Vincent: You know what the funniest thing about Europe is?
Vincent: It's the little differences. A lotta the same shit we got here, they got there, but they're a little different.
Vincent: Well, in Italy, you call up a hooker, she comes with a free beer. And not in a paper cup either. She gives you a glass of beer, like in a bar. Only, you gotta make sure it really is beer - they got some fuckin' weird ideas about sex over there. Also, you know what they call a packet of Twisties in Italy?
Jules: What'd they call it?
Vincent: A packet of Fonzies.
Jules: Fonzies! No shit, they name them after that old white dude with paedophilic tendancies and a compulsive-ass desire to jump over junk on his bike? The guy thought the mens' room was his office! Plain to see they didn't know a goddam thing about hygiene in the fifties.
Vincent: Yeah, well see, the Italians have no word for 'twist'. It's just not in their cultural psyche. Your Italian cannot understand the concept of 'twist'. But they know there is nothing cooler than Fonzie. Don't scruple about personal fuckin' sanitation or how young a girl is, neither. It's all about cool in Italy. Can't fuck with that reasoning.
Jules: Well that did it, man - I'm fuckin' goin', that's all there is to it.