All language subtitles for quaott cdesa

NARRATOR".
When we last saw the Boy Wonder...

he was about to be printed
into a horrible human comic book...

and Bruce Wayne was being
forced to push the switch...

that would stamp Robin's doom.

What way out?

Frankly, this observer fears there's none.

The answer in just one moment.

NARRATOR". But on the street below
the doomful scene, trusty Alfred...

per a Batman plan.

Master Robin, Mr. Wayne, sir,
do you read me?

Do you read me, sir?

Oh, dear.

Bless my vertigo.

Quick, my humorous robots,
exert yourselves.

Conclude this comical charade.

Sorry, Boy Wonder...

I'm doing my very best against this...

infernal robot super-strength.

Mr. Wayne, I know you're doing your best.

- What the devil?
- It's Batman.

Unhand Mr. Wayne.
Here comes the Batgas.

Robots, now hear this:
We who laugh and run away...

live to laugh another day.

- Quickly, Alfred, the Batfan.
- Very good, sir.

- Well done, Alfred, and bravely too.
- Ha, ha.

You were great, Alfred.
You even sounded like Batman.

Small wonder, Master Robin.

That was my own voice, Robin.
Remember those lessons in ventriloquism?

Gosh, yes. I should have thought of that.

No, don't blame yourself, Robin.

It's sometimes difficult to think clearly
when you're strapped to a printing press.

Joker and his bad luck gang escaped
down that secret elevator.

Who cares? Now we've got proof that Joker
was back of that counterfeit operation.

"Was" is right, Robin.

I'm afraid all we've succeeded
in doing here is frightening him...

into another criminal endeavor.
- Any notion what that might be, sir?

No, but I have an ugly hunch, Alfred.

As part of my charade, I prepared a document
appointing Joker as an officer of Gotham Bank.

Unfortunately, in the ensuing melee...

he snatched the document
and made off with it.

- Holy bankruptcy. You don't mean...?
- Alas I do, Robin.

Under the alias of W.C. Whiteface...

Joker is now the legal vice chairman...

of the board of the
Gotham National Bank.

Look, he's got his criminal robots
installed as tellers.

Ominous indeed.

Bruce Wayne is chairman of the board
of this bank. Can he fire them?

Regrettably not, Robin.

Vice chairman has complete control
of personnel according to the charter...

however we could not anticipate
such a pass as this.

Well now, it's Batman and Robin.

- Good afternoon, Batman.
- Good afternoon.

And what can I do for you?
Perhaps a small Batcave improvement loan?

No, thank you.

We're here in search of criminal activity.

Ooh! Ha-ha-ha!

That's priceless, priceless.

Oh, the blind blundering bats
are getting funnier and funnier.

Anything amiss, Mr. Flamm?

Nothing, Batman. Mr. Whiteface
has this branch in apple pie order.

Holy stomachache, some sour apple pie.

Are you aware that your new tellers
are actually a pair of robots?

Oh, well, yes, I did suspect that...

but our customers find them
positively charming...

and our mid-day audit
was correct to the penny.

Come on, Robin.

That twisted mocking fiend.
What's he up to?

All too obvious, he's playing honest
to set the stage for a criminal coup...

that will stagger our imaginations.
- Sure, Batman, but what?

That's a good question, Robin, I wish...

Wait a minute, here he comes
with that deluded moll of his.

If we play our cards right,
perhaps we can cull a clue.

Hello there, Mr. Pasty Whiteface,
going somewhere?

Ho, oh! Don't they wish they knew.

We'd better follow them, Robin.

From the look on his face,
they're off to rob a church poor box.

Why, you impertinent flying rodent...

Miss Miller and I are off
to see my associate...

millionaire Bruce Wayne,
on a most important matter. Ha!

Well, well.

It looks like we're getting closer to
the heart of this criminal artichoke.

- We could run him in, Batman.
- What?

Look at that crazy Joke-mobile.

I bet it violates 50 sections
of the Gotham State Vehicle Safety Code.

Don't be foolish, Robin.
Far better that we eavesdrop...

on his unscheduled meeting
with millionaire Bruce Wayne.

Let's go, Robin, no use hounding
these innocent citizens.

Let's take the Batmobile in
for a safety check, shall we?

You're right, Batman, it's long overdue.

Good afternoon, sir.

I hope it will be, Alfred.
We're expecting callers.

When they arrive, show no emotion,
but usher them in.

The next voice
you hear will be your own, Mr. Wayne.

Ha, ha. Remember?

But, you see...

I foolishly succumbed
to the temptation of speculation...

with the funds of the Wayne Foundation.
The results were catastrophic.

Tomorrow is the annual accounting
and if I don't have...

