“Happy birthday!” Flynn exclaims excitedly.
“What?” Clu asks.
“Your birthday!” Flynn replies, and his smile is blinding as usual. “I wrote you a year ago, my time.”
The concept of “a year” slips from Clu’s mind, but he gets the gist of it. “Okay,” he says. “Thanks?”
“Aw, come on, it’s a special occasion! An entire year of existence, isn’t that cool?” He slings an arm around Clu’s shoulders and pulls him to his side. “We gotta celebrate, man!”
There’s really no dissuading Flynn once he wants to do something. Clu just huffs, says, “Fine, but I have things to do afterward,” and lets Flynn drag him out of the office.
There is, truthfully, not much to do in terms of “celebrating” on the Grid. There are bars. Clubs. The Arena. A theater in Arjia, but Flynn wisely does not suggest it. Flynn instead says they should get “hammered,” as he puts it, and go race lightcycles and maybe pull a prank on Tron or something.
“I mean, if that’s what you wanna do,” he adds, like an afterthought.
Clu considers it. “What’s a prank?”
“A practical joke, man!” Flynn says with a laugh. “We can, like, turn his circuits pink or make an annoying song loop in his HQ or fuck with his lightcycle—you know, just mess with him!”
Clu grins. He doesn’t see why existing for an entire “year” is an accomplishment worthy of a celebration, but when else would be get a chance to be mean to Tron with his creator’s blessing?
“All right,” he says. “Let’s celebrate.”