03x05 - A Horse of Another Color

[bunniefuu]

NARRATOR: Daybreak
at Gotham City Library...

where Penguin has just purloined a
priceless folio of famous umbrellas.

Ha, ha, ha. I know where to
dispose of you for a good price.

Then Lulu and I are off
to the races. Ha, ha, ha.

- Caught with the goods, eh, Penguin?
- Faugh, how did you get unglued?

- Hand over that folio, you feathered felon.
- And come quietly.

Oh, I always knew I'd
come to the end of the road.

[LAUGHS]

Holy diversionary tactic.

I'll have my men
pick him up in a jiffy.

- No.
- No?

Since we didn't apprehend him in this
office and he got away with the folio...

let's let him play out his hand.
I suspect that this robbery...

is only part of a
much bigger caper.

Escaped? With the folio?

- Hello, Ms. Gordon.
- Hello, Batman, Robin, Chief O'Hara.

And last but not least...

I told you we can handle this.
You needn't have gotten up so early.

Well, it was almost time to open anyway,
Daddy. Who was it? The Penguin again?

Yes, and that slimy bird
slipped right through our fingers.

I guess I better
phone Bruce Wayne.

As head of the library's board of trustees,
he'd be upset at the loss of a rare item.

You needn't bother Mr. Wayne
needlessly, Ms. Gordon.

- Needlessly? That folio is invaluable.
- I'll have that folio back within an hour.

I suspected he might make this
move and I prepared a counter one.

Today is the day of the Bruce
Wayne Foundation Handicap...

at Gotham Park Racetrack.

I'm sure Mr. Wayne has many
other important things on his mind.

Well, Robin, to the Batcave.

Lulu, that's magnificent.

That is the sharpest-looking horse of
another color I've ever seen in my life.

At least nobody
will recognize him.

But I do hope nobody recognizes
that the horse from the glue factory...

in Parasol's stall is a phony.

By the time they do, the
race will be over. Ha, ha, ha.

What about the track
officials, the jockey?

Wally Bootmaker is
supposed to ride Parasol.

He's not blind.

Don't worry about
Wally Bootmaker.

My two finks will take care
of him when they get back.

[PHONE RINGING]

Well, here we are.
Business as usual, huh?

Penguin's Bookshop.

Hello, Sammy.

Iron Marshmallow
in the big race.

No, listen, I got a tip
it's gonna be scratched.

Matter of fact, I got a tip that all but
two of the horses are gonna be scratched.

Parasol and a late entry by
the name of Bumbershoot.

But the big bet,
Sammy, is Parasol.

All right, I'll take it, but pay
cash, Sammy. Ha, ha, ha.

What do you mean, all but
two horses will be scratched?

- "Scratched" means withdrawn from the race.
- I know what it means.

- But what do you mean, Pengy?
- I got a plan.

I hope so. But why did you tell him to
bet on Parasol and not on Bumbershoot?

Because the more money that's bet on
that phony nag, which is bound to lose...

the more money we'll make
because the odds will be higher.

All I have to do is to unload this
folio there and get some money to bet.

- What's that, the racing news?
- No, this is the Saturday review of folios.

All the rich collectors
and advertisers.

Wait a minute.

This sounds like a pigeon.

"Wanted. For
private collections.

Priceless folios of all famous
articles, particularly parasols.

Will pay top prices.
Mr. A. L. Fredd."

The Gotham West Hotel.

That's a very,
very wealthy hotel.

I'll just call. I'm sure that our 10
grand is gonna be in the feed bag, Lulu.

It's not Lulu. It's
Lola Lasagne.

Well, have it your way.

Lasagne, macaroni, whatever.

Hello, will you give me Mr. A.L.
Fredd? It's the Penguin Bookshop for him.

Heh.

Hello, Mr. A.L. Fredd?

Yes, this is A.L. Fredd.

- Should we take this up with the Batcomputer?
- Take what up?