- Stop at once.
- Ho-ho-ho.

Gosh, Bruce, how could you?

Temptation, Dick.
A sudden drop in the stock market...

a search for an easy way.

It's ruined stronger men than myself.

So, Mr. Whiteface, what's the point
of your gloomy reprise?

Blackmail, Mr. Wayne.

You ungrateful devil. Isn't it enough that
Bruce appointed you vice chairman of the bank?

Don't dip your oar in this sordid
sea, Dick. You might get besmirched.

All right, it just burns me up.
The filthy greed of some people.

As you were saying, Mr. Whiteface?

Imagine my ghastly situation, Mr. Wayne.
Legally installed in the bank...

but watched like an insect
by that infernal Caped Crusader.

If I misappropriate a dime,
the Bat will pounce.

Yes, I can understand for someone
of your dubious character...

that might prove annoying.

Yes, my demands, Mr. Wayne:

Unless you want that taped confession
sent to the authorities...

you will lure
the Dynamic Duo into a trap...

deliver me the lifeless corpse
of Batman and the Boy Wonder.

That is impossible.

Bruce Wayne may be a crooked embezzler,
but he's not a killer.

- Right, Bruce?
- You phrase it well, Dick.

Since the murder of my parents
by dastardly criminals...

violence has been anathema to me.

We've been foiled, Joker.

- That guy's a milksop.
- Uh-huh.

Very well then, we must be content
with our humorous alternate plan B.

- Plan B?
- Plan B?

Oh, Brucie pie, yes, yes, yes!

I beg your pardon?

Oh, you're a lucky chap, Mr. Wayne.
Ha-ha-ha!

My pretty protégé, Miss Miller,
has just consented to marry you.

I'll be faithful forever in my fashion.

I'll love you until the oceans
are hung up and dried.

Oh, and by the way,
here is the marriage contract.

Oh, let me commend you
on your generosity.

The initial settlement
is 3 million dollars.

Hello, society editor?

This is Mr. Whiteface
of the Gotham National Bank.

Yeah.

I have an announcement
which might be of interest.

Oh, darling, you're yummy.

Read all about it. Millionaire Bruce Wayne
to wed reformed gun moll.

Banker's pretty protégé.

Extra, extra, read all about it.

Monstrous.

- This alliance all but beggars belief.
- Saints preserve us.

And the bride has a record longer
than both my arms and both my legs...

stitched end to end.

What's on your mind?

Batman, have you read
the dire news about Bruce Wayne?

Love is blind, commissioner.
Bruce Wayne is over 21.

I fear there is nothing we can do.

She's a fetching creature, Robin.

Bruce might find it
not without certain pleasures.

Holy madness, Batman, I don't dig this.

Bruce Wayne didn't embezzle,
that was just a ploy.

Joker's blackmail threat
isn't worth a tinker's darn.

Yes and no, Robin.
The way I set the caper up...

I'm afraid I couldn't
explain that tape...

without compromising
our secret true identities.

Gosh, yes. Ouch, I hadn't thought of that.

Luckily for us, however, there's one
weak link in this criminal chain.

- Where?
- Think, Robin, think.

Rehearse this curious affair
from the very beginning.

You should see one gigantic foothold
which we haven't even laid a hand on.

A foothold we haven't laid a hand on?

- Gosh, you have me buffaloed, Batman.
- I'll give you a hint, Robin.

Our secret weapon is a dead stranger
in this Batcave.

Dead stranger in this...

- Holy remote-control robot.
- Exactly, Robin.

Joker's Mr. Glee, whom we captured
earlier in this adventure.

If we could just solve the secret
of his control mechanism...

we'd have the other two robots
dancing in our control.

NARRATOR". Watch out, Bruce Wayne,
for as the Caped Crusaders toil...

a strange meeting takes place
in Commissioner Gordon's office.

- Well, Dr. Floyd?
- Yeah, yeah, yeah.

It's no doubt, from the symptoms
you describe me...

"Bruce Wayne is victim from the well-known
second childhood syndrome."

Sufficiently so to commit him
to some mental institution?

Yeah, yeah, yeah, naturally.

One other vital point, doctor.

How long would you say Mr. Wayne
has suffered from this condition?

Well, uh, the incubation period is slow.

Perhaps three months,
surely not less than two.

- Saints be praised.
- Yes, Chief O'Hara, we're free to act.

Wayne was definitely mentally incompetent
when he appointed the Joker to his bank.

So, uh, what do we do?

We have no choice.

The poor fellow's irrational behavior threatens
the entire financial structure of Gotham City.

- Chief O'Hara?
- Yes, sir.

Alert your Anti-lunatic Squad.

