Original subtitles

This yacht is bringing...

a revolutionary scientific invention to Gotham City.

On a peaceful afternoon motor ride...

millionaire Bruce Wayne and his youthful ward, Dick Grayson...

have been summoned back to Wayne Manor...

by an urgent but anonymous call for help.

The invention and its custodian...

are reported in grave danger aboard the yacht.

Never ones to shirk responsibility...

Bruce and Dick- with characteristic speed and resolve-

descend promptly to the Batcave.

And then, as they have done many times before...

as Batman and Robin—

courageous warriors against crime-

they are off, once again, to the rescue.

Atomic batteries to power.

- Turbines to speed. - Roger. Ready to move out.

Batmobile to airport.

Red alert. Prepare Batcopter for immediate takeoff.

Batmobile approaching Batcopter.

Red alert! Red alert!

Gotham Tower to all aircraft in the Gotham control zone.

Enter your holding pattern. Repeat: Enter your holding pattern.

Batcopter cleared for takeoff.

Gives a feller a good feelin' to know they're up there doin' their job.

Bat drift angle: 0-3 to starboard.

Roger. Correcting to port.

Altitude: 3-1-7.

Sink rate:.49.

- Drop bat ladder. - Bat ladder away.

Lock computer on afterdeck. Set automatic bat hold.

Watch out, Batman. This could be tricky.

Have no fear, Robin. I'll keep all my wits about me.

So long— for a minute.

Batman to Robin. Ease off on the power.

Increase sink rate.

Roger. Wilco.

Take her up!

Holy sardine!

Hand me down the shark repellent bat spray!

All right. Enough pictures.

This press conference must be brief, ladies and gentlemen.

You're lucky the Dynamic Duo will talk to you at all.

You there, Mr. Merrick, of the Gotham City Times.

According to rumor, Batman...

a transatlantic yacht approaching this city simply disappeared.

Nonsense. How can a yacht "simply" disappear?

- You mean it isn't true? - I stand on my answer, Mr. Merrick.

Mr. Stanley of the Globe.

This yacht, I believe, belonged to the famous Big Ben Distilleries.

That's right.

Isn't the firm's proprietor, Commodore Schmidlapp, bringing with him...

a fantastic new invention from the Big Ben's research laboratory?

Please, no more questions about that ship.

What about that exploding shark?

Doubtless an unfortunate animal who chanced to swallow a floating mine.

I wouldn't worry about that either, Mr. Merrick. You there, Miss-

Comrade Kitanya Irenya Tatanya Karenska Alisoff.

I am from the MoscowBugle.

You grace us with your presence. May I be of service?

Ifyou please to take off the mask to give the better picture?

Great Scott! Batman take off his mask?

- The woman must be mad! - Please, Chief O'Hara, all of you.

This young lady is a stranger to our shores.

Her request is not unnatural, however impossible to grant.

- Impossible? - Indeed.

If Robin and I were to remove our masks...

the secret of our true identities would be revealed.

Completely destroying their value as ace crime fighters.

Sure, ma'am. Not even Commissioner Gordon and meself know who they really are.

In fact, our own relatives we live with don't know.

But your so curious costumes?

Don't be put off by them, ma'am. Under this garb, we're perfectly ordinary Americans.

You are like the masked vigilantes in the westerns, no?

Certainly not! Batman and Robin are fully deputized agents of the law.

"Support your police. " That's our message.

Well said, Robin.

And no better way to end this press conference.

Thank you and good day.

- Batman— - Never mind. Come on. Everybody out now.

We're all busy here. Get 'em out.

A fine job, Batman. You allayed their fears magnificently.

What else could I have done? If I'd told the truth, panic would grip the city.

The truth. Sure, and what is the truth?

A decoy- a strange, anonymous warning...

that Commodore Schmidlapp is in danger to lure me into a trap.

A fiendish attempt on Batman's life.

You mean, while they were luring you to a watery grave...

the Commodore's yacht was being hijacked someplace else?

- Precisely. - And who behind it? Not a clue.

Tell me, Commissioner. What known supercriminals are at large just now?

I'll check at once, Batman.

Bonnie, let's have the latest status report on known supercriminals at large.

- Yes, sir. - Thank you, Bonnie.

Coming up, Batman, on the closed-circuit TV screen. Come over here.

Man ] Status report.

Known supercriminals not currently imprisoned.

- The Penguin. - That pompous waddling master of foul play.

Maestro of a million criminal umbrellas.

- The Joker! - Devilish clown prince of crime.

If I only had a nickel for every time he's baffled us.

- What? The Riddler loose too? - So it seems.

Loose to plague us with his criminal conundrums.

Gosh! And the Catwoman!

End of status report.

Could be any one of them, but which one? What—

Which ones?

Pretty fishy what happened to me on that ladder.

You mean, where there's a fish, there could be a Penguin.

But wait. It happened at sea.

See? "C" for Catwoman.

Yet, an exploding shark... was pulling my leg.

- The Joker. - It all adds up to a sinister riddle.

Riddle-er. Riddler?

Oh, a thought strikes me...

so dreadful, I scarcely dare give it utterance.

The four of them— their forces combined.

- Holy nightmare! - Batman, could it be?

I don't know.

But I think I know where to find a clue.

Come on, Robin, to the Batcave.

We haven't one moment to lose!

- Ahoy, Catwoman. - Imbecile!

How many times have I told you?

Never use my real name in public!

You and your trained exploding shark.

Faugh! Quack!

How should I know they'd have a can of shark repellent bat spray handy?

Why, you sniveling sardine!

Why, you pompous puffed-up penguin!

Oh, friends, make peace.

