Mia Wallace and Vincent Vega are so stinkin’ cool. I mean, completely bombed out on cocaine, and sometimes barely above perceptible levels of functionality. But the dialogue… the swagger. And there is no point in Pulp Fiction where this is more evident than at Jackrabbit Slim’s. And inside of Jackrabbit Slim’s, there is no betterContinue reading “The Dance Scene [Pulp Fiction]”