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Fandom: TRON
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Grabby programs with no sense of boundaries, "mature" humor
Summary: CLU is desperate to get Sam to join him, and orders one of his underlings to find out more about User culture so that he can better convince his User’s son to see things his way. Said underling returns with information about… Christmas.
"NONONONONONONO!" the basket of bits yelled angrily, going from red and spiky to... well, redder and spikier in their attempts to resist being attached to a string and strung up all over the Grid, and on a rather strange cone-like device in the center of the room. Jarvis sighed heavily as he gripped one by its topmost spiky point, only managing to annoy the binary digit further, if its increasingly recalcitrant "NO!"s were anything to go by. "Why are we doing this again?" he asked no one in particular.
"Because it's some... you know... user tradition," another program whispered to him. "The Programmer is hoping that if we celebrate this 'Christmas' thing it might convince the prisoner to come over to his side! Apparently they love this holiday, with its decorations and these things called 'presents.'" Jarvis snorted.
"Good luck with that," he said derisively. "It would take User intervention for that one to switch sides... I walked past his holding cell earlier and trust me- he's not going to change his mind anytime soon."
"Honestly, why hasn't he just been reprogrammed?" a heavy-set female program asked from her precarious position on a ladder, trying to hang up a garland of what looked unpleasantly like the pixels of derezzed programs. "It would be so much easier than doing all of... whatever this is."
"Don't be stupid, Yotta," another female program snapped at her. "Users aren't like us, you can't just change a few lines in their code and then they'll obey you! First you have to catch them, then you have to tie them up and forcibly kiss and caress them, and force them into overload. Then you do it more gently, and then they'll come over to your side and love you forever!"
"...Perl, have you been on the Internet again?" Jarvis asked after a pause. The other program looked at him with wide eyes, the picture of innocence.
"Whatever makes you say that?"
"Because I don't think that's how it works... how many programs do you know that would react positively to that sort of thing?"
"But you know, they're users," Perl replied as though that explained everything. "They're not like us! Maybe they like having their circuitry forcibly stimulated and being forced to overload." She continued on, "I saw it in those vid-files from the Internet! They like it, although I still can't figure out where their circuits are..."
"Just ignore her," Jarvis muttered to every other program in the vicinity, some of whom were looking rather uncomfortable to be around the other program, who was humming a strange tune under her breath while petting a bit. She looked, for all the world, like a deranged female CLU. "Anyway, we need to get these decorations up in the next ten millicycles, or it's the Games for all of us!" He probably would have continued on in that vein if the bit he had been busily trying to attach to the garland hadn't escaped and whacked him across the face with one final "NO!"
"...ow."
Rinzler growled his displeasure as CLU adjusted the stupid-looking fuzzy red hat he'd perched on top of his helmet for what seemed like the hundredth time. "Oh, don't give me that," the digital dictator responded, smacking Rinzler's arm. "These files say that this 'Santa' User has to wear this hat at all times while he gives out the presents! You want to get Sam on our side, don't you?"
"Rrrrr..." Rinzler rumbled in assent. CLU nodded.
"Good. Now..." he began, as he started flipping through the files he'd obtained. The documents contained information on the User holiday known as "Christmas." From what he'd been able to ascertain, Users loved Christmas. They would agree to anything on the holiday, as long as the one who wanted something from them gave them nice enough presents. And CLU thought that a great present would be bringing the holiday to Sam, since the Grid didn't have anything similar.
Since he'd captured the Son of Flynn, CLU had tried desperately to recruit the User to his side. Unfortunately, nothing he'd tried so far had worked. He'd sent beautiful pleasure programs to his cell, only to have them come running out a few microcycles later offended that the User had rejected him. He'd sent Rinzler in to keep him company, although that hadn't turned out as well as he'd hoped. He'd then tried to send in Perl, one of the more personable female Blackguards, to try to talk him into joining them, but that had only ended with a traumatized User and a very pissed-off Perl. "WHY CAN'T I FIND HIS CIRCUITS!" she had hollered when she left his cell. "Stupid Users! How the hell am I supposed to try out what I saw on the Internet if I can't even find his damn circuits!" CLU had, probably wisely, decided to let that one remain a mystery.