The location of Penguin's
hideout, for one thing.

It's a little bookmaking
shop on Fleece Street.

I did a little extracurricular crime-detecting
while d*ck Grayson did his homework.

And also found out you're gonna
have that folio back in an hour?

I still want Penguin to
play out his hand, Robin.

And I believe you'll find that the priceless
folio is upstairs in Bruce Wayne's study.

I just came in, Ms. Gordon.

I don't know if
Mr. Wayne is here or...

Oh, he just walked in.
One moment, please.

It's Ms. Gordon
from the library, sir.

And there's the priceless folio.

A steal at $10,000.

Hello, Ms. Gordon.

Oh, Mr. Wayne, I'm glad I finally reached
you. I've been trying for over an hour.

d*ck and I were out taking
our usual early constitutional.

Apparently Alfred didn't hear the telephone.
What can I do for you, Ms. Gordon?

Well, completely against Batman's
suggestion and my father's advice...

I thought you should know.

The priceless folio of famous
parasols we keep in a locked case...

was stolen earlier this morning.

Yes, by the Penguin.

He apparently made his entrance
with some sort of passkey...

and his exit through a window by
using his umbrella as a parachute.

A man of many talents.

You're not upset at such a loss?

I'm not upset, Ms. Gordon,
because the priceless folio...

is, at this very moment,
on the desk in front of me.

One second, please.

Yes, Alfred tells me that Batman returned
it just a few minutes ago, Ms. Gordon.

Oh, well, that's incredible. Batman said
he'd have it back within an hour, but...

You didn't believe him?

Well, I'm afraid I'm still naive enough
to believe the impossible can't be done.

I guess I owe Batman an apology.

A word of thanks should
do at the proper time.

I'll see that the folio is
returned to the library shortly.

- Goodbye, Ms. Gordon.
- Goodbye.

Good work, Mr. Fredd.

I feel we're one
step closer, d*ck.

One step closer?

When you're now out $10,000
to that pompous purloiner?

"Patient men win the day,"
an apt quotation from Chaucer.

Apt maybe, but I doubt if Chaucer
had run into Penguin when he wrote it.

NARRATOR: While back
with the baleful bookie...

Those freeways are m*rder, boss.

No explanations, no
excuses, and you shut up.

I wanna see what the
radio has to say about this.

Priceless folio of
famous parasols...

stolen this morning from the Gotham
Library has been recovered by Batman...

and returned to Bruce Wayne,
chairman of the board of directors.

Any further details are lacking at
this time, but Commissioner Gordon...

Returned already.
Quadruple faugh.

She is gonna pay for this.

Who's she?

Ms. Gordon, that's who. She
works at the library, doesn't she?

She knows that
that folio was stolen.

She also happens to know Bruce
Wayne, who knows Batman...

who just might know A.L. Fredd.

We got the 10 grand, Pengy.
Why ruffle your feathers?

Because I smell a deep
and dire plot in all this.

But Ms. Gordon is going to
smell something even worse.

- What's that? Another radio?
- No, a little toy...

- for the police commissioner's daughter.
- Does it walk?

Of course it walks.

And as it walks a little while,
it throws out a deadly gas...

on anybody who toys with it.

Pengy, all we wanna
do is win a horse race.

We don't wanna k*ll anyone.

She spurned me, didn't she? Well,
she's not gonna get a second chance.

Take this over to the police
commissioner's daughter.

- Tell her it's a gift from an admirer.
- Okay, boss.

Visor, you go to the racetrack and
you get rid of this Wally Bootmaker.

- I don't care how, just get rid of him.
- Right, Penguin.

We'll follow with
our dark horse.

And while I am making the entries, I want
you to get rid of all the other horses.

Me? How?

Well, it's simple enough. They know
you there. Just apply plenty of this.

Ha, ha, ha.

NARRATOR: Meanwhile
at Gotham Park Racetrack...

the racing secretary has some startling
news for millionaire Bruce Wayne.

