Tron (1982) - Quotes

Flynn: Hey! Hold it right there!

Bit: Yes.

Flynn: What do you mean, "yes"?

Bit: Yes.

Flynn: Is that all you can say?

Bit: No.

Flynn: Know anything else?

Bit: Yes.

Flynn: Positive and negative, huh? You're a Bit, aren't you?

Bit: Yes.

Flynn: Well, where's your program? Isn't he going to miss you?

Bit: No.

Flynn: I'm your program?

Bit: Yes.

Flynn: Another mouth to feed...

Bit: Yesyesyesyesyes!

Flynn: [Tron and Ram look confusedly at Flynn, then at each other] Oh, man! On the other side of the screen, it all looks so easy. They must have gone right past us.

Tron: [to Ram; pauses] We made it. This far.

Flynn: I shouldn't have written all those tank programs...

Sark: Finish the game!

Flynn: NO!

Sark: Kill him!

Flynn: [drops the ball] No!

Sark: You'll regret this.

Master Control Program: [faintly, in Sark's memory] I want him in the games until he dies playing.

Ram: The new guy was asking about you.

Tron: It's too bad he's in a match now. I'll probably never meet him.

Ram: You might. There's something different about him.

Flynn: Who's that guy?

Program: That's Tron. He fights for the Users.

Sark: [displays a disc to the crowd] Greetings. The Master Control Program has chosen you to serve your system on the Game Grid. Those of you who continue to profess a belief in the Users will receive the standard substandard training, which will result in your eventual elimination. Those of you who renounce this superstitious and hysterical belief will be eligible to join the Warrior Elite of the MCP. You will each receive an identity disc. Everything you do or learn will be imprinted on this disc. If you lose your disc or fail to follow commands, you will be subject to immediate de-resolution. That will be all.

Master Control Program: I've got a little challenge for you, Sark - a new recruit. He's a tough case, but I want him treated in the usual manner. Train him for the games, let him hope for a while, then blow him away.

Sark: You got it. I've been hoping you'd send me somebody with a little bit of guts. What kind of Program is he?

Master Control Program: He's not any kind of Program, Sark. He's a User.

Sark: [surprised] A User?

Master Control Program: [brief pause] That's right. He pushed me in the real world. Someone pushes me, I push back, so I brought him down here. What's the matter, Sark? You look nervous.

Sark: Well, I... it's just... a User, I mean... Users wrote us. A User even wrote you!

Master Control Program: No one User wrote me. I'm worth millions of their man-years.

Sark: But what if I can't—

Master Control Program: You'd rather take your chances with me? Want me to slow down your power cycles for you?

Sark: Wait! I need that!

Master Control Program: Then pull yourself together! Get this clown trained! I want him in the games until he dies playing. Acknowledge.

Sark: Acknowledged, Master Control...

Master Control Program: [restores Sark] End of Line.

Master Control Program: You shouldn't have come back, Flynn.

Flynn: Hey, hey, hey, it's the big Master Control Program everybody's been talking about.

Master Control Program: [calmly; Flynn types in an access request; sounding distressed] Sit right there; make yourself comfortable. Remember the time you used to spend playing chess together? That isn't going to do you any good, Flynn. I'm afraid you... Stop! Please! You realize I can't allow this!

Flynn: Now, how are you gonna run the universe if you can't even answer a few unsolvable problems? Huh? Come on, big fella, let's see what you got.

Master Control Program: I'd like to go against you and see what you're made of.

Flynn: You know, you don't look a thing like your pictures.

Master Control Program: [threateningly] I'm warning you. You're entering a big error, Flynn. I'm going to have to put you on the Game Grid.

Flynn: [a klaxon blares, and the laser fires at Flynn, slowly decomposing him and digitizing him into the computer, and he appears in a holding area. He looks around, bewildered.] Games? You want games? I'll give you games– ...Oh man, this isn't happening, it only thinks it's happening.

Guard: [after Flynn stands there looking confused; jabs Flynn with an energy staff] Vacate entry port, program! I said, move!

Flynn: [gets jabbed again] Hey! Look, if this is about those parking tickets, I can explain everything, okay?

