01x08 - Episode 8

[bunniefuu]

- Blue Ribbon Content presents

"Batman: The Audio Adventures."

- ♪ Every time it rains,
it rains pennies from heaven ♪

♪ Shooby dooby ♪

♪ Alfred brings the supper down
at a quarter to 7:00 ♪

♪ Doo, doo, doo, doo-- ♪
Oh!

[sniffs]
That smells delicious, Alfred.

"You've outdone yourself."
Why, thank you, Master Bruce.

[chuckles] I mean,
it's simply lamb stock--

[electronic beep]
- Retinal scan complete.

- At last,
certainly took your--

- Input voice identification
code for Batcave access.

- Authorization Alfred one.

- Recognized.

- Marvelous,
this tray is heavy though,

so please be kind enough
to open--

[thud, dishes clatter]
- Access denied.

- I beg your pardon.

- Access denied.

- Let me in,
you ridiculous contrivance,

before Master Bruce's soup
gets cold!

It's difficult enough
getting him to eat without--

[electronic ding]
- When is a door not a door?

- What? Who changed
the voice interface protocol?

- When is a door not a door?

- [grumbles] Riddler.

- Incorrect.
When is a door not a door?

- Ugh. When it's ajar.

Every schoolboy knows that.

- Incorrect.
- What?

- Correct answer:
When is a door not a door?

When you can't get it open,
you imbecile.

Intruder alert.

Batcave antipersonnel
directives charging.

- Oh, well, the soup is
certainly going cold now.

[smooth music]

- Gotham, a city that spans
the full distance

between hell and high water.

Join us again for a tale

of "Life and Death
in Gotham City."

As Alfred has just learned,

the house he keeps is
under siege.

By distracting Batman
with a threat

of a catastrophic gas attack on
the Wayne Foundation building,

the nefarious Riddler was able

to trace Batman's
electronic signal

back to the Batcave.

From his remote location,

the obnoxious inquisitor now
has complete computer control

of the Batman's
hidden headquarters.

- Well, Batman, I'm really
all out of small talk with you,

and we still have minutes to go

until I calculate
your secret location.

No, don't you worry.

The trace is run,
run, run, run, running.

- Robin.
- He's system-wide, Batman!

- How to k*ll the time?

Do you have any games
on this thing?

- Restore perimeter security.

- No good, he is the Batcave
right now, Batman.

We couldn't turn on the radio
down here if he didn't want it.

- Oh, but I do.

Oh, that's a groovy idea,
Boy Wonder.

Let's see what's
in your music files

while we wait, Batman.

[electronic dance music]
Ew.

[classical music]
Blech.

[soft music]
Blech, no.

Batman, this is
the music collection of a dude

who does not get it.

- Batman, the system core!
- No time.

- Oh, oh, oh, oh, here we go