Have a shake on me. -

Oh, a joke a day keeps the gloom away.

Sic 'em, Hecate. Scratch out their eyes.

Take away that ravenous panther!

So help me, Catwoman, I'll feed him to the birds.

I'll incapacitate the beast with my trick confetti.

United Underworld.

We're about as united as the members...

of the United World headquarters on Gotham East River.

- What's the matter with you all? - She's right.

She's right. Ifwe don't manage to somehow swallow our supercriminal pride...

- I'm afraid we're going— - Right, Mr. Riddler!

Quite right. We must hang together...

or most assuredly we shall hang separately.

Oh, and what a pity that would be-

on the eve of the greatest criminal coup anyone ever dreamed of.

Aha! How did it go, Catwoman?

Purr-fectly. Purr-fectly.

In my disguise as Kitka...

I penetrated their press conference.

- The fools are completely baffled. - Eh, but undrowned.

Yes, unfortunately.

Batman's boots didn't even look damp.

How's our prisoner?

- Still doesn't know he's been kidnapped? - He hasn't the foggiest.

He just keeps ringing for his confounded tea.

There he goes again.

- Take it to him, man. - Oh!

Ah!

Ah!

Come in.

Your tea, Commodore Schmidlapp.

Oh, thank you, steward. Jolly good service aboard this yacht.

- Oh, we strive to give satisfaction, sir. - Ye-

I say, steward, your face has the most ghastly pallor.

Are you sure you're getting enough of the good old sea air?

Oh, my duties keep me mostly undercover, sir.

Oh, too bad. Too bad.

Any notion how much longer this yacht will remain here, fogbound off the Grand Banks?

Oh, I really couldn't say, sir.

Oh, well. Gives me a jolly good chance to get caught up on my Dickens.

Still, I would like to get to Gotham City one of these days.

I have a deuced clever invention with me, you know.

Stored down in the hold.

Should be worth millions ofYankee dollars. Pip, pip!

Oh! Well, "Pip! pip!" to you, sir.

If you wish anything further, just ring.

Commodore Schmidlapp's invention in our hands—

the whole world almost literally in our grasp—

and Batman and Robin still alive to block us.

Everything "pip, pip" with the prisoner, comrades.

- He hasn't a clue. - No, but I bet the Dynamic Duo has.

- What? - A clue on how we made that ship disappear.

- And when they solve that— - Of course. They'll be out to investigate.

But we'll be there first. If we hurry, that is. If we hurry.

Catwoman, you tend to this headquarters.

Attention, you unfathomable finks!

- Yo-ho! - Yo-ho! - Now hear this.

Call down to our secret river-bottom dock...

and prepare our submarine for sea!

- Yo-ho! - Yo-ho! - Yo-ho what?

- Sir! - Sir! - Quack.

Holy Merlin the magician! Get set for a shock.

The bat camera was aimed right at the yacht when it took this picture.

So, my strange hunch was right.

- I don't get it, Batman. - Think, Robin. As you truly remarked...

no one can make a seagoing vessel simply disappear-

provided it was ever really there at all.

- You mean— - Precisely, Robin.

The yacht we thought we saw was a mere illusion...

a tricky projection akin to the common desert mirage.

It deceived our naked eyes...

but was blocked by the bat camera's polarized bat filter.

I think I know where that projection came from too.

Observe- that bell buoy.

- What's the matter with it? - Quite a lot, I fancy.

Let's see. The coordinates of our position were 10.3 by 69-B.

Quickly. Feed those figures into the navigational aid computer.

Roger.

Negative. No legal bell buoy at that position.

Ha! As I surmised.

An illegal projection buoy cleverly camouflaged.

Wow! Maybe the crooks left fingerprints on it.

Good thinking, Robin. Let's find out. To the Batboat. Fast!

- One thing I don't dig, Batman. - Oh?

If that ship was just a mirage, what happened to the real one?

Taken to some secret island hideaway...

with every soul aboard save one.

- Commodore Schmidlapp? - Precisely.

For some baffling reason, the hijackers needed him or his invention...

as part of their criminal scheme.

Keep an eye on the scope. Watch for suspicious vessels.

I'm watching, Batman.

It looks like we've got the whole ocean to ourselves.

Diving planes, Mr. Bluebeard. Hoist her three degrees.

Yo-ho! Hoist three degrees.

I certainly hope you know what you're doing, Penguin.

Mr. Riddler, I ignore your insipid insinuations!

Hmm! Hah! Mr. Joker!

You're leaning on the current control.

Don't sound so bossy, if you please!

My dear sir, as the poet says...

"On land, you may command. At sea, it is me. "

Whistle Piping ] - Now hear this. Now hear this.

This is your captain speaking, my fine-pinioned pirates.

We're approaching the tricky buoy.

Sharpen your cutlasses. There may be skulduggery ahead!

- Yo-ho! - What?

- What? - Unidentified small craft bearing 1-1-3.

Mr. Bluebeard!

- Hold her steady! Up periscope! - Yo-ho! Up periscope.

Great quivering icebergs! Just as I hoped.

Watch your step, Robin.

An underwater shark cage- the source of that fiendish fish.

What cruelty— stuffing a poor shark with a ton of deadly T.N.T.

True. Nothing's sacred to those devils.

Torpedoes! Torpedoes! What are we waiting for?

Chain ofcommand, Mr. Riddler.

The Penguin runs a taut ship.

Now hear this, Mr. Joker. Load the torpedo tubes.

Yo-ho!

Load torpedo tubes.

Salt and corrosion—

the infamous old enemies of the crime fighter.

No prints here.

Look here, Batman.

That tricky mirage projector must be behind this plate.

Wow! What a set of superpower lenses.