However, once again he had relied on the hyperactive Blackguard to gather information on User traditions. If anyone would be able to find something that would crack the User's angry, bitter shell, it would be Perl, with her uncanny ability to ferret out the most esoteric information from the void of the Internet. And she had provided in spades, bringing back with her files and files of information on the holiday.
"Now, go check on Jarvis and his team to see if they've gotten the decorations done. I have to go check up on Zuse... see if he ever managed to figure out how to make this... 'eggnog. And I need a chimney! NOW!'"
Privately, Rinzler hoped he would be gone for a long time. The last thing he wanted was for CLU to decide he had to do something even more humiliating than wear this stupid fuzzy hat over top of his helmet. Seriously, who does that?
"Heeeey Sammy!" Sam groaned, burying his head in the uncomfortable pillow that had been provided to him in his cell. There was only one person (or program, whatever) who talked to him in such a manner. And he hadn't forgiven her for her horrifying molestation of him that had culminated in her grabbing his dick in a kung-fu grip- she maintained she was trying to find his circuits, but when your genitals have just been squashed most people don't really care what the motivation was.
"What do you want, Perl?" he sighed, hoping that it was just something stupid and the annoying program would bugger off to go derezz more innocent bystanders or sharpen her disc or whatever the fuck she did when she wasn't practically neutering captive Users.
"You have to come with me, silly!" Perl giggled, unlocking the cell door. "The Programmer requested your presence, and normally he would send Rinzler down to get you, but Rinzler's otherwise occupied at the moment, so I volunteered!"
"Of course you did," Sam muttered. But he couldn't help the small spark of hope that flared up in him at the mention of CLU wanting to see him- it was about as likely as him winning the lottery back in the real world, but maybe CLU had a change of heart and wanted to let him go. He tried not to grimace as Perl smacked his ass as he walked past her, and tried to forget the fact that for all her goofiness (and apparent obsession with User circuits), she was still a highly-trained, deadly assassin program, and very likely had her disc trained on him.
Before too long, though, Perl was ushering him through the door to CLU's throne room. "Enjoy!" she chirped, before slamming the door shut behind her. The first thing Sam noticed was the unneccessary force she used to shut the door. A split-second later, the décor registered on his radar.
CLU's throne room was, for all intents and purposes, decorated for... something. If he had to guess, Sam would say Christmas, but it didn't look like any Christmas decorations he'd ever seen before. The glowing green cone that he supposed was some representation of a Christmas tree was covered in angrily yelling, spiky red things that he realized belatedly were bits. Glittering decorations reminiscent of tinsel hung from every concieveable surface, but when he looked closer, Sam realized with a sick feeling that they were the pixels of derezzed programs, gathered together and forced into a macabre decoration. Underneath the glowing green cone were some more glowing packages, and off to the side, a table sat, covered in what Sam supposed were program representations of food. There was a bowl of brigh yellow, radioactive-looking liquid, a gigantic square of some inedible-looking material in the pride of place, where a Christmas turkey would have gone in the real world, something that looked sort of like pie, and a few side dishes of unrecognizable goop.
"Greetings, son!" CLU yelled, stepping out from behind the digital Christmas tree. "Merry Christmas!"
"Christmas isn't for another few days," Sam said flatly. "And I'm not your son."
"You soon will be, no worries, man," CLU said airily, waving his hands in the air dismissively. "Come, sit, have some dinner- we've done our best to replicate traditional User holiday food. We have eggnog-" he indicated the sinisterly-glowing bowl of liquid- "Turkey-" he gestured towards the giant, unappetizing gray square- "cookies-" he pointed at a plate of oddly-humming squares- "fudge-" a bowl of a strange pasty substance- "mashed potatos-" they looked more like potato chips- "and pie!"
"Um, no thanks," Sam said warily. CLU's eyes hardened for a moment, but momentarily, they softened again.