Every horse except
Parasol has been scratched?

That's right, Mr. Wayne.

And Wally Bootmaker
has disappeared.

And there's someone here with a
last-minute entry called Bumbershoot.

Yes, he's in my office now.

Well, he has his entry fee.

- Says he's the owner-trainer.
- And jockey.

What does he look like?

Confidentially,
he's a bit of a bird.

[HORSE NEIGHING]

[PENGUIN LAUGHS]

Let him enter Bumbershoot.

I'll get another
jockey to ride Parasol.

And there will be another last-minute
entry from the Bruce Wayne Stables.

But don't say
anything about it yet.

Just as I thought. Penguin has not only
overplayed his hand, he's tipped his mitt.

Somehow he's managed to switch horses
and put the big money on the wrong horse.

Probably that goat
from the glue factory.

But what's this about another
last-minute entry from Wayne Stables?

Waynebeau, my new 3-year-old, should
win it. I didn't wanna enter him earlier.

I didn't want it to appear as if I
were setting up own my horse...

to win the Bruce Wayne
Foundation Handicap.

Now, about jockeys...

Bruce, let me ride
Waynebeau. I'm light enough.

No, d*ck, I couldn't allow my own
ward to ride my own thoroughbred.

- People might think it was funny.
- Hm.

But you can ride the fake
Parasol and try to win it.

But if I did win, wouldn't
that upset all your plans?

No, I'll get another jockey
to ride the other horse.

Who?

Well...

No, I wouldn't even
know where to look for her.

- Her?
- Batgirl.

Gosh, yes, she'd be great.

On our side and all.

And all, d*ck.

But who is she and where is she?

I wouldn't know how
to go about finding her.

So a short time later, Barbara
Gordon receives several surprises.

A little toy penguin.
Oh, what a cute gadget.

And look, it winds up.

Oh, be careful, Myrtle.

Oh, be careful of a
darling little thing like this?

Whoa!

[COUGHING]

Myrtle? Myrtle!

NARRATOR: And while Penguin's
pusillanimous plot proceeds...

Barbara gets a second surprise.

Oh, thank you.

- Myrtle, are you all right?
- I think so.

I only got a little whiff of that
smoke, but it certainly made me dizzy.

You should lie down in
the lounge. I'll help you.

Never mind,
Barbara, I can make it.

These diabolical
tricks must be stopped.

- I'm gonna call my father.
- Oh, one moment.

I think this toy penguin has probably
breathed its last poisonous breath.

And it's just possible that
a certain live Penguin...

may be rendered equally useless.

Can we have a word together?

NARRATOR: And
speaking of words...

This is a farce, Mr. Wayne.

An unknown jockey on
the horse that's the favorite?

An unknown horse with
that birdman on board.

And your own entry, which even the
touts and tipsters haven't heard about yet.

I demand that the Wayne
Foundation Memorial Handicap...

- be canceled this afternoon.
- Oh, you do?

Yes, as racing secretary of this meet, I
have a duty to owners, trainers, officials...

and track fans and myself.

Why, if there were any logical
explanation for such a travesty...

if Batman, for instance, told
me that this race must be run...

for a particular reason,
well, that might be different.

But just to satisfy a stubborn
whim of your own, Mr. Wayne...

as honorable a man
as I know you are...

And suppose Batman did tell
you that the race must be run?

I would have to hear
it from him in person.

Hm. A very capable
man, the racing secretary.

Remind me to give him a bonus,
Alfred. You say you talked to Batgirl.

I did manage to convey
your message, sir, yes.

Yes, would you convey a
change of Bruce Wayne's clothing...

- to the governor's suite at the Turf Club?
- Yes, sir.

While Batman conveys a
message to the racing secretary.

While an excited crowd awaits the running
of the Wayne Foundation Memorial Handicap...

the racing secretary hears
from Batman in person.

This race must be run.
When it's over, I'll tell you why.

