#5. Butch&Marcellus

MARSELLUS: When all this shit is over and done...

I think you're gonna find yourself one smilin' motherfucker.

Thing is Butch, right now, you got ability.

But painful as it may be, ability don't last. And your days are just about over.

Now that's a hard motherfuckin' fact of life.

But it's a fact of life your ass is gonna have to get realistic about.

You see, this business is filled to the brim with unrealistic motherfuckers.

Motherfuckers who thought their ass would age like wine.

If you mean it turns to vinegar... it does.

If you mean it gets better with age...it don't.

Besides, Butch, how many fights you think you got in you anyway?

Hmm? Two? Boxers don't have an old-timers' day.

You came close, but you never made it.

And if you were gonna make it, you would have made it before now.

MARSELLUS: You my nigger?

BUTCH: Certainly appears so.

MARCELLUS: The night of the fight, you may feel a slight sting.

That's pride fuckin' with you. Fuck pride!

Pride only hurts. It never helps. You fight through that shit.

'Cause a year from now, when you're kickin' it in the Caribbean, you gonna say to yourself, "Marsellus Wallace was right."

BUTCH: I got no problem with that, Mr. Wallace.

MARSELLUS: In the fifth, your ass goes down.

MARSELLUS: Say it!

BUTCH: In the fifth, my ass goes down.