If Batman won't help us,
we'll do it ourselves.

Bring in millionaire Bruce Wayne
in a straitjacket.

Yes, sir.

Well, I think we have
his wavelengths analyzed.

Shall we give it a spin?

- Ready, Robin?
- Ready.

Mr. Glee, in the name of justice,
I summon you back to life.

Rise, please.

Holy Frankenstein, we've done it.

Now the fun begins, Robin. With Joker's
nasty robots at our command, we'll...

- Alfred here.
- Yes, Alfred?

It's Chief O'Hara, sir.

He wishes to see Mr. Wayne
on a matter of urgency.

Tell him to wait, Alfred.

I'll be right back, Robin.
Meanwhile, here's the plan.

- Hello, chief.
- Wrap him up, boys.

- Chief O'Hara, what's the meaning of this?
- It's a court order, Mr. Wayne.

Don't worry, you'll have a nice long rest
in Happy Acres. Come on, boys.

I'm a personal friend
of Commissioner Gordon!

What? Bruce taken off in a straitjacket?

I observed it myself, Master Robin.

Holy stewpot, and I've just
transmitted Batman's orders...

to those robots at the bank.
- Indeed.

- This blow does seem ill-timed.
- We haven't a minute to lose.

- Quick, Alfred, put on your trusty Batman suit.
- Roger.

I believe that's them ahead, Master Robin.

It's them, all right. First I'll give
that wagon a little touch of Batray.

- Good shot, Master Robin.
- Thanks, Alfred.

Now for the super-powered Batmagnet.

With any luck, we'll latch onto
the metal buckles of that straitjacket.

- Good thinking.
- Are you okay?

Yes, I rolled with the fall. Now get me out
of this overly tailored jacket.

- Your spare Batsuit, sir.
- Thank you, Alfred.

I'll be back in a moment.

Quickly, Robin, to the Batmobile.

The medical findings,
my dear Mr. Whiteface.

Bruce Wayne was not of sound mind
when he appointed you to this position.

- Vacate these premises at once.
- Fraud, frame-up!

Joker, never mind,
we've still got me and Brucie.

Hey-

My dear wife, Josephine,
I've been looking for you everywhere.

So that's your game,
aiding and abetting attempted bigamy.

Holy wedding cake,
wait till we tell Bruce Wayne.

- You creep, I'm not your wife.
- What?

Have you forgotten our honeymoon
at Niagara Falls?

Oh, boy, he's following
our secret orders perfectly.

Why, you mechanical moron,
what's gotten into you?

Help, stick-up!

Empty your purse, madam.
Hand me the contents.

Your wallet, sir,
or a bullet between your eyes.

What is this madness? Am I dreaming?

Joker, our robots must be getting orders
from someplace else.

- Ooh.
- Don't look at us, Joker.

We just dropped in for that small Batcave
improvement loan that you mentioned...

but in view of the strange criminal activity
that seems to be transpiring here...

- Let's rack them up, Batman.
- Good idea, Robin.

Robots, Boff and Yock and Glee, reprogram,
ignore all previous instructions.

Get the Dynamic Duo.

Wow, we're double-crossed.

That's the trouble with robots, Robin.

They lack even the most minimal
sense of loyalty.

Now let's conclude this ugly
little charade, shall we, Robin?

Get them.

Ugh. Where am I?

You're about to start a journey you should
know well by now, Joker: up the river.

Here's the biggest joke.
It was all a bluff, Joker.

We didn't have one darn thing on you until
you ordered those robots to try to kill us.

Fantastic, Boy Wonder,
what incredible brain work.

Batman, if ever you
see Bruce Wayne, tell him...

Tell him it might have been fun.

I'll tell him.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Ah, stand clear, everyone.

I declare Herr Wayne's
mental recovery is complete.

Capital.

Uh, without doubt, the bump on the head...

when he accidentally
fell from the paddy wagon...

restored him among us sane peoples.

- Thank you very much, doctor.
- Yeah, yeah, yeah.

If only I could make a similar
examination of the head...

from the Fledermaus Mensch.

- The what?
- The Fledermaus Mensch.

How's your German, Dick?

Fledermaus Mensch.

- Why, that's German for Batman.
- Right you are, old chum.

What wonders there must be
in the Fledermaus Mensch's head.

Oh, I don't know.

Oh, come now, Bruce, don't joke.
The brain of Batman, oh, miraculous.

I'll make you a bet, doctor.

If you were to have the opportunity
to study Batman's brain...

with all its myriad flaws...

I think you'd find it
not terribly unlike my own.

Mother of mercy, get the smelling salts.
Mr. Wayne is having a relapse.