Vincent: [about a foot massage] It's layin' your hands in a familiar way on Marsellus' new wife. I mean, is it as bad as eatin' her pussy out? No, but it's the same fuckin' ballpark.
Jules: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop right there. Eating a bitch out and giving a bitch a foot massage ain't even the same fucking thing.
Vincent: It's not. It's the same ballpark.
Jules: Ain't no fucking ballpark neither. Now, look, maybe your method of massage differs from mine, but, you know, touching his wife's feet and sticking your tongue in the holiest of holies ain't the same fucking ballpark. It ain't the same league. It ain't even the same fucking sport. Look, foot massages don't mean shit.
Vincent: Have you ever given a foot massage?
Jules: Don't be telling me about foot massages, I'm the foot fuckin' master.
Vincent: Given a lot of them?
Jules: Shit, yeah. I got my technique down and everything, I don't be tickling or nothing.
Vincent: Would you give a guy a foot massage?
Jules: [pause] Fuck you.