And I'm sure Mr. Wayne himself
will make a public announcement.

Very well, Batman. I still think it's a
farce, but I'll bow to your judgment.

NARRATOR: And Lola
Lasagne meets her new jockey.

I wish you were Spanish.

[SPEAKS IN SPANISH]

Oh, you are Spanish.
Do you speak Spanish?

[SPEAKS IN SPANISH]

Good, it's nice to have a
Spanish-speaking jockey...

on a Spanish-speaking
horse. Ha, ha.

[SPEAKS IN SPANISH]

NARRATOR: And
Penguin smells a rat.

That jockey, you know who he looks
like? d*ck Grayson, Bruce Wayne's ward.

What would d*ck Grayson be
doing as a saddle monkey, boss?

One thing he'll be doing soon
is eating my dust. Ha, ha, ha.

Be a good girl, Parasol.

You know who that kid is up
on that phony nag of yours?

A darling Spanish boy.

I'm so glad you h*jacked
Wally Bootmaker.

He might have smelled a mouse.

I smell a mousetrap.

Did you put the bet
down on Bumbershoot?

I still have 10 minutes.

Faugh, get going.

Meet me outside the jockey
room right after the race.

All right, ready?

Never mind, I
got it. Ha, ha, ha.

ANNOUNCER: The horses
are coming on the track...

with the $100,000 Wayne
Foundation Memorial Handicap.

One mile and one furlong.

[HORN TOOTING]

NARRATOR: But as the horses
come out on the track, what's this?

Waynebeau making
his surprise appearance.

With a very surprising
saddle monkey aboard.

Who's that riding your horse,
Waynebeau, Mr. Wayne?

It looks like...

It is.

That new crime-fighter I've
heard something about, Batgirl.

[PENGUIN SQUAWKING]

Why, this is getting more
farcical by the moment.

Let's just say there's
a touch of irony in it.

Well, Commissioner Gordon,
Chief O'Hara, won't you join us?

Batman called me. He said something very
interesting might turn up here this afternoon...

so, Chief O'Hara and
I better be on our toes.

Good idea.

Come on, chief.

What is that third
horse doing down there?

A very late entry, madam.

I believe he's called Waynebeau.

Well, that looks
like a girl riding it.

Doesn't it, though?

- I better go make my bet.
- Yeah.

ANNOUNCER: It is now post time.

I want one $10,000 ticket
on number two, please.

ANNOUNCER: Bumbershoot is not steady yet,
not straight. They're waiting on Bumbershoot.

He stretches. The flag is up.

[BELL RINGING]

There they go.

Parasol is moving
to the front...

Bumbershoot is second,
Waynebeau is third.

Coming down the stretch the first
time, it's Parasol in front by two lengths.

Bumbershoot is second,
two and a half lengths.

Waynebeau on the inside.

Passing the stand
the first time...

it's Parasol in front by
two and a half lengths.

Bumbershoot is second
by two lengths on the inside.

Waynebeau looking for racing room.
There goes Waynebeau up on the inside.

And Bumbershoot moves out.

Around the clubhouse turn, it's
Bumbershoot on the outside in front...

and Waynebeau has moved
up, but is in tight quarters.

And on the rail, Parasol.

Into the back stretch, it's Bumbershoot
coming clear by four lengths.

On the inside, Parasol
and Waynebeau.

It's Bumbershoot in
front by two lengths...

and Parasol second and
Waynebeau coming out.

Here comes Waynebeau moving to the
outside. And Waynebeau on the outside.

Here comes Waynebeau to Bumbershoot.
It's Bumbershoot still in front.

Holding on, on the outside,
Waynebeau, and Parasol is third.

At the half mile, here's
Bumbershoot in front.

Now here comes Waynebeau on the
outside, is now coming in, taking the lead.

It's Waynebeau on the outside. Parasol
moving on the inside, but can't find room.

It's Waynebeau.
Waynebeau coming clear.

