Whenever I think of narratives that escalate as exquisitely as Aliens, I think, I should blog about that – y’know, how character decision A leads to situation B which requires character decision C but whenever I sit down to write it, I keep flashing on this, from Pulp Fiction:


Butch sneaks to the door.

On the counter is a big set of keys with a large Z connected to the ring. Grabbing them, he’s about to go out when he stops and listens to the hillbilly psychopaths having their way with Marsellus.

Butch decides for the life of him, he can’t leave anybody in a situation like that. So he begins rooting around the pawnshop for a weapon to bash those hillbillies’ heads in with.

He picks up a big destructive-looking hammer, then discards it: Not destructive enough. He picks up a chainsaw, thinks about it for a moment, then puts it back. Next, a large Louisville slugger he tries on for size. But then he spots what he’s been looking for:

A Samurai sword.

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