No wonder we were fooled.

Look, Robin.

Holy LongJohn Silver! A pirate periscope.

They've spotted us. Set torpedoes to automatic homing.

Yo-ho! Set torpedoes to automatic homing.

You crazy bird. Fire them off! Quickly!

Mr. Morgan, kindly activate...

the remote-control Penguin magnet inside that buoy.

Yo-ho!

Hey!

- Holy glue pot! What's going on? - The fiends!

They've converted this buoy into a gigantic magnet.

It's got us by the metallic objects in our utility belts.

Torpedo tubes armed.

Batman!

We're helpless in this monstrous invisible grip.

Steady, Robin. I see one hope.

What, Batman?

If I can just pry loose... my utility-belt transmitter.

Mr. Joker, are you ready to fire?

Yo-ho! Ready to fire.

Five, four, three, two—

- Fire one! - Fire one!

Torpedoes!

If I can just reverse the polarity-

send out waves of superenergy.

- What happened? - Mr. Joker, fire two!

Fire two!

Here comes another one!

You and your reconditioned war surplus torpedoes!

He must be using a superenergy reverse polarizer.

Mr. Joker, fire three!

Fire three!

Here comes a third one, Batman!

Confound it! The batteries are dead!

This one's getting through.

It is. It's getting through.

- Yo-ho-ho-ho! - Yo-ho-ho-ho!

Surface, Mr. Bluebeard. Surface.

Let us feast our eyes on the watery remains.

Gosh, Batman, the nobility of the almost-human porpoise.

True, Robin. It was noble of that animal...

to hurl himself into the path of that final torpedo.

He gave his life for ours.

Operator, please give me the Pentagon in Washington, Navy Department.

Oops. Too bad.

Admiral Fangschliester's office.

Hello. Batman speaking.

- Oh, hello. - Who is it?

- Batman. - Oh, Batman.

Hello, Batman. Ahoy. What can I do for you?

Hello, Admiral. A routine question.

Have you recently sold any war surplus submarines? And if so, to whom?

Oh, just a moment. I'll have to look that up.

Keep practicing.

Answer affirmative, Batman.

We disposed of a war surplus submarine last Friday— a preatomic model.

To some chap named P.N. Gwynne.

- P.N. Gwynne? - The Penguin.

Did this P.N. Gwynne leave an address?

No. Just a post office box number. Would you like it?

No, thank you, Admiral. You've been very helpful.

Avast and belay, Batman. Your tone sounds rather grim.

We haven't done anything foolish, have we?

Disposing of preatomic submarines...

to persons who don't even leave their full addresses?

Good day, Admiral.

Gosh.

The Penguin in command of a preatomic submarine.

Grave situation, Robin.

If only we knew what he was up to, what he was—

Holy Polaris!

From that submarine, no doubt.

That missile! Look, it's written something.

A riddle— in the form of a joke.

Let's race back to headquarters, Robin.

You know what this means, don't you?

Our blackest fears confirmed.

Penguin, Joker, Riddler- those three supercriminals, their forces combined.

For heaven only knows what infamous objective.

It may be worse than that, gentlemen.

- Worse? - Saints alive. How can that be?

Look at this pair of joking riddles.

"What does a turkey do when he flies upside down?"

- He gobbles up. - Of course.

And number two.

"What weighs six ounces, sits in a tree and is very dangerous?"

- A sparrow with a machine gun. - Yes, of course.

Now combine both answers.

What kind of creature would gobble up a bird in a tree?

Heaven protect us!

- A cat! - A cat! - Yes, gentlemen.

The criminal catalyst in this entire affair-

our old archenemy Catwoman.

Penguin, Joker, Riddler and Catwoman too.

The sum of the angles of that rectangle is too monstrous to contemplate.

We've been given the plainest warning.

- They're working together to take over- - To take over what, Batman?

- Gotham City? - Any two of them might try that.

The whole country?

If it were three of them, I would say yes. But four?

Their minimum objective must be...

the entire world.

The United World Building, dear comrades in crime.

Our objective- the Security Council.

Sitting like fat birds in a tree, just waiting to be snatched.

And you bungled it again!

Again the Dynamic Duo escaped our trap!

Faugh! Passing porpoises which intercept torpedoes.

There ought to be a piscatorial statute.

Time is getting short!

We've got to get Batman before he gets us.

Mmm. Perhaps I could lure him into the fatal embrace...

of a giant exploding octopus.

You silly bird! They've just been through one of your fishy explosions.

- And they're still in one piece. - Indeed?

I suppose they'll be broken up by your moldy jokes.

- Aw— - Shut up, all of you!

I see the way to do it.

We'll play each of our treacherous trumps in one hand...

and we'll do it right here.

- How? - How? The end.

The end. Oh, boy.

We shall spring them from the Joker's jack-in-the-box...

through that window, out over the sea...

and into the waiting arms...

of the Penguin's exploding octopus.

The trigger? One of my riddles, of course.

And the bait? You, Catwoman.

You're mad, Riddler.

The minute Batman spots her, he'll bop her with a batarang.

You don't understand,Joker.

She will be disguised as Kitka.

And as Kitka, she shall lure some millionaire into a kidnap trap—

Of course. With a clever clue pointing here.

Oh! Which will make Batman race to the rescue.

Capital!

But who are we going to kidnap?

Ah. I know the perfect victim.

I know the perfect victim.

I know the perfect— Bruce Wayne...

the millionaire head of that disgusting do-gooding Wayne Foundation.

Ooh! Delicious!

Just the sort of square citizen Batman will dash to rescue.

- Then snap! - Into the combination trap.

Purr-fect, Riddler. Purr-fect. Mmm!