Dillinger: ENCOM isn't the business you started in your garage anymore. We're billing accounts in thirty different countries; new defense systems; we have one of the most sophisticated pieces of equipment in existence.

Dr. Gibbs: [starts for the elevator] Oh, I know all that. Sometimes I wish I were back in my garage...

Dillinger: That can be arranged, Walter.

Dr. Gibbs: [stops and turns back to Dillinger, visibly angry] That was uncalled for! You know, you can remove men like Alan and me from the system, but we helped create it! And our spirit remains in every program we design for this computer!

Dillinger: Walter, it's getting late. I've got better things to do than to have religious discussions with you. Don't worry about ENCOM anymore; it's out of your hands now.

Alan: This guy's a little like Santa Claus.

Flynn: I make these myself. Want one?

Dillinger: ...The MCP is the most efficient way of handling what we do here! I can't just sit around all day, worrying about every little user request that comes in!

Dr. Gibbs: User requests are what computers are for!

Dillinger: Doing our business is what computers are for!

Alan: I still don't understand why you want to break into the system.

Flynn: [frustrated] Because, man, somewhere in one of these memories is the evidence! If I could just get in there, I could reconstruct it!

Alan: You invented Space Paranoids?

Flynn: Paranoids, Matrix Blaster, Vice Squad, a whole slew of them. I was this close to starting my own little enterprise, man. But enter another software engineer. Not so young, not so bright, but very, very sneaky: Ed Dillinger. So one night, our boy Flynn, he goes to his terminal, tries to read up his file. I get nothing on there, it's a big blank. Okay, now we take you three months later. Dillinger presents Encom with five video games, that he's invented. The slime didn't even change the names, man, and he gets a big fat promotion! And thus begins his meteoric rise to, what is he now? Executive V.P.?

Lora: Senior exec.

Flynn: [sighs] Senior exec? Meanwhile, the kids are putting eight million quarters a week into Paranoids machines. I don't see a dime except what I squeeze out of here.

Alan: Flynn, are you embezzling?

Flynn: Embezzling" is such an ugly word, Mr. Bradley.

Lora: Have you been sneaking into the ENCOM system?

Flynn: [to Lora; to Alan] You were never much for small talk, were you? Does she still leave her clothes all over the floor?

Lora: Flynn!

Alan: No!

Lora: Alan!

Alan: I mean, not that often.

Lora: [to Alan] Now you can see why all his friends are fourteen years old!

Flynn: Touche! Touche.

Alan: [about Flynn] The best programmer ENCOM ever had, and he ends up playing Space Cowboy in some back room.

Lora: You know, Flynn has been thinking about breaking into the system ever since Dillinger canned him. And he had Group 7 access.

Alan: [sour] Flynn had access to you, too.

Dr. Gibbs: Ha, ha. You've got to expect some static. After all, computers are just machines, they can't think.

Alan: Some programs will be thinking soon.

Dr. Gibbs: Won't that be grand? All the computers and the programs will start thinking and the people will stop.

Alan: [about the digitizing laser] Great. Can it send me to Hawaii?

Lora: Yep, but you gotta purchase your program 30 days in advance.

Lora: Well, here goes nothing.

Dr. Gibbs: Yes. Interesting! Interesting! Did you hear what you just said? "Here goes nothing.

Lora: Well, what I meant was...

Dr. Gibbs: Actually, what we plan to do is to turn something into nothing, and then back again. They might just as well have said "Here goes something; here comes nothing!

Lora: Right.

Dillinger: It's my fault. I programmed you to want too much.

Master Control Program: I was planning to hit the Pentagon next week.

Dillinger: [alarmed] The Pentagon?

Master Control Program: It shouldn't be any harder than any other big company. But now this is what I get for using humans.

Dillinger: Now, wait a minute, I wrote you!

Master Control Program: I've gotten 2,415 times smarter since then.

Dillinger: What do you want with the Pentagon?

Master Control Program: The same thing I want with the Kremlin. I'm bored with corporations. With the information I can access, I can run things 900 to 1200 times better than any human.

