Spike Spiegel and Jet Black sit at a booth, dressed back in their Black-suits. In front of Spike is a big stack of pancakes and sausages, which he eats with gusto. Jet, on the other hand, just has a cup of coffee and a muffin. He seems far away in thought. The waitress pours a refill for both men. "Thanks a bunch." Spike said.
"Want a sausage, Jet?" Spike asked him.
"No, I do not eat pork." Jet answered.
"Are you Jewish?"
"I am not Jewish, I just do not dig on swine." Jet answered.
"Why not?" Spike said.
"They are filthy fucking animals. I do not eat filthy fucking animals." Jet said.
"Sausages taste good. Pork chops taste fucking good." Spike said.
"A rotting corpse rat may taste like pumpkin pie. I will never know because even if it did, I would not eat the filthy motherfucker. Pigs sleep and root in shit. That is a filthy animal. I do not want to eat nothing that do not have enough sense to disregard it's own feces." Jet explained.
"How about dogs? Dogs eat their own faces."
"I do not eat dog either."
"Yes, but do you consider a dog to be a filthy?" Spike asked.
"I would not go so far to call a dog filthy, but they are definitely dirty. But a dog's got personality. And personality goes a long way." Jet said.
"So by that rationale, if a pig had a better personality, he is cease to be a filthy animal?" Spike asked.
"We would have to be talking about one motherfucking charming pig. It would have to be the fucker of all pigs." Jet said as the two hitmen laughed.
"Good for you. Lighten up a little. You been sitting there all quiet." Spike said.
"I just been sitting here thinking." Jet said.
"About what?"
"The miracle we witnessed."
"The miracle you witnessed. I witnessed a freak occurance." Spike said.
"Do you know what a miracle is?" Jet asked.
"An act of God." Spike answered.
"What is an act of God?" Jet asked.
"I guess it is when he makes the impossible possible. And I am sorry Jet, but I do not think what happened this morning qualifies." Spike said.
"Do you not see, Spike, that shit does not matter. You are judging this thing the wrong way. It is not about what. It could be he stopped the bullets, he changed beer into wine, he found my fucking ship keys. You do not judge shit like this based on merit. Wheter or not what we experienced was an according to God miracle is insignificant. What is significant is I felt his touch, he got involved." Jet said.
"But why?" Spike asked.
"That is what is fucking with me! I do not know why. But I cannot go back to sleep." Jet answered.
"So you are serious, you are really going to quit?" Spike said.
"The life, most definitely, Spike." Jet said as Spike takes a bite of food and he takes a sip of coffee.
"Sista! Coffee!" A patron shouted out to the waitress.
"So if you are quitting the life, what will you do?" Spike asked.
"That is what I have been sitting here contemplating. First, I am going to deliver this case to Marsellus Vicious. Then, basically, I am going to go and walk the galaxy." Jet said.
"What do you mean, walk the galaxy?" Spike asked.
"You know, like Captain Harlock from the 'Harlock Saga'." Jet answered.
"How long do you intend to walk the galaxy?"
"Until God puts me where he wants me to be." Jet answered.
"What if he never does?"
"If it takes forever, I will wait forever."
"So you decided to be a bum now?" Spike said.
"I will just be Jet Black, Spike -- no more, no less." Jet said.
"No Jet, you are going to be like those pieces of fucking shit out there who beg for change. They walk around like a bunch of fuckng zombies, they sleep in garbage disposals, they eat what everybody throws away, and dogs piss on them. They got a word for them, they are called fucking bums. And without a job, residence, or legal tender, that is what you are going to be, Jet Black -- a fucking bum!" Spike argued.
"Look my friend, this is just where me and you differ --"
"-- what happened was peculiar -- no doubt about it -- but it was not beer into wine." Spike said.
"All shapes and sizes, Spike." Jet said.
"Stop fucking talking like that!" Spike shouted.
"If you find my answers frightening, Spike, you should cease asking horror questions." Jet said.
"When did you make this decision -- while you were sitting there eating your muffin?" Spike asked.
"Yes. I was just sitting here drinking my coffee, eating my muffin, playing the incident in my head, when I had what bloody eye assholes sometimes refer to as a "moment of clarity." Jet answered.