Comrade Wayne, my name is Kitanya Irenya Tatanya Karenska Alisoff.

I'm from the Moscow Bugle. My friends call me Kitka.

Kitka.

Kitka— a charming acronym.

Thank you, Comrade Wayne.

You know, the fame of the Wayne Foundation...

is known from Leningrad to Kamchatka.

It works for peace and understanding.

Why, your own picture has appeared countless times in the MoscowBugle.

I'm most grateful. I wasn't aware of that.

Oh, da. Da

You say you found these riddles written on Wayne Foundation stationery...

slipped under the door of your borrowed penthouse apartment?

Yes, Comrade Wayne. That is why I brought them to you.

At first, I thought it was some foolishness.

But then I remembered—

Is there not a bourgeois criminal cad in this country called the Riddler...

who preys upon the workers ofAmerica?

Your jargon is quaint, Miss Kitka.

But, uh, there is such a creature, I believe.

Well, what do we do now...

report these riddles to your police or-

or perhaps to that masked Cossack Batman?

Well, that's hardly necessary at the moment.

Doubtless it's the work of some harmless crank.

Nevertheless, shall we give this matter...

further consideration over dinner tonight?

Oh, what a purr-fectly lovely idea.

I'll telephone, if you'll excuse me...

to cancel a previous engagement.

Alfred will see you to the door.

Do vechara.

Do vechara, Comrade Wayne.

- Oh, Alfred. - Yes, sir?

See Miss Kitka out, please. Take the service elevator.

- Meet me in the Batcave. Emergency. - Very good, sir. Yes.

Robin, listen to these riddles.

Tell me if you interpret them as I do.

One. What has yellow skin and writes?

- A ballpoint banana. - Right.

Two. What people are always in a hurry?

Rushing people? Russians.

Right again. Now, what would you say they mean?

Banana. Russian. I've got it!

Someone Russian is gonna slip on a banana peel and break their neck.

Precisely, Robin— the only possible meaning.

A clear threat to Miss Kitka's life.

- Who? - Miss Kitka.

The charming Russian journalist for the Moscow Bugle.

In some baffling way, she must have unwittingly stumbled on the criminals' plot.

What is the scheme, sir?

Tonight, Bruce Wayne will go out on the town with Miss Kitka.

A not displeasing chore, sir.

Indeed, Alfred. I've rarely met a girl...

who is such a potent argument in favor of international relations.

However, you and Robin will dog our footsteps in the Batmobile.

- You'll keep constant watch via the micro-TV bat scanner. - Sure.

If the Riddler tries to make good on his filthy threat—

I'll bash him brutally.

- Then we close in for the kill with the police. - Precisely.

- Alfred, do you have your driver's license? - In my wallet, sir.

Good man. Drive carefully. Good luck. Good hunting.

This may prove to be a most memorable night.

This curtain which separates our countries is so foolish.

If we could just contrive some way...

of getting more deeply involved with each other.

Oh, da.

Da We must search for such a method.

I don't think it's right for us to listen in to this, Alfred.

I mean, some things have to be private, even for a crime fighter.

Your discretion is admirable, Master Robin. Yes.

- Time for another check-in, is it not, Master Robin? - Roger.

Commissioner.

Yes? Oh.

Yes, Boy Wonder?

Batmobile position: Gotham Central Park...

proceeding south on West Drive.

About to pass Benedict Arnold Monument.

Great Scott. Still in the park?

It's been almost an hour. What the devil are they doing?

No comment, Commissioner.

Let's just say, no sign of criminal activity.

Uh, yes, I understand.

I've just thought of a clever ruse, Commissioner.

Send Chief O'Hara up to the roof and have him flash the bat signal.

Well, certainly, if you say so, Boy Wonder. But why?

When the crooks see it, they'll figure Batman and I are racing to headquarters.

Thinking we're out of the way might make them play into our hands...

with an immediate strike at Miss Kitka.

Clever. Devilishly clever.

Thank you, sir. Batmobile over and out.

Right.

Chief O'Hara. Dash to the roof. Flash the bat signal.

Yes, sir.

Oh, shades ofSmolensk. What is that?

Incredible. I don't-

Ah, of course.

- How clever. - Clever, Comrade Wayne?

I mean clever device, Miss Kitka.

It's the famous bat signal flashed from the roof of police headquarters.

- Oh. - Batman and Robin must be racing there now in response to it.

Then you did get the police to call them in.

- For my protection. - Hmm?

- Yes. Yes. - Oh.

How purr-fectly wonderful of you.

Mmm! I close my eyes...

and I dream of all those savage Cossacks...

racing over the steppes on their brutal mission.

Mmm.

How strange.

I close my eyes, and I dream of something...

quite astonishingly different.

Da, da. Keep your eyes closed.

Continue with this dream.

The dream continues.

Da. Da.

- It approaches a climax. - No. Nyet.

Not so fast. Be more slow.

- Miss Kitka. - Hmm?

May I see you home to that borrowed penthouse apartment?

He swallowed the cat bait.

And now to make him bat bait.

Finks Morgan, Bluebeard and Quetch, break out the jet-pack umbrellas.

Yo-ho-ho, sir!

Excuse me.

I'll slip into something more comfortable while your cocoa is warming.

Is that prudent, Master Robin?

Our instructions were to keep watch.

I don't know about prudent, Alfred...

but it's sure as heck the only decent thing to do.

Hmm. Perhaps.

Yes. Yes.

Ah! There it is!

Seventy-third Street and Concord Avenue.

Follow me. Down to the terrace.

Ho!

"And all my days are trances...

"and all my nightly dreams are where thy dark eye glances...

and where thy footstep gleams. "

...Comrade Wayne.

