#12. Zead's Dead
BUTCH: Fabienne! Fabienne! Fabienne! Come on, baby.
Come on, get your shit. We gotta go right now.
FABIENNE: Butch, I was so worried!
FABIENNE: But what about our bags?
BUTCH: Fuck the bags. If we don't split right now, we're gonna miss the train. Come on.
I'll be downstairs.
FABIENNE: Is everything well?
BUTCH: Just come on! No talking now!
FABIENNE: Are we in danger?
BUTCH: Come on, honey!
FABIENNE: Where did you get this motorcycle?
BUTCH: It's not a motorcycle, baby. it's a chopper. Come on, let's go.
FABIENNE: What happened to my Honda?
BUTCH: I'm sorry, baby, I had to crash that Honda. Will you come on now, please! Come on.
Let's go, let's go, let's go.
FABIENNE: You're hurt?
BUTCH: No, no. I might have broken my nose, no biggie. Come on, hop on!
BUTCH: Baby, please! Honey, we gotta hit the fuckin' road! Get on!
BUTCH: Oh, I'm sorry. Come here, come here. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
FABIENNE: You were gone so long, I started to think dreadful thoughts.
BUTCH: I'm sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to worry you. Everything's fine. Hey, how was breakfast?
FABIENNE: It was good.
BUTCH: Did you get the pancakes? The blueberry pancakes?
FABIENNE: No, they didn't have blueberry pancakes, I had to get buttermilk – are you sure you're okay?
BUTCH: Honey, since I left you, this has been without a doubt the single weirdest fuckin' day of my life. Come on, hop on. I'll tell you all about it. Come on, get on. Gotta go! Gotta go! Come on.
FABIENNE: Butch, whose motorcycle is this?
BUTCH: It's a chopper, baby.
FABIENNE: Whose chopper is this?
BUTCH: Zed's.
FABIENNE: Who's Zed?
BUTCH: Zed's dead, baby, Zed's dead.
