Original subtitles

Gotham Park Racetrack. . .

...the day before the Bruce Wayne Foundation Memorial Handicap...

...where two fancy fillies are meeting the press:

A high-spirited horse and her proud-spirited mistress.

Can you say "cheese," baby? - it's not "baby."

It's Lola Lasagne.

- Senora Lola Lasagne. -Can you get that nag to crack a smile?

If you're referring to my prize-winning filly with that wonderful white stripe on her forehead...

...she'd much rather be called Parasol.

A most appropriate name, I believe.

Haven't you got the corner on the world's supply of shower sticks?

Shower sticks? You must mean my famous collection of parasols.

Hold this.

Priceless, you know.

Shape up, Parasol.

Looks and your legs are all we've got left.

NARRATOR". But what's this strange bird doing in the royal surroundings...

...of a queen of the turf and the sport of kings?

You waddling bird.

Ah...

What is this?

You can't just barge in here...

...cut open a locked case, and walk off with a priceless folio...

...of famous parasols. -Why not?

Among other things, it's a felony.

Faugh, I'm a tax-paying citizen and this is a public library.

That shouldn't have been locked in the first place.

I'm gonna call the police.

- Your beloved father, I presume? -Exactly.

Stay where you are. I'm putting you under citizen's arrest.

A tax-paying citizen's arrest, I hope.

Dad, Barbara.

The Penguin just waddled in here, cut open a locked case...

...and tried to waddle off with--

Just a minute.

He's gone. But he left an umbrella in the umbrella stand and it's...

Ticking? Ticking?

The umbrella handle is ticking.

Holy time bomb. Lucky we happened to be here.

Boy Wonder, you took the words out of me mouth.

Tell her not to remove the umbrella.

Penguin will want to escape alive, which should give us time to get there. Come, Robin.

Batman and Robin are on their way now, Barbara. You better leave there quickly.

Leave the library?

Dad, I'm not going to let a ticking umbrella handle frighten me off my job.

If you say so, but don't touch that umbrella.

Brazen bird.

I'll wager there's a connection between this...

...and that parasol he stole from Lola Lasagne today at the racetrack.

You wager, Chief O'Hara?

A public servant and upstanding chief of police betting?

Uh, can I call it a hunch, commissioner?

Well, with the Dynamic Duo on our side, I think "hunch" is most appropriate.

Haven't you some Anti-Percussion Asbestos Bat-flax in your utility belt?

No time for that now, Robin.

Let's get this offending article out into the corridor...

...and under the Bat-bomb Machine.

No need for concern, Miss Gordon. Just a practical joke.

Well, some practical joke.

The umbrella handle was loaded with explosives.

And you say Penguin left it in the umbrella stand...

...because you prevented his stealing a priceless folio from a locked case?

Yes, of famous parasols.

Ah. Hardly a reason for an attempt on your life, Miss Gordon.

You may remember he once tried to force me to marry him.

- Ah... - Gosh, yes.

But thanks to Batgirl, that wedding never took place.

Yes, thanks to Batgirl. Hm.

And I can understand a man like Penguin harboring jealousy and revenge...

...but murder and locked cases...

...priceless parasols, famous folios...

- Wanna give the Batcomputer a crack at it? - Good idea, Robin.

NARRATOR". While in Penguin's Bookshop...

...or to be more accurate, Penguin's bookmaking shop...

Penguin's Bookshop.

Yeah, Apricot Soup in the sixth at Pimlico.

Ten grand on the nose.

You got it, Frankie.

- Ten grand for Frankie. -Right, Penguin.

Ha-ha.

I received a note. I might find my priceless stolen parasol here.

It's not as priceless as all that.

A little research has proved to me that it is a fake.

Just as you are a fake, Lulu Schultz.

And I didn't need any research to prove that. Ha-ha!

- Lulu Schultz? -Mm.

I am Senora Lola Lasagne.

Horse feathers, Lulu.

I knew you back when.

I knew you when you'd steal the braces from other kids' teeth.

- While you stole their teeth. -Ha!

But you're still very clever, Pengy.

I thought I had the whole world fooled.

Now, now, what about the other Parasol, the four-legged one?

Is that also a fake?

Do you mean my prize-winning filly with the white stripe...

...in the middle of her forehead? -Eh.

That's the only thing I have to show for my three weeks of marriage to Luigi Lasagne.

What? The billionaire South American playboy?

Not exactly a playboy, Pengy.

- Luigi's almost 80. -Oh...

Instead of dying, as any adoring young wife might reasonably expect...

...he divorced me. -Ah.

Can you imagine? He thought I was after his money.

Ooh, what slander. Faugh.

And that stingy old judge.

- All he gave me was one horse. -Ew.

Yes. Why, I even had to sell my real priceless collection of parasols...

...for eating money. -Mm-mm.

But if my horse, Parasol, should win the Bruce Wayne Handicap tomorrow...

...think of the purse.

What purse? It's an empty purse.

