02x32 - The Duo Is Slumming

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Batman". Aired: January 12, 1966 – March 14, 1968.*
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Series follows on Batman and Robin as they defend Gotham City from its various criminals.
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02x32 - The Duo Is Slumming

Post by bunniefuu »

When we last saw
the Dynamic Duo...

The Puzzler had lashed them in
the basket of an aerial balloon...

which would automatically be
released and plunge them to their doom...

when they reached 20,000 feet.

How high are they now?

In a moment, we shall see.

Gosh, Batman, the altimeter
reading is 19,000 feet.

Oh. Another thousand and
the releasing mechanism...

will drop us like two
eggs from a heavenly hen.

Yes, it looks hopeless, Robin.

- Unless...
- Unless?

Unless that discarded
piece of chewing gum...

- that Puzzler's henchman threw in here...
- Chewing gum?

Altimeters work like
barometers, Robin...

but with the principle
of air pressure.

If you could place the
chewing gum over the air hole...

I see. The pressure will stop and
the reading will stay under 20,000.

- Correct.
- I'll try to get it.

Try, Robin.

- Try, Robin.
- I think I've got it.

I've got it.

Hurry, Robin, we
haven't much time.

Right.

Be sure to cover it completely.

Ah.

Just under 20,000.

That was a close call, Robin.

This will teach that
crook to be a litterbug.

He should put trash in a
proper waste container.

Yes.

But, gosh, now how
do we get down?

Holy stratosphere,
if we were only birds.

- That's it, Robin.
- What?

We do have a chance.

It seems to me that
I read in the paper...

that the elusive and high-flying,
giant, red-eyed hermit nuthatch birds...

are migrating
south for the winter.

Batman, look.

Coming this way.

Robin, those bird calls that you
were practicing this morning...

do you have an elusive, high-flying,
giant, red-eyed hermit nuthatch bird...

in your repertoire?

Holy Audubon, Batman, I
didn't get to that species yet.

Couldn't you improvise?

That bird, by nature,
is a very hostile bird.

If you can infuriate him,
perhaps he'll att*ck the balloon.

I get it. One or two holes in the balloon
and we float smoothly down to earth.

I'll sure try.

Good boy, Robin, it's working.

He did it, Batman.

Yes, he did it.

He's flying off now.

He's had enough hot air.

Farewell, feathered friend.

Sorry to have
disrupted your vacation.

We're dropping a lot
faster than we went up.

The power of gravity, Robin.

Not even Puzzler
could prevent that.

Holy cr*ck-up.

I think we can expect a
reasonably soft landing.

Talk about soft landings.

Yes, it was a good one.

Any idea where we are?

Judging from the terrain and
the direction the wind carried us...

I'd say upstate of Gotham City.

I'd say upstate from nowhere.

No, our luck seems to
be holding out, old chum.

Look, as if we
ordered it specially.

We can thank the taxpayer
and Governor Stonefellow...

for this emergency
public telephone.

Now to get out of these bonds.

Yes, these jewels are lovely...

but they're not a drop in the bucket
compared with what we are really after.

The Retsoor is
worth a king's ransom.

Now, Rocket, you know
what you have to do.

But this time, please,
please be expressive.

Ooh. What girl wouldn't be with a
bultimillionaire like Artemus Knab...

who controls just about everything
and might make her a movie star?

Might make me a movie star.

Nothing can stop
us now, Puzzler.

Oh, nothing. Not even
the late Dynamic Duo.

By my calculation...

they should have dropped
20,000 feet from the balloon by now.

Not yet, Puzzler.

But you're... You're dead.

How puzzling. What on
earth could have happened?

We'll explain that later,
Puzzler, but right now...

Escape plan number three.

Let the heavens open.

Oh, imagine me...

little old Rocket O'Rourke having
tea with a great big tycoon like you...

Arty, baby. Oh, let me pour.

I have oodles of talent
for pouring tea too.

Yes. Well, I would say that you're a
very well-rounded young lady, heh...

with, uh, considerable
well-rounded talent.

- Oh, flatterer.
- Ha-ha-ha-ha.

Well, cheers.

Oh, yeah. This is
a very delicate tea.

It's from my own
blend of oolong.

You see, I have a tea
monopoly. Play. Monopol...

Monopoly...

Phew.

Bravo, Rocket, bravo.

Well, it worked, Puzzler.

But I almost wish it hadn't.
He promised me a screen test.

Oh, these juggling fiends that
keep the word of promise to our ear...

and break it to our
hope. Uh, Macbeth.

I did my job, Puzzler.
Now you do yours.

A-okay, Rocket. Onto the deed.

Do you know the combination?

I haven't been watching every move of
Artemus Knab's for the past two weeks...

for nothing.

Yes, by the pricking of my thumbs,
something wicked this way comes.

Open locks, whoever knocks!

Voilà.

The camera.

Ah. Excellent. Excellent.

Well, what I don't
understand, Puzzler...

is if you've already taken pictures of
the cockpit, why do you need more?