"I gotta take a shit. To be fucking continued." Spike said as he exits for the restroom.
"Want a sausage, Jet?" Spike asked him.
"No, I do not eat pork." Jet answered.
"Are you Jewish?"
"I am not Jewish, I just do not dig on swine." Jet answered.
"Why not?" Spike said.
"They are filthy fucking animals. I do not eat filthy fucking animals." Jet said.
"Sausages taste good. Pork chops taste fucking good." Spike said.
"A rotting corpse rat may taste like pumpkin pie. I will never know because even if it did, I would not eat the filthy motherfucker. Pigs sleep and root in shit. That is a filthy animal. I do not want to eat nothing that do not have enough sense to disregard it's own feces." Jet explained.
"How about dogs? Dogs eat their own faces."
"I do not eat dog either."
"Yes, but do you consider a dog to be a filthy?" Spike asked.
"I would not go so far to call a dog filthy, but they are definitely dirty. But a dog's got personality. And personality goes a long way." Jet said.
"So by that rationale, if a pig had a better personality, he is cease to be a filthy animal?" Spike asked.
"We would have to be talking about one motherfucking charming pig. It would have to be the fucker of all pigs." Jet said as the two hitmen laughed.
"Good for you. Lighten up a little. You been sitting there all quiet." Spike said.
"I just been sitting here thinking." Jet said.
"About what?"
"The miracle we witnessed."
"The miracle you witnessed. I witnessed a freak occurance." Spike said.
"Do you know what a miracle is?" Jet asked.
"An act of God." Spike answered.
"What is an act of God?" Jet asked.
"I guess it is when he makes the impossible possible. And I am sorry Jet, but I do not think what happened this morning qualifies." Spike said.
"Do you not see, Spike, that shit does not matter. You are judging this thing the wrong way. It is not about what. It could be he stopped the bullets, he changed beer into wine, he found my fucking ship keys. You do not judge shit like this based on merit. Wheter or not what we experienced was an according to God miracle is insignificant. What is significant is I felt his touch, he got involved." Jet said.
"But why?" Spike asked.
"That is what is fucking with me! I do not know why. But I cannot go back to sleep." Jet answered.
"So you are serious, you are really going to quit?" Spike said.
"The life, most definitely, Spike." Jet said as Spike takes a bite of food and he takes a sip of coffee.
"Sista! Coffee!" A patron shouted out to the waitress.
"So if you are quitting the life, what will you do?" Spike asked.
"That is what I have been sitting here contemplating. First, I am going to deliver this case to Marsellus Vicious. Then, basically, I am going to go and walk the galaxy." Jet said.
"What do you mean, walk the galaxy?" Spike asked.
"You know, like Captain Harlock from the 'Harlock Saga'." Jet answered.
"How long do you intend to walk the galaxy?"
"Until God puts me where he wants me to be." Jet answered.
"What if he never does?"
"If it takes forever, I will wait forever."
"So you decided to be a bum now?" Spike said.
"I will just be Jet Black, Spike -- no more, no less." Jet said.
"No Jet, you are going to be like those pieces of fucking shit out there who beg for change. They walk around like a bunch of fuckng zombies, they sleep in garbage disposals, they eat what everybody throws away, and dogs piss on them. They got a word for them, they are called fucking bums. And without a job, residence, or legal tender, that is what you are going to be, Jet Black -- a fucking bum!" Spike argued.
"Look my friend, this is just where me and you differ --"
"-- what happened was peculiar -- no doubt about it -- but it was not beer into wine." Spike said.
"All shapes and sizes, Spike." Jet said.
"Stop fucking talking like that!" Spike shouted.
"If you find my answers frightening, Spike, you should cease asking horror questions." Jet said.
"When did you make this decision -- while you were sitting there eating your muffin?" Spike asked.
"Yes. I was just sitting here drinking my coffee, eating my muffin, playing the incident in my head, when I had what bloody eye assholes sometimes refer to as a "moment of clarity." Jet answered.
"I gotta take a shit. To be fucking continued." Spike said as he exits for the restroom.
