THE DIALOGUE
The funeral service was over. Jules had delivered Vincent's eulogy. Now they were back at Marcellus Wallace's place along with Mia, still in silent mourning, Lance and his wife, a few select others.
"So you're not going after Butch?" Marcus asked.
Jules shook his head. "Nah. I tried to warn Vincent about what might happen to him on account of our earlier Bonnie situation. He made his choice."
Marcus nodded. "Good. Then I won't have to tell you that Butch is hands off so long as he keeps his ass out of L.A. so you're serious about this wandering shit?"
Jules nodded. "I am. I should be dead but I'm not, Vincent is dead but he shouldn't be. I think that was a clear sign."
"More divine intervention?"
Jules could tell that Marcus was still skeptical. "Shit, man, we all get messages sometimes. Mine might have been more extreme than most, but I got it. So yes, I am simply going to be a man, on my own journey."
"Well, I guess I had a revelation too, when Butch saved me. The man could have left me with those hillbillies but didn't. I was going to have his ass killed for not throwing the fight, but that don't matter now. Maybe you'll run into him again someday, y'all can fix things over Vincent."
"Maybe I will, at that," Jules said thoughtfully. Turning to the others, he said, "I'd like to propose a toast. To Vincent Vega, may the brother rest in peace."
The others all raised their glasses.
"To Vincent," they all said.
THE END