Those pictures of the plane's control panels,
plus these pictures of the plane's plans...

will teach me everything I need
to know about flying the Retsoor.

Yeah.

But I don't think it will help my
acting career any when he finds out.

The envelope.

Don't you think you've left
enough clues for today, Puzzler?

A crime is nothing without
a modus operandi, Rocket.

- The envelope.
- Tsk.

This, plus another little
scheme I have in the works...

should certainly make the Dynamic
Duo put on their thinking caps.

Careful.

I don't hear any ticking.

But it could be dangerous.

Stand back, everybody.

Mother Machree, a rooster!

Well, I've had some strange birds in my
office in my time, but this is going too far.

"Batman, how canst thou keep a
rooster from crowing on a Sabbath morn?"

- By k*lling him on a Saturday night.
- Tonight is Saturday night.

Yes. And I tremble to think of what might occur
if we don't piece this cunning puzzle together.

Commissioner, have you
spoken with Artemus Knab?

I haven't been
able to reach him.

But the desk clerk at the Gotham
Arms tells me he hasn't left his penthouse.

We were thinking of
sending a man over to check.

Wait. There's a specific reason why
Puzzler wanted to be in business with Knab.

Perhaps Knab can
provide us with a clue.

I suspect this calls for one
of our unnoticed arrivals.

- Ready for another Bat-climb, Robin?
- You bet, Batman.

What's wrong, Robin?

Tired? Dizzy?

I had a strange feeling, Batman.

As if... As if visions of sugarplums
were dancing in my head.

They should be, Boy Wonder,
it's almost Christmas. Ho-ho-ho-ho.

Welcome to Gotham
City, Mr. Claus.

Why, call me Santa Claus,
Batman. Everybody else does.

Say, you tell me where the Batcave is and
I'll leave a little present in your stocking.

If you can't trust Santa,
whom can you trust?

We can't tell you
here, Mr. Claus...

but we'll telephone you at the
North Pole on the Batphone.

Good, good.

I'll get to the Batcave...

if I have to slide down a
Batpole instead of a chimney.

Merry Christmas. Ho-ho-ho-ho.

- Merry Christmas, Santa.
- Merry Christmas, Santa.

Ho-ho-ho.

And say hello to those
eight reindeer for us.

I will, I will.

Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas, everybody.

Another unannounced
intrusion, Batman?

We didn't want to attract
undue attention, Mr. Knab.

We did suspect that
you might be in trouble.

Trouble? You mean out cold.

Some aspiring actress apparently decided
that the best way to further her career...

was to slip a
mickey in my oolong.

Strange thinking.

Do you have any reason
to believe that she might...

be associated with Puzzler?

From what I hear of his antics
after I launched the Retsoor...

I wouldn't put
anything past Puzzler.

Including that note addressed
to me and pinned to your lapel?

What?

Why, the scoundrel!

I tried to warn you, Mr. Knab.

You did indeed, young man,
and I was foolish not to listen.

Holy ghost writer.
There's nothing on it.

Why would he use a pretty girl to drug
me to leave a blank piece of paper for you?

There are more things in
heaven and earth, Artemus...

that are dreamt of
in your philosophy.

That's a quote from...

I know. Hamlet.

Yes. Well, I can do without any
further lines from Shakespeare, Batman.

Understandable. Now, this
apparently blank piece of paper...

seems to have a slight
odor of secret writing on it.

Of course. I've heard it's
one of Puzzler's favorite tricks.

What else have you
heard, Boy Wonder?

Any reason why he would
be trying to fleece me?

We don't have the answer to that now,
Mr. Knab, but we hope to know shortly.

If you'll excuse us. We'll take this piece
of paper back to the Batcave and analyze it.

- I'll come with you.
- Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Knab.

The location of the Batcave must
remain Robin's and my secret alone.

Godspeed.

Look, the invisible
ink is appearing.

- "P-U-Z-Z-L-E-S."
- Puzzles?

Strange. Nothing more.

What could it mean?

"Puzzles" has seven letters.

What comes in sevens, Robin?

- Seven-league boots...
- Mm.

- Seven seas...
- Hm.

The dance of the seven veils.

It must be something connected
with his trying to tell us something.

The telephone.

The telephone.

The average modern telephone
number consists of seven digits.

Oh. Then matching the digits
to the letters, P-U-Z-Z-L-E-S...

would be seven, eight...

It doesn't work. There
isn't any Z on the dial.

Obviously. That's the puzzle.

Z is the most enigmatic
letter in the alphabet, old chum.

Think of the words
that begin with Z.

Zigzag, zither, zodiac.

- Zounds.
- Exactly.

Zounds is a Shakespearean
interjection of wonder or surprise.

Apparently, Puzzler expects
this puzzle to catch us unprepared.

Oh, which it has.

No, Robin.

Not entirely.

There is a
Shakespearean quotation...

I suspect must be uppermost
in Puzzler's mind at this time...

and which I find
quite appropriate.

There is a divinity in odd numbers,
either in nativity, chance, or death.