All the proceeds in that race go to the Bruce Wayne Memorial Foundation.

I think we've given the Batcomputer sufficient time...

...and a thorough enough dusting, Alfred.

It must have heard you.

"Umbrella, parasol.

A sunshade coming under the general category of covering, such as veiling, curtaining...

...blanketing--" -Blanketing.

Blanketing. That may be the clue we've been looking for.

Wet blanket. Blanket of snow.

Or perhaps something in the bedding department.

An eiderdown or counterpane.

No, I doubt it very much, Alfred. Blanket, blanket...

Wet blanket.

Blanket of snow.

Plaid blanket. Horse--

Horse blanket.

Of course, Parasol is the name of a horse entered in the Bruce Wayne Handicap...

...by Senora Lola Lasagne.

Look, the Bat-correction Signal.

"Lulu Schultz."

Lola Lasagne must be a pseudonym.

- That's a sticky one. -Sticky.

Paste, mucilage, glue--

Gluten.

Another card.

"Glu Gluten's Glue Factory."

We start outwith parasols and come up with a glue factory.

- Holy non sequiturs. -I don't think so, Robin.

We all know that we're dealing with a devious bird of prey in the Penguin.

And we certainly know, sir, that the Batcomputer is above any practical joke.

So?

So now that night has fallen...

...I propose that we pay an unexpected visit to Glu Gluten's Glue Factory.

Remain alert, Alfred.

Who knows what trouble we may run into? Robin.

You can depend on me, sir.

- Hello? - Miss Gordon?

Oh, hello.

I've just heard that Batman and Robin have taken off for Glu Gluten's Glue Factory...

...on an errand of deep mystery.

- I thought you might be interested. - Well, yes, I am.

But how did you hear of it'?

Erm, actually, I overheard it.

The Dynamic Duo were to be dinner guests at stately Wayne Manor tonight.

Now, their tricky mission...

-...could concern you, Miss Gordon. - Me?

Yes. It seems that, uh, Penguin...

...his exploding umbrella and a rare book on parasols are involved.

Thank you. I appreciate the tip, Alfred.

And, as always, your secrecy.

Charlie, I thought I was going to spend a quiet evening with you.

Instead, I'm off to Glu Gluten's Glue Factory.

NARRATOR". Once more, from Barbara Gordon, librarian and police commissioner's daughter...

...to that dominoed daredoll Batgirl in a matter of seconds.

Well, so I'll give up the purse. I can still keep the cash.

- Parasol would win as the favorite. -Yes...

...but favorites just pay peanuts. You know that, Lulu.

Oh, wait a minute.

What if Parasol wasn't the favorite?

Wasn't?

Yes, what if we had another horse that looked like Parasol...

...and we put him in the same race?

And then took my horse and a dab of paint and a new name...

We're working on the same wicked wavelength, huh, Lulu?

Here, hold that a minute.

- What's that? -It is a radio.

I did a little research at the library and left a souvenir.

I wanna see if it's exploded yet. Ha!

- Exploded? -Yeah.

You're still up to your naughty little tricks, aren't you?

That's right. Come on, come on.

And thus the Dynamic Duo really earned their name this afternoon...

...when they successfully detonated a bomb ingeniously planted in an umbrella handle...

...at the Gotham Library. And now for the--

The dynamic dunderheads.

Faugh. Double faugh. Triple faugh.

Why are you so anxious to bomb the library?

No, not the library, somebody in the library.

Somebody who had the miserable taste to turn down an offer of marriage from me.

You, Pengy, scorned by a woman?

-It's incredible, isn't it? -Yes.

Well, let's get back to the horse-switching.

Before those caped crumbums get on my tailpiece again.

Hey, you feathered finks, let's go.

NARRATOR". But even as the Dynamic Duo head for their dubious destination...

...and Batgirl zooms through the night for her own surprise appearance...

...in Glu Gluten's Glue Factory, Penguin and Lola are completing a deal.

Or trying to.

You're out of print, buddy. Dead as a dodo.

- The parade has passed you by. -Faugh.

Look, glue isn't made out of horses' hoofs anymore, you know.

- Then what's that horse doing here? -Horse?

Yes, this four-legged thing with a long nose.

Oh, this horse. Well, you see, I always keep a spare one here just in case of an emergency.

Well, We'd like to buy it.

If you're not gonna use it for glue, how about making a deal?

- What's the deal? -The usual.

Nothing down and a little a week.

Nothing down? What kind of a deal is that?

Why, you're out of print, buddy.

Dead as a dodo. The parade has passed you by.

Don't you know anything about the economic structure of this country?

It's always nothing down and a little a week. That is the cornerstone...

...of our financial security.

- How little a week? -Which week?

They're making a deal in a glue factory for a horse.

Mm. What can we do?

What's illegal about buying a horse in a glue factory?

Something, all right, or Penguin wouldn't be in on it.

But planting a time bomb in a public library is a felony.

Come on. Let's nail him.

Drat. Double drat. Triple drat.

