tape down beside her head before lifting up one of his knees and using it to pin down one of his arms. And then the next knee, until Paige became handicapped to do anything but writhe around like a helpless fish pulled out of the water. "Tell me when you're ready." Buffalo told the driver. "Okay, hold on. Let me make a turn down the next street." He answered.

law! Swoosh! Just then, a stack of brand new notes rained down on the cabbie. There had to be about ten thousand by estimates alone. Outside the car window, a bodyguard with a crew cut and a black suit asked stiffly, “Can you open the car door now?” “Yes, yes, of course~! Right away!” The driver’s eyes sparkled at all that money, and he opened the cab door as he said, “Hey, get out.”

"Stop making a fool out of me!" When my cab arrived on time, I put all of my things in the passenger seat. Arman grabbed my arm but couldn't control his anger, so he let go of my hand and punched the taxi with his bare hand. The bottom of the cab was destroyed, and the wheel looked like it was too. When I saw that from him, my eyes got immense with fright. The cab driver turned around, and his mouth fell open. "Oh my god, man! What is wrong with you?!"

Paul said at the same time Cynthia opened her mouth to defend him. "Does he look like a serial killer?" She asked, getting angry on behalf of her boyfriend. She paused when she heard what he said. "Are you okay? I am here trying to defend you and you are saying nonsense." She yelled into the night. Paul opened the passenger's side and ungracefully deposited her on the seat. He waved gallantly at the driver, with a wide grin on his handsome face, before he got into his car and sped off. The cab driver looked at the speeding car, concluding that it wasn't only psychos that were roaming the street but crazy people too.