The Merry Wives of Windsor
Act 3, Scene 4, Line 22.

Why are odd numbers
so appropriate?

Some combination of them in
the phone dial must be his number.

But we know his hideout is
in that Globe Balloon Factory.

No, I doubt if we could
reach him there again, so...

Divinity in odd numbers.

If you can work this,
Batman, there must be.

Whew... What a
groovy jumpsuit, Puzzler.

One must keep up with
the Space Age, Rocket.

This is the perfect garb
for flying the Retsoor.

Now, hurry, boys, the clock
abrades me with the waste of time.

Speak, knave.

Puzzler, this is Batman.

As I suspected, Caped Crusader.

I'd like to exchange quotations
with you, but time is money.

So I'll just leave
you with this thought:

An aviator was carrying his clothes home
from the cleaners when it began to rain.

How didst he protect them?

Holy miracles, Batman. You
got his number on your first try.

Now, an aviator was carrying his
clothes home from the cleaners...

when it began to rain.
Gosh, that's a tough one.

Yes. First, a puzzle dealing
with roosters and now this.

Looks like we're
flying blind, Batman.

Flying. Flying?

Don't you know how the aviator
protected the clothes he was carrying?

He put them inside the hangars.

Hangar. That can only mean...

Artemus Knab's
airplane, Retsoor.

Rooster spelled backwards.

And this scheme could've
been under our noses all the time.

To the Batmobile.

Meanwhile, back in
the abandoned shed...

the Puzzler has set up
a magic lantern show.

Considering the haste with which
I made these microfilm photos...

of Artemus Knab's secret plans, I'd
say the photography is not too bad.

You're a genius, chief.

Oh, no time for
accolades, Ramjet.

Now that I've solved all of Retsoor's secrets,
flying her should be a soft and gentle breeze.

The plane's fueled up and ready to
go, but they left two guards in front.

Fret not, Blimpy, they don't
even know we've found this shed...

or that it connects
with the hangar.

Rocket, go outside and
create your usual diversion.

Oh. Sure thing, Puzzler.

Mm...

Six million dollars'
worth of machinery.

And we make the k*lling tonight.

How unbearably scrumptious.

Gonna sell it to a
foreign government?

Have you taken leave
of your senses, Glider?

I may be an archvillain...

but I'm a 100-percent
naturalized American archvillain.

No one gets his hands on that
plane except Artemus Knab...

after he's, uh, paid
me a small ransom...

of, say, um, $4 million.

Parting is such sweet sorrow.

My heart is always heavy when
a caper finally comes to an end...

but end it must.

All right, men, to my work.

Follow me.

Her beauty makes this vault
a feasting presence full of light.

- But where are we going?
- To some neutral country...

from which I can negotiate
with Artemus Knab.

- Do we need passports and stuff?
- The Retsoor is all the passport we need.

Ah. ROCKET: Heh-heh-heh.

Boy, I should get an
Academy Award for that act.

I just told the guards that I
ran out of gas down the road...

and I left two of
my girlfriends in it.

Then the guards are gone?

Like the wind.

I told them my girlfriends
were cold and lonely.

Good thinking, Rocket.

Blimpy, open the hangar door.

Aboard, aboard.

My puzzles have done
a lot of outpuzzling.

But this is the first time I've outpuzzled
an airplane's control panel puzzle.

Egad, what was
that? Where's Blimpy?

It is shut again.

Hm?

Yes, Puzzler, shut again.

And will remain shut until you and your
high-flying flunkies are floored forever.

Cleverer than I thought, Caped Crusaders,
but I still mean to launch the Retsoor.

You mean hijack it.

A mere matter of
semantics, Boy Wonder.

Lights, camera, action.

Zounds.

No, Puzzler.

Leaving out the semantics,
you're about to be launched...

off to prison.

I suspect the authorities
should be arriving shortly.

Your suspicion is correct, Batman.
Good thing you called from the Batmobile.

We'd have been here sooner,
but Grand Avenue is all torn up.

May I present the infamous
Puzzler, gentlemen.

He's in your charge
now, also this young lady.

But all I ever wanted
to be was a movie star.

Opportunities like that don't come
often, Miss O'Rourke, and must be earned.

Something is rotten in
the state of Denmark.

Too many puzzles. Is
that what did it, Batman?

One too many. Quantity
finally exceeded quality, Puzzler.

And all those quotes of
Shakespeare didn't help either.

My soul is full of
discord and dismay.

- Hamlet.
- Act 4.

- Scene 1.
- Line 46.

Forty-five.

Egad, sir, you're right.

Well...

What's going on here?

Bruce and d*ck, aren't these the
cutest puzzle balloons you've ever seen?

Yes, they're very unusual.

Some balloon factory
was going out of business...

and Alfred was able to
get the exact ones I need...

for a party I'm giving for
underprivileged children.

My pleasure, madam.

They really are quite
a novelty, aren't they?

Verily, Aunt Harriet,
quite a novelty.

- Well, all's well that...
- That ends well, sir?

Well...
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