Bumbershoot is second,
Parasol is far behind.

It's Waynebeau in front,
Waynebeau on the inside...

and Bumbershoot again trying
to challenge. Parasol is third.

Waynebeau is looking for room,
comes on out and comes to the leader.

It's Waynebeau coming clear.

It's Waynebeau now in front by
one and Parasol is on the outside.

It's Waynebeau. And now
Bumbershoot again. Waynebeau.

And Waynebeau is flying.

There goes
Waynebeau flying away.

Waynebeau wins it easily.

Bumbershoot is
second, Parasol is third.

[ANNOUNCER SQUAWKING]

ANNOUNCER: Hold your
tickets. Please, hold all tickets...

until the result of the race
has been declared official.

My word.

You may have a good-sized
riot on your hands, Mr. Wayne.

Almost everyone bet on Parasol.

Batman better have a
good explanation too.

I'm sure he will.

It's a very dark day for racing
in Gotham City, Mr. Wayne.

Mr. Wayne?

Mr. Wayne?

[SQUAWKING]

I'll change, then we
better make tracks.

Why? We haven't
done anything wrong.

We haven't done anything
right. We just lost 10 grand.

And the paint is running
faster than the horse did.

You can't go in there.
You're a woman.

No need to change
clothes, Penguin.

They'll issue you a nice striped
wardrobe where you're going.

Faugh. Armband,
Visor, bridle that filly.

Help, reserves! Reserves!

Your odds haven't been too
good this afternoon, Penguin.

But five men against
one girl is ridiculous.

Oh, I'm enjoying
this. Don't bother.

No bother to return the many
favors you've done for us, Batgirl.

Mash them!

Well, Penguin, looks like
your perfidious prank is up.

Perfidious? Faugh, I admit I fixed the
race, but I fixed it so the best horse won.

Regardless of that, I'm sure
that the results of the Handicap...

will be declared
permanently unofficial.

And you'll be declared
permanently incarcerated.

- You too, Lulu Schultz.
- Lulu Schultz?

- I am Senora Lola Lasagne.
- Lasa... Ha, ha.

In a penguin's tail
feather. Ha, ha, ha.

- All right, come on, come on, let's go.
- You too.

Oh, yeah, thataway.

Batgirl, she's gone again.

Like spray.

Like a cloud.

Like lightning.

We should try to find
her and thank her.

Mere thanks are
empty words, Robin.

Whoever she is, wherever
she goes, whatever she's after...

I think we'll be
seeing more of her.

A little dusty, Barbara?

Oh, hi, Daddy.

I was just trying to spruce up the
Egyptology section of the library...

but the sands of time seemed
to have pretty well buried it.

I was going to call you at your
office, but I haven't had time.

I haven't been at the
office, I've been at the races.

Races? The police commissioner?

All in the line of duty,
Barbara, and it paid off.

The Penguin and a female cohort
tried to fix the Bruce Wayne Handicap...

but we fixed them.

So to celebrate, I thought I would take my
favorite librarian out on the town tonight.

Your favorite librarian would love
it. Just let me freshen up a little bit.

[GASPS]

What's the matter? King Tut.

I didn't expect to turn up a
pharaoh in here. Where did he go?

Well, you can never tell about King
Tut, my dear, but I better alert Batman.

You mean, a real arch-criminal
has turned up here in the library?

Well, part of him anyway.
He's a split personality.

A modern-day Yale
professor some of the time.

And the rest of the time?

A reincarnated Egyptian despot.

Old as the pyramids,
wise as the sphinx.

- Oh, he sounds fascinating.
- Uh-uh.

No, darling, not fascinating.

He is fiendishly evil, the
most dangerous kind of fraud.

I better get word
to the dynamic duo.

NARRATOR: So, King Tut has
returned, but for what evil purpose?

With what nefarious scheme?

And what is he
doing in this library?

Watch the next episode
for the awesome answer.