Edgar Allan Poe, Miss Kitka.

"To One in Paradise. " First stanza.

About that dream you had.

- Do we dare? - Why not?

Yes, of course. Why not?

Of what use is a dream if not a blueprint for courageous action?

Oh! Into action, comrade. Mmm!

Miss Kitka, I have the strangest feeling...

that I am about to be utterly and madly carried away.

- Aha! Aha! - This is a kidnapping!

Our joke's on you!

You filthy criminals.

- Much as one deplores indiscretion, Master Robin— - You're right, Alfred.

I'll just take one tiny, tiny peek.

- Holy demolition! - Bless my dustpan!

Cover the exits, Alfred. I'll race up there with my bat rope.

Very good, sir.

Holy Halloween!

Huh! Strange. Batman should have been here hours ago.

Perhaps you didn't leave a clear-enough clue in your apartment.

Of course I did. I can't understand why Batman hasn't dashed into our trap.

It's all set.

He puts his foot here, my secret jack-in-the-box fires...

shooting him out through the window, out over the sea...

into the waiting arms of Penguin's exploding octopus.

What a deliciously humorous trajectory.

And nothing to link us with the crime.

Quacking ] - [ Yowling ]

You abominable outlaws.

What have you done with Miss Kitka?

She's quite well, Mr. Wayne.

I swear, by heaven, if you've harmed that girl...

I'll kill you all.

I'll rend you limb from limb!

Mr. Wayne, must you be so impulsive?

Where is she, Catwoman? Show me Miss Kitka...

or I'll wreck this place with my dying breath!

Blindfold the captive.

Lead him down the labyrinthine path to Chamber 17.

Two minutes. No more.

- Turn on the secret microphone. - Yo-ho!

Quiet. Quiet.

- Miss Kitka. - Comrade Wayne.

- Are you all right? - Da. Da.

I'll curse myself forever, Miss Kitka.

This nasty soup we're in is largely of my own brewing.

If I hadn't let your beauty lull me off guard—

Off guard, comrade?

There are some things I cannot disclose, Miss Kitka.

Suffice it to say that we're in the hands of the underworld's most vicious foursome.

I fear we have...

nothing to look forward to but death.

It may not be that black, Comrade Wayne.

Batman and Robin are probably hot on our trail.

From something I happened to overhear...

I think we are merely bait for Batman.

Once he is in their trap, we will be released.

A slender hope, Miss Kitka.

More slender than you can know.

You do not think Batman will get here?

That I cannot say.

Tell me. Did you overhear any mention...

of any other prisoner of this rotten gang?

No, I did not, Mr. Wayne.

Who on earth could you mean?

Commodore Schmidlapp ringing for his tea.

Oh, just a thought. It doesn't matter.

A speedy escape is our only hope.

A moment while I think.

I've got it. Why didn't I think of it sooner?

Of what, Comrade Wayne?

Up my left sleeve...

I have a tiny radio transmitter strapped above my elbow.

- What a curious device to carry. - Not at all, Miss Kitka.

Capitalists like myself who carry large sums of money...

often have such safety contrivances.

If I can just get at it.

Quickly. Wiggle around back to back.

Maybe you can reach it with your fingers.

Da.

Let's get him.

There we are.

You think you're pretty clever, don't you, Mr. Wayne?

Clever enough to outwit you, you stupid thug.

Well, we'll see about that.

Dear colleagues, let's see what's strapped...

about this fellow's left elbow, shall we?

Credulous creatures!

I knew you'd be listening in.

I told you that fish story about a radio-

Get him, you mollycoddles!

Miss— Miss Kitka, where are you?

- Great day in the morning! - Bruce! - Hello, Commissioner.

Come on, Dick. We're late for that important demonstration at the fish hatchery.

- Roger. - Excuse us, Commissioner.

Great Scott! You can't dash off now. Where were you held? How did you escape?

I escaped with the aid of Batman.

Thank goodness the Caped Crusader got there in time!

Yes, Commissioner, and you'd better return to police headquarters.

He may wish to call you there. Good day, Commissioner.

And so, my fine, "finkish" friends...

you have heard my astounding proposal.

What do you say?

What do you say?

One thing is certain. Our strike cannot be postponed.

We're at the mercy of the Gotham River tide.

Riddler's right for once.

It's now or never if we're to get through the channel.

Well, make up your minds! The Batman will never come here now.

But the police will— any instant.

So, to the Penguin's princely plan...

is it yes or no?

I say it's crazy.

But I say let's try it. We have to do something to get Batman out of the way.

Oh, go ahead, Penguin.

Mr. Joker, would you drop one of your little dream pills...

into Commodore Schmidlapp's tea?

- Mmm! Presto! - And then carry him down to the submarine.

Yo-ho!

Mr. Riddler, will you tell Mr. Quetch...

- to fetch the five guinea pigs? - Ah!

- Quetch, fetch the five guinea pigs. - Yo-ho!

Oh. Oh.

Yo-ho-ho, sir!

Now, my fine, fishy finks...

you see here Commodore Schmidlapp's pièce de no résistance—

an instant whiskey maker.

Waiting for us to put it to more universal use.

Now, don't be afraid.

You will feel nothing.

Now I am merely going to temporarily extract...

every bit of moisture from your body.

It's a painless operation.

Oh!

- Delightful! - Dehydrated.

Catwoman— Catwoman, will you get a dustpan...

and put every one of them very carefully into a separate vial?

Ooh! All right.

Mr. Riddler, would you prepare the submarine to get under way...

while I prepare a demolition charge...

of terrifying thrust to welcome the police?

- Where do we meet? - United World Building.