"Oh, but I insist! Zuse and Gem worked tirelessly on it. Well, except for the fudge, I made that myself. I insist that you try some!" And without giving Sam a chance to protest, he shoved him into a chair and cut off a corner of the big gray square (the "turkey.") Knowing that it wouldn't end well for him if he refused, Sam took a small nibble. Surprisingly, it wasn't terrible. It did taste like turkey, at least. CLU bounced around like a housewife on crack, making sure that Sam tried a bit of everything there was to offer, and Sam, fearing retribution if he didn't comply, did his best to at least nibble at everything, with the exception of the pie- despite it actually looking somewhat like pie, it tasted terrible. CLU seemed to agree, considering he spat out his bite.
Once the "dinner" was over, CLU stood up. "Now son, have you been a good boy this whole year?" Sam looked at him as though he was insane, but that didn't stop him. "You know Santa doesn't bring presents to bad children."
"Uh..." was all Sam managed.
"Of course you've been a good boy this year! That's why Santa has a lot of gifts for you!" CLU exclaimed. Then he stood stock-still, as though waiting for something to happen. When the pause became awkward, CLU cleared his throat. "I SAID, Santa has a lot of gifts for you!" There was some strartled shuffling behind the curtain, and then, Rinzler, clad in his ridiculous Santa hat, appeared. Sam clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a snort. The enforcer looked absolutely ridiculous, and even though his face wasn't visible beneath the helmet, one could tell that he ifelt/i ridiculous.
"Rrr rrr rrr..." he purred out. Belatedly, Sam realized he was trying to say "ho ho ho," and again, had to fight to stifle a laugh.
"Why don't you go open your presents under the tree?" CLU suggested.
Not seeing an alternative, Sam agreed, approaching the pile of "gifts" under the "tree." He picked one up and inspected it warily.
"That one's from me!" CLU said happily. "Go on, open it!" Sam did so, and unwrapped a coat identical to the one CLU always wore. "See, now we'll match when we rule the Grid together!"
"I will never join you!" Sam shouted, throwing the coat to the side. CLU just chuckled indulgently.
"Kids, you know how they get at Christmas," he said to Rinzler, who nodded. "Go on, pick another one!" Sam really did not want to, but knew he had no choice, so he picked up a brightly glowing pink parcel. There was a tag on it, but it was in binary, and Sam didn't have the first idea as to what it said. CLU looked a bit confused as well, but then his expression brightened.
"Oh, I bet that one's from Perl! She was going on about how she wanted to get you something, and give it to you from me," he said. Sam shuddered, fearing what would be inside that package. From what he knew of the other program, it wouldn't be anything good.
Not even sure why he was actually going along with this, Sam ripped off the paper, and promptly dropped the package in shock. "WHAT THE FUCK!" he screeched.
"What? What is it?" CLU yelped, surprised by Sam's violent reaction. He hadn't expected Perl to get his soon-to-be co-ruler anything dangerous- certainly she wasn't that dumb, was she? She must have known she would be derezzed had any harm come to Sam on her watch!
"That... that... she got me a dildo!"
"A what?"
"A... well, it's a..." Sam blushed and looked at the floor.
"It's a what?"
"It's a... well, it's... it'sausersextoy," Sam said in a rush.
"I couldn't understand that," CLU replied, voice taking on a darker, more commanding tone. "You will tell me what it is, Sam."
"It's... a user sex toy," Sam muttered, half expecting CLU to fly into a rage at the implications that the gift provided, especially if the gift was supposed to be from CLU himself, just picked out by the other program. However, CLU just looked pensive.
"Users use it to bring pleasure to themselves?" he asked. Sam's blush deepened even more.
"Yes! Well, yeah, they do, but it's not the kind of gift... that you just randomly give someone," he finished lamely. CLU, however, looked contemplative. Then, his face brightened, and he looked directly at Sam. The User had a bad feeling about this...
"Change of plans! We will not rule the Grid together as father and son!"
Thank god... Sam thought.
"We will instead rule it as king and consort! Rinzler! Fetch my light-rope! And go find Perl, I will need her knowledge on how to operate this device!"
"!"
/END
