It's that time of day, spamming time.
You know...when I was a kid man, I didn't realize how lucky I was. I mean, my parents stuck together through thick and thin. My dad was a mechanic and my mom was a school teacher and we had a dog and...wow the American dream huh
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Flynn.
JA307020 owes you an explanation.
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No explanation required my man.
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It's kind of tempting.]
Explanation owed.
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JA3
I was Tron.
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....How do you know about...Tron?
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Tron JA307020 was a security program written by User Alan-1 to monitor activity in the ENCOM system. If needed it could even shut down the Master Control Program itself.
[Last three images: Tron's emblem, four lit squares in a T. Blue on white, white on black, red on black.]
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Did you come from...
How did...
Where are you.
[Rinzler might recognize that tone of voice. CLU has used it.]
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Really complicated.]
Zero.
[...the explanation for that is also complicated.]
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And it seems like a moment later that he's there in his favorite jean jacket wearing a red shirt that says, "Fight the power" (behold the irony).
In his hand is his identity disc. It's glowing. It's a glowing white and blue frisbee, old school model.
He is staring.]
Tron, who put you in here? What the hell did you do? Why are you calling yourself Rinzler?
Is this some kind of gag?
[Now he looks suspicious] Look man, you seem to know a lot of computer science. If you've been in my files just tell me. I won't get mad.
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Though the total lack of emotional feedback from the helmet he wears kind of ruins the metaphor.
He does recoil visibly from the barrage of questions from the Crea--from his fr--
User fucking damn it
--from Flynn; it's too much all at once, and he stalks away from to one corner of the cell with his back to the wall to glare out and establish some sense of his own territory.]
Tron is dead.
[There. Let's get that out of the way.]
CLU. Derezzed him. Murdered.
Made me.
[He taps the T-shaped circuit on his chest.]
Rectified. What was. Left.
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Buddy. My CLU program died. He was derezzed. Well, hacked I think there's no-
[he laughs nervously]
There's no way any of this could have happened man. [Another nervous laugh] CLU was my hacking program. He's gone. I can only assume the MCP whacked him.
You're full of it.
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He starts to pace like a caged animal, raising a hand to key off his helmet as he does--and he only looks at Kevin for a split second before his attention is on the cell walls around him again.]
You want. Proof.
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Buddy, am I supposed to believe that a guy I've never met before knows about the Grid and Tron and everything that I did unless...
You work for Dillinger?
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No.
[Dillinger had thought the MCP was all he needed.]
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...This isn't fucking funny.
[He cursed. Somewhere Disney is rolling in his grave.]
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But not quite.]
Not. A joke.
[With the helmet off it's possible to see just how much he struggles to speak, to form comprehensible words--and he does it anyway.]
Your future. My past.
[He steps closer to the front of the cell as Kevin steps away, intent on him--the Creator, Tron's friend].
Tron is dead.
[Rinzler is what's left.]
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Tron...
[He licks his lips. Then he laughs again] Good joke.
[He laughs weakly and shakes his head] Tron...Tron's-wait, are you a warden? Tron would be a warden. He's a warden. He'd be working with me.
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