Dillinger: If you think you're superior to us...

Master Control Program: You wouldn't want me to dig up Flynn's file and read it up on a VDT at The Times, would you?

Dillinger: You wouldn't dare!

Master Control Program: Mr. Dillinger, I am so very disappointed in you!

Dillinger: I'm sorry.

Master Control Program: I can't afford to have an independent programmer monitoring me. Do you realize how many outside systems I've gotten into? How many programs I've appropriated?

Crom: It's murder out there. You can't even travel around your own microcircuits without permission from Master Control Program. I mean, sending me down here to play games! Who does he calculate that he is?

Master Control Program: You're getting brutal, Sark. Brutal and needlessly sadistic.

Sark: Thank you, Master Control.

Master Control Program: We've captured some military programs. I could arrange more lethal matches. Interested?

Sark: Sure. I'd love to go up against one of those guys. Make a nice break from those accounting cream puffs you keep sending me. What branch of the service?

Master Control Program: The Strategic Air Command.

Sark: Nice.

Crom: Look. This... is all a mistake. I'm just a compound interest program. I work at a savings and loan! I can't play in these video games!

Guard: Sure you can, pal. You look like a natural athlete if I ever saw one.

Crom: Who, me? Are you kidding? No, I run to check on T-bill rates, I get out of breath. Hey, look, you guys are gonna make my User, Mr. Henderson, very angry. He's a full-branch manager.

Guard: [pushes Crom into the holding cell] Great. Another religious nut.

Ram: I'd say "Welcome Friend". But not here. Not like this.

Crom: I don't even know what I'm doing here.

Ram: Do you believe in the Users?

Crom: Sure I do. If I don't have a User, then who wrote me?

Ram: That's what you're doing down here.

Dillinger: I think we should shut down all access until we find that Flynn, just to be safe.

Master Control Program: There's a 68.71 percent chance you're right.

Dillinger: Cute.

Master Control Program: End of Line.

Master Control Program: Hello, Mr. Dillinger. Thank you for coming back early.

Dillinger: [[w:Consumer Electronics Show|Consumer Electronics Show] No problem, Master C. If you've seen one ], you've seen them all. What's up?

Master Control Program: It's your friend, the boy detective. He's nosing around again.

Dillinger: Flynn?

Master Control Program: Yes. It felt like Flynn.

Dillinger: He's still looking for that old file. Can't you just appropriate it?

Master Control Program: I have. I put in my memory which he hasn't located.

Dillinger: But he might find it.

Master Control Program: I'm afraid so. I've spotted him this time and kept him out, but he's getting trickier all the time.

Memory Guard: Got a pirate Program here. Says his name is Clu.

Master Control Program: What did he pull?

Memory Guard: He came into the system with a stolen password. And we caught him trying to raid our High Clearance Memory.

Clu: No! I must've gotten in there by mistake! I was...

Master Control Program: Who programmed you?

Clu: [Clu is thrown into the air, lands on a derezzing device and screams in pain] I was simply...!

Master Control Program: You're in trouble, Program. Make it easy on yourself. Who's your User?

Clu: [in pain] Forget it, mister high-and-mighty Master Control! You aren't making me talk.

Master Control Program: [derezzes a screaming Clu] Suit yourself. Get me Dillinger!

Flynn: [cut to digital maze; A tank appears] Okay, Clu, tonight we check everything in the right-hand column. Come on, come on. Where are you? There you are. Clu?

Clu: Yes, sir?

Flynn: Clu, we don't have much time left to find that file. This is top priority.

Clu: Yes, sir. I know, sir.

Flynn: This isn't just correcting my bank statement or phone bill problem again. This is a must.

Clu: I understand, sir.

Flynn: Now, I wrote you.

Clu: Yes, sir.

Flynn: I taught you everything I know about the system.

Clu: Thank you, sir, but I'm not sure...

Flynn: No buts, Clu. That's for Users. Now, you're the best Program that's ever been written. You're dogged and relentless, remember?

Clu: Let me at em!

Flynn: That's the spirit. Now keep that tank rolling, and I'll try and cover you from this end. Go.