In the seminal work of Quentin Tarantino that featured explosive violence, magnificent characters, and unforgettable dialogue amid three different yet interconnected stories told brilliantly out of sequence, one scene stood out above all others.
Pulp Fiction’s ultimate non sequitur: the story of the watch. Fittingly, it’s Christopher Walken who steps in as Captain Koons to tell us this incredible story, playing a military veteran introduced to a young Butch (Bruce Willis) as a man who knew Butch’s daddy as a POW during the Vietnam War.
Walken, as Koons, who is ten times more charming than that Arnold on Green Acres, presents the young boy with his birthright, a family heirloom. No, it was not a Royale with Cheese. It was not a Kahuna Burger. It was not a foot massage from one man to another. It was not a Five Dollar Shake. A what?! Say “what” again, person that has had carnal knowledge of your mother! I dare you!
Sorry, did I break your concentration? No, it was his father’s watch. Koons artfully provides the boy with the watch’s complete history, from its purchase in Knoxville, Tennessee by the boy’s great grandfather during World War I, to a coffee can, to Wake Island in World War II with his grandfather, to Vietnam with his father, to the final place of safekeeping for the uncomfortable hunk of metal, in what can politely be called the final run of the colon or small intestine of the Captain himself. “And now, little man, I give the watch to you.” Spoken like a true prodigy.
Now that you know my favorite scene from Pulp Fiction, what now between me and you? I’ll tell you “what now” between me and you. There is no me and you. Not no more.