- United World Building. - On the Gotham East River.

- East River. - Thirty-ninth floor.

- Thirty-ninth floor. - I'll be waiting at the elevator.

- One hour? One hour. - One hour.

Here you are.

Oh, what mere criminal genius, Catwoman!

Who else but a genius could conceive such an audacious plot...

to deliberately trick Batman and Robin...

into inviting me into their secret Batcave...

with five dehydrated, death-dealing pirates at my command?

Careful, careful.

Every one of them has a mother.

Out batarang and bat rope. Stand clear.

When you think, Batman, with people in weird outfits—

like the four supercrooks hanging around here—

it's amazing someone hasn't already reported this place to the police.

It's a low neighborhood, full of rumpots.

They're used to curious sights, which they attribute to alcoholic delusions.

Gosh, drinking's sure a filthy thing, isn't it?

- I'd rather be dead than unable to trust my own eyes. - Uh-huh.

You're right, honey. There was somebody walking up the wall.

Ready with superblinding bat pellets.

- Away, Robin. Away! - But-But—

Come on, Batman! Batman!

Miss Kitka! Miss Ki—

Oh!

Quick! Everyone, flee for your lives!

Into the street!

Look out! Look out, please!

Some days, you just can't get rid of a bomb.

Batman!

Batman!

It's all right, Robin.

Holy heart failure!

Fortunately, I was able to dispose of that bomb in the nick oftime...

and shield myself behind these heavy iron pipes.

You risked your life to save that riffraff in the bar?

They may be drinkers, Robin, but they're also human beings...

and may be salvaged.

I had to do it.

But we've lost the trail of that angelic Miss Kitka. Stranded without a clue.

Ahoy there.

Could you chaps direct me to a policeman?

Commodore Schmidlapp's the name.

Big Ben Distilleries, you know.

Holy costume party. That's the Penguin.

- Obviously. - What's his game? I wonder.

What's your game, Penguin?

Penguin?

No, my name's Schmidlapp, old boy. Schmidlapp.

Your fingerprints will settle that hash, Penguin.

We'll check them against our mobile anticrime file in our Batmobile.

Let's see your hands.

Looks like... plastic-coated fingertips.

Yes, I scorched myself pressing a waistcoast.

I do believe that the attending surgeon did use plastic, yes.

It looks bad, Batman. This brassy bird has us buffaloed.

Not quite, Robin.

There's one method of identification which no criminal can evade.

Retinal eye patterns?

He's right, Robin. The pattern of myriad, tiny blood vessels...

in the retina of the eye— as individual as a fingerprint.

But don't you have a complete anti-criminal eye pattern master file...

in your fabulous Batcave?

- Why don't you take me there? - You'd be willing to submit yourself to a test?

Why, of course. It might be an amusing experience, don't you know?

Stand by to catch him, Robin. I'll give him the bat gas.

Oh-ho, what's that? Ba-Bat gas?

A harmless anesthetic...

necessary to prevent you from seeing the entrance to the Batcave.

If anyone knew that, they could pierce the secret of our true identities.

Ready, Commodore?

Oh, I say. What deucedly strange customs you colonials have. What?

Well, I'm ready.

To the Batmobile. This could be the break we've been looking for.

He's the Penguin, all right.

- I wonder why he let us bring him here. - We'll soon find out.

- I'll set up the anticrime eye checker. - Stay on the alert, Robin.

After I give him the bat wake, we must be ready for anything.

Well, now.

Oh, it's you.

We're here, eh? I see.

Oh, I s- This—

Oh, say!

This is extraordinary!

It's absolutely extraordinary!

I must say that your laboratory...

exceeds the limits of man's wildest imagination!

Absolutely. And could I trouble you for a glass ofwater?

Your bat gas seems to have left me with a somewhat...

parched sensation.

Over there. The drinking water dispenser is clearly marked.

Oh, yeah. Thank you. Thank you, sir.

Thank you very much, sir. Thank you, sir.

Help yourself, Commodore. Slake your thirst.

You'll have worse than a parched sensation when we're through with you.

Perhaps, perhaps. But I am appalled by your attitude, sir.

I mean, condemning me before the facts have been authoritatively established.

Yes. You are abrogating...

my constitutional rights, sir.

- All set, Batman. - Come on, Penguin.

Time to rip off your false feathers.

Coming, Batman.

I am coming at once.

- Holy hallucination! - I wish it were, Robin, but it's not.

It's five dehydrated pirates- rehydrated.

At 'em, me hearties! Shiver 'em from stem to stern!

Yo-ho-ho, sir!

Attack them, you faltering fink!

The pirates- they're gone! Popped like balloons! How'd it happen?

Whoever dehydrated those pirates...

could not have foreseen their accidental rehydration...

with the heavy water we use in recharging the atomic pile!

Which naturally left them in a highly unstable condition!

You saw it yourself, Robin.

The slightest impact was sufficient...

to instantly reduce them to antimatter.

Antimatter?

You mean they... won't be coming back?

No, Robin.

Not in this universe.

Let that be an object lesson...

in the dangers of tampering with the laws of Mother Nature.

My apologies, Commodore Schmidlapp.

It's clear that I've done you a cruel injustice.

- You have? - You were duped, brainwashed.

The criminals planted those dehydrated thugs on your person.

You were obviously under the influence...

of posthypnotic suggestion when you rehydrated them.

Come on down, Commodore.

Another sniff of bat gas, and we'll all return to the city.

Are you sure you didn't hurt your head in that fight, Batman?

Perfectly. Swallow this pill.

Now give our friend here a whiff of bat wake.

Good morning.

- What's wrong, Batman? - Manifold pressure's dropping.

