Jules Pulp Fiction Speech Novels & Stories

Jules screamed, raising her voice. Paaa!! A hard slap landed on Gigi’s face. I got startled when I noticed it was my babe hands on Gigi’s ugly face. I never felt remorse neither did I pitied the ugly plus-sized girl anyways. “You must be so stupid to think my man will leave me just to stoop so fucking low to a classless thing like you, have you ever checked yourself in the mirror? Do you think a good man can come to you? No they can never date a disgusting thing like you.” Jules said, brimming in anger.

Dangerous, unpredictable, and useful. I pressed call. He picked up on the second ring. "Well, well." His voice slithered through the speaker. "The prodigal son." "Shut up." "Rough night?" I didn't answer. Jules laughed—that low, grating sound that made my skin crawl. "I heard about your little visit to the bastard's mansion. How'd that go?" "You knew?” “Why wouldn’t I?." A pause. "You really thought you could storm in there and scare him off?"

He just stared at me, his dark, dead eyes calculating the distance between my hand and the iron grate, and for a terrifying, suffocating second, I thought he was going to pull the trigger anyway. He was a professional, a man who killed for a living, and he probably figured he could shoot me and catch the phone before it hit the water. But then, a slow, wet cough rattled in his chest, and his grip on the gun shifted just a fraction as his shattered kneecap screamed in agony. "You're bluffing, Jules," Roman wheezed, spitting another glob of bloody saliva onto the concrete. "You're a terrified college kid with a broken wrist and a bleeding throat. You don't have the guts to destroy the only lev

I nodded and soon, I was handing over a glass to both of them as I took the sofa opposite them. Three of them remained mute for a couple of minutes, relishing the silence as they sipped from their respective glass cups. “You mentioned that you had to speak to me about something before you retired for the night if I remember correctly,” I began, swirling the contents in my cup. “Yes, I did.” Jules cleared his throat. “It’s a rather niggling feeling that I have to address to make peace with myself.” “Let’s hear it then, shall we?” I leaned into the sofa as I stared at my brothers.

I joked with a smile as i turned to the box. "Ever since Harry, and you know, working shifts in a coffee shop ain't gonna pay my rent" I paused after she let out a shrill laughter. "I'm sorry about, Wu" She said, hesitantly. "Oh, it's not your fault-" I waved off with a scoff. "I did testify about the tapes" Jules continued as she picked up the box, placing it in the corner of the room. And just as i bent by the corridor, i sighted my uncle-

I said, meeting his devastated eyes, "tomorrow morning, someone will take you to the quiet rehabilitation center on the outskirts of the city. I'll have people clean up that old house your parents left you. From now on, you'll have to take care of yourself." With that, I walked away without looking back. Behind me came Nick's broken cries, and Tina gasping on the floor like a dying stray. The crystal chandeliers in the club still glittered, but what they illuminated now was nothing more than the ruins of a party long over. Outside the doors, the night wind was cool. I looked up at the sky. A thin cloud drifted alone. 'Grandpa, I didn't let you down,' I thought. … News of my withdrawing my in

She deserves the truth. Once my resolution is made, I fall asleep. Unfortunately, my morning doesn’t work out as it should. Feeling the sun on my face, I blink my eyes and take a moment to orient myself. My thoughts are sluggish, and my body aches with my movements. As carefully as I can, I rise from the couch and head to the shower. Once I’m awake, I begin to recall last night’s events. Snapping up, I mutter a curse, dry myself quickly, slide on some jeans, and step out of the room. Unfortunately, the bed is empty. Jules is gone. I don’t understand why she left. Is she angry at how abrupt I was with her? Fuck!

They were all way out of my comfort zone, but I would have to deal with it. "I think you're ready, girl. My little depressed baby is now a whore." She says proudly. We were sitting back on the couch and Jules had just finished telling me all the tricks and things I needed to know in order for this to work. I hit her head, "I am not a whore." I reply, offended. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say." "Alright. I'm going to go to bed." I yawn and get up from the sofa. "Love you. Goodnight." Jules replies, following my actions.

“And then I stayed with you. I poured blood into your wound, and your mouth. I held you night and day. I knew that you were in there… I could not let you go.” “I died,” Jules swallowed hard. “Perhaps,” Sigrid replied carefully. “It is a mystery. One that we’re very intrigued by. Do you remember anything of that time?” Jules was already shaking his head. “I remember… moments. Only moments,” his voice broke on the words. “I remembered June Barnham’s face as she shot me… I know her name… I know I have seen her before. I cannot remember where though. I know Cameron, my son… I remember… His face, his hair… But…” He gestured with his good hand helplessly. “I remember waking and seeing Harry… so sm

Then she spoke, and every syllable sounded like it had been soaked in venom. “Humph! I see the scandal finally comes home.” I stiffened, but I didn’t speak. Dominic didn’t, either. Jules just glared like she would love to show Mrs Blackwood a thing or two about respect. She took a step forward, her heels clicking against the marble like gunshots in a church. “I wasn’t sure what kind of woman could seduce a man like my son,” she continued, folding her arms. “Now I understand. Not a woman. A parasite. You climbed out of one man’s bed and crawled directly into another’s bank account. Are you not ashamed?”