- Expletives will get you nowhere. -Except back in the cooler.

The cooler? Because I was conducting a little private business?

No, because you've been misconducting some public business.

Like bombing libraries.

Faugh, that was a whimsical prank.

What other whimsical pranks are you and your charming conspiratress up to?

You do have a way with words, Batman.

They wanna buy a horse.

Senora Lola Lasagne, the owner of that fine filly, Parasol?

- Well, you see, I-- -Cool it, Lulu.

Now, grab that nag and paint a stripe on his forehead...

...and make the switch at the track. I'll meet you back at the bookshop.

Hey, I ain't got a deal.

A deal?

You've got a full house.

Armband, Visor, you other finks, attack!

Batman!

Batman!

Batman!

Batman!

Come along, little Pengy.

Faugh, struck out by Batgirl.

- Good show. -Gosh, Batman, they sure hit the tape.

They certainly did, old chum.

We usually don't need help with our fights, Batgirl.

But this time your presence is certainly appreciated.

Oh, thank you. I couldn't ask for a greater compliment.

Oh, but the Penguin got away.

I'm sorry.

We'll get him back.

I certainly hope so.

I pray for the day when Gotham City's safe from such mocking mountebanks.

Cleaning up crime is the dream of every good citizen, Batgirl.

But one thought intrigues me.

How did you know Robin and I might be in trouble with Penguin in this glue factory?

Through the one thing you couldn't possibly have in your utility belt, Batman.

A woman's intuition.

What are we gonna do about these goons?

I'd say their fate is sealed, Robin.

At least for the present.

Perhaps we should offer Batgirl a ride back to the ci--

She's gone.

Like a shadow.

Like smoke.

Like a shooting star.

Who knows where she goes? Who knows where she comes from?

Who knows who she is?

- Let's try to catch her. -No, Robin.

We must allow her her anonymity and freedom of action as we demand ours.

Whatever is fair in love and war is also fair in crime-fighting.

And there's something...

Something very sinister about Penguin and Lulu Schultz...

...trying to find another horse the same color as Parasol.

To the Batcave.

Nothing down, nothing a week.

A nothing factory.

What a deal.

Courage, Robin.

We'll get that slippery bird.

Holy mucilage.

Yes, Robin, things are getting even stickier.

You pulled it off, Lulu.

You switched bangtails at the track, and this hay burner is the real palooka.

The real Parasol, Pengy.

And I wish you wouldn't call her a bangtail, a hay burner or a palooka.

And the refugee from the glue factory is in Parasol's stall, right?

With a beautiful white stripe right down the middle of her forehead.

I combined my pancake makeup, my eye shadow, my eyebrow pencil...

...my lipstick, my nail polish and some elbow grease.

Let's hope the elbow grease is the right color. Ha-ha!

- Nobody got wise? -Of course not.

After all, I am Senora Lola Lasagne.

Besides, nobody saw me.

That's right. Yes, yes, you're the great horse. We're gonna give you a nice new paint job...

...and give you a nice name. What about Bumbershoot, huh?

You'll be the most famous and richest long shot in history.

- Ha! -Just one thing worries me, Pengy.

How is our long shot gonna pay a big price...

...if everybody bets on the other horse they think is Parasol?

Because all our money will be on Bumbershoot.

What money?

Well, let's say Bumbershoot pays 100-to-1

...that means we'll make $200 for a $2 ticket.

- But that takes $2. -Yes, Lulu.

And we should have $10,000 down on Bumbershoot.

- That's a nice round figure. -But where's it all coming from?

Don't you have any old family heirlooms you can pawn?

I told you, Pengy, my old family heirloom divorced me.

That's right. And you've sold all your priceless parasols, hm?

They weren't as priceless as I thought.

Priceless parasols.

What about a priceless folio of famous parasols?

Yeah, what about it?

There's one at the library.

If it's that priceless, I can get a good price for it on the black market.

Ha-ha. And after all, you are in the book business.

Well, sort of.

Pengy...

...you're a genius. -Yes.

Go get it, right now.

No, no. The library isn't open yet.

Since when has that ever stopped you?

That's right, it never has and it never will. I'll go there right now.

You go and paint up Bumbershoot...

...and I'll go and try to snatch a folio of famous, priceless parasols.

NARRATOR". Is Lola right?

Can't Penguin be stopped?

Is he really stealing a priceless folio to finance his crooked coup...

...with the Dynamic Duo pasted to the Batmobile outside the glue factory?

And Barbara Gordon, minus Batgirl's trappings...

...asleep in her apartment?

Or is she?

Dad, Barbara. I'm sorry to be calling you so early in the morning...

...but the Emergency Library Prowler Signal just rang.

I'm sorry we worried you, Alfred.

But even the Batmobile's Library Paste Bat-dissolving Switch got stuck.

Look, Batman, the red phone.

NARRATOR". But are they all too late?

Will Penguin and Lola succeed in pulling off the foulest race-fixing scheme of all time?

For more, tune in the next episode.