I think we'd better stop and check.

Sorry about that, Commodore.

- Won't take a minute. - Oh, yes, it will!

Hey!

Yo-ho!

And away we go in my "Birdmobile"! One side, Caped Crusader.

- You okay, Robin? - I sure am, Batman, thanks to that anti-Penguin gas pill.

The pompous fool. He's played right into our hands.

Quickly. Via Batcycle to the Batcopter.

We'll track him to the gang's new hideout.

Disengage go-cart.

Bat scanner tracking the stolen Batmobile perfectly.

Port, two degrees. And steady as she goes.

Yo-ho! Port, two degrees!

We're almost there.

- Oh. Oh. - Hey, Riddler, where are you going?

To fire off some more of my riddling clues, of course.

- Riddler! - Yes?

You're mad, Riddler. Penguin's finished Batman by now.

That miserable, waddling mountebank of a bird.

He couldn't finish a bag of popcorn.

So, say Penguin failed. All the more reason not to hand them your crazy clues.

Oh, but I must. I must. Oh, outwitting Batman is my sole delight...

my joy, my heaven on Earth...

my very paradise.

Riddler! Come back!

Stolen Batmobile turning.

Now heading up Gotham River Drive.

Voilà.

Batman! Polaris-type missile coming right for us.

Hold tight, Robin. This may be tricky.

- Damage? - The tail rotor disengaged.

Brace yourself, Robin. We're going down.

This could be the end.

Ooh, ooh!

Now to find my riddling Polaris skywriter.

Look! Look! The Dynamic Duo!

Giggling ] - [ Yowling ]

I got them. I got them.

Holy horseshoe!

Some luck, landing right on top of a bed of foam rubber.

Yes, Robin. I'd say the odds against it...

would make even the most reckless gambler cringe.

True, I did think I'd spotted it out of the corner of my eye.

But—

That crazy missile- It wrote two more riddles before it blew up.

"What goes up white...

and comes down yellow and white"?

An egg!

"How do you divide seventeen apples...

among sixteen people?"

- Make applesauce. - Apples into applesauce—

a unification into one smooth mixture.

An egg— nature's perfect container...

the container of all our hopes for the future.

A unification and a container of hope?

- United World Organization! - Precisely, Robin!

And there's a special meeting of the Security Council today.

- If what I fear is true- - Wow! Let's commandeer a taxi!

No, Robin! Not at this time of day.

Luckily, we're in tip-top condition.

It'll be faster if we run. Let's go!

We are now passing through the grotto.

- Depth: a half fathom. - Engines: dead slow astern.

Yo-ho! Dead slow astern.

Ah, good. Just as the blueprints said—

an abandoned construction elevator.

Hecate, sniff out the weak spot.

- I hope Penguin made it. - Who needs him?

Stand back.

Hey! Can't you read?

Fine day for penguins. Looks like rain.

Yo-ho! My criminal coconspirators. We meet as planned.

And, no thanks to you, the Dynamic Duo has been silenced forever.

- - And blasted out of the sky by an incredible coincidence.

Oh, the delicious irony of it all.

Downed by one of Riddler's Polaris skywriters.

Oh, happy happenstance!

Now, hold your breath as we cross the hall.

There are still lingering traces of my finely filtered Penguin gas.

Holy marathon! I'm getting a stitch, Batman.

Let's hope it's a stitch in time, Robin, that saves nine-

the nine members of the United World Security Council.

Gentlemen, it is the considered opinion of Her Majesty's Government...

that we pursue peace at all costs.

Our poor, united world in microcosm.

I'm afraid they'll find our humor very, very dry.

Gentlemen, my country understands your position...

but in the interest of peace, we must—

We are doing everything in our possible power.

Gentlemen, it has always been our policy to maintain—

Quickly now! Each one in a separate vial.

And, boys, don't anybody sneeze.

Emergency! Seal this building!

- And turn off the ventilating system! - Robin's right.

The entire Security Council may have been dehydrated.

Emergency, operator! Emergency! Get me security!

Emergency, operator! Emergency! Get me security!

Up. Up. Up. Up. Up. "Up"!

Surrender, you criminals!

United Underworld is through!

Faugh! What's this, an apparition?

One false move, and you'll find out. We'll hurl our batarangs.

- To the elevator, boys! - Catwoman, stop, I said!

I don't think you mean that, Batman.

Miss Kitka dies if you take one more step. Go!

This way, Robin!

The Security Council— gone!

What a fiendishly clever way to abduct nine men from a heavily guarded building.

Where does that elevator go?

Downstairs, obviously...

to an abandoned submarine dock on the river.

Holy Captain Nemo!

They'll head for sea by way of Short Island Sound.

We have just one trump card left, Robin.

Heaven help the world if we fail.

Come on!

Down periscope. We're over the last bar.

Mr. Bluebeard, all engines full ahead.

Yo-ho! All engines full ahead.

What a delightful haul!

Mr. Riddler, will you kindly prepare those nine radio ransom messages?

- All right, all right. - And none of your stupid riddles. Do you understand?

Make those messages plain.

One billion dollars cash from each country.

Precisely, Mr. Riddler. To be delivered to our secret island...

by the horde of trained carrier pigeons...

which I shall presently provide.

But no whimsical embellishments, please. Make those messages clear!

"Make those messages clear!"

- Ooh, it's like a dream, Pengy, sweet. - Mm-hmm.

Nothing can stop us now.

Sonar contact. Range: 8,000. Bearing: 1-8-1.

Yo-ho! Sonar contact.

Small craft at 7,500. Bearing: 0-1.

What? Small craft?

It's moving incredibly fast, sir. Range is down to 7,000.

- It's the Batboat! - Faugh! Drat that cockleshell!

Mr. Bluebeard, steady on the diving plane.

Yo-ho! Steady on the diving plane!

I'll man the torpedo tubes.

Mr. Riddler, would you fire a surface-to-surface underwater homing missile?

Ah.

Missile ahoy!

Looks like it has a homing device in its nose cone.

Get ready for evasive action.

No use, Batman. It's tracking us.

Here. Take my bat radio. I looked it up this morning.

That class of missile receives on a wavelength of 164.1.

164.1.

Quickly now. Send a jamming signal.

It's starting down.

Farewell, Batman!

Farewell, Dynamic Duo!

Holy bikini! That was close!

Yo-ho. Small craft still closing.

Range: 4,000. Bearing: 8-8.

Faugh! They know how to jam our missiles!

Up to periscope depth!

Yo-ho! Up to periscope depth!

- Range: 3,500. - Get the bat charge launcher.

Roger.

They hold nine of the world's most eminent men in dehydrated condition.

Our task is not to sink that sub, merely to drive it to the surface.

Forward torpedo tubes. Prepare to fire.

Yo-ho! Forward torpedo tubes. Prepare to fire.

Five, four...

three, two—

Torpedoes- fire!

Torpedoes— fire!

Torpedoes away!

- Dive, Mr. Bluebeard! Dive! - Yo-ho, dive!

- Down periscope! - Down periscope.

Torpedo wakes off the port bow.

Prepare to fire bat charges in front of torpedoes when in range.

Faugh! That's too soon!

It must be bat charges.

And that means there'll be more of the dreaded things meant for us!

You dismal bird! You and your submarine! Where's it got us now?

Shut up, you feline floozy!

Mr. Bluebeard, down 30 fathoms!

Run silent, run deep.

They're diving. Engines being switched to silent.

We'll circle them at full-thrust bat speed...

- diminishing radius of curvature. - Roger.

- Mr. Quetch, what's their bearing? - I don't know, sir.

- What? You don't know? - It's changing every second.

They must be circling us.

Fire when ready, Robin.

I'll maintain curvature.

Yo-ho!

Compartments "A," "B" and "C" taking green water, sir.

Penguin! Penguin, you know I can't take water!

Oh, you cowardly kitten! Do you want to live forever?

This bird has flown around the bend.

To cuckoo-land!

Oh, Riddler, Joker, do something!

We weren't meant for a watery grave! Do something!

Now hear this! Now hear this!

Blow all tanks! Surface! Surface!

All right, Robin. Cut the bat charges.

They've had about enough, I imagine.

You're right. They're surfacing fast.

- Estimated surfacing position? - 200 yards.

Here they come.

Diminishing speed. Ready to board.

Roger.

Pirates, to arms!

Prepare to repel boarders!

Strike your colors, Penguin.

Faugh! We have not yet begun to fight! Attack!

Bon voyage, pussy.

Holy heartbreak! Miss Kitka!

Batman, I—

Say no more, Robin. It could be... compromising.

Of course.

It's just... one of those things...

in the life of every crime fighter.

It means nothing. Snap on the bat cuffs.

Batman to Coast Guard. Batman to Coast Guard.

There is a drifting submarine two miles east of Sandy Nose Lightship.

It's filled with human jetsam.

Come. Take it in tow.

Robin, over here. Look.

The hope of the entire world, tottering on the brink.

Holy almost.

To think it might have been shattered before our very eyes.

- Up with you, Catwoman. - The service on this yacht has gone to pot.

Where's my tea? And— What the devil is this, the captain's costume party?

Holy jumble! Where's the hope of the world now?

Bat centrifuge at 32,000 RPMs.

Increase angstrom force in vector "X."

Vector "X" up one notch.

- Yes, Commissioner? - What progress, Batman? Is there hope?

There's always hope. You should know that, sir.

Of course, of course. But... do you think you and the Boy Wonder...

can separate that mingled dust back into its constituent members?

With all modesty, Commissioner...

if we can't, heaven knows who can.

Truer words were never spoken.

Howdy, y'all. How are those boys doin' up there?

Batman says there's hope, Mr. President. What more can one ask?

The whole free world is waitin'.

Tell Batman I salute him and wish him luck.

I needn't tell you, ladies and gentlemen, with whom I have just spoken.

Ready for separation.

All right then. I'll activate the computer link...

feed in the various ethnic and national factors.

- Batman, wait a minute. - What?

Well, with the way the world is and all...

don't you think maybe we ought to try to improve those factors...

kind of reshuffle them a little?

No, Robin. No.

It's not for mortals like us to tamper with the laws of nature.

Indeed, in this very Batcave, you saw a ghastly example...

of what happens when one tries to do that.

Gosh, yes, Batman. When you put it that way-

Here we go.

Yes?

Separation accomplished. Ready to rehydrate.

Separation accomplished.

They are ready to rehydrate.

We are ready to rehydrate.

They are ready to rehydrate.

A solemn moment, gentlemen.

One of dedication and humble supplication.

Robin...

prepare to rehydrate.

Ready to rehydrate.

Turn on the water faucet.

Success! Success!

They've done it! They've done it!

Success! Success! We've done it! We've done it!

Success! Success!

What the-

Gentlemen, in the interest of peace, you must hear me out. You must—

Gentlemen, gentlemen, it is absolutely imperative...

that we limit our conversation to peace.

Écoutez. Écoutez, s'il vous plaît.

Who knows, Robin?

This strange mixing of minds...

may be the greatest single service ever performed for humanity.

Let's go. But inconspicuously.

Through the window. We'll use our bat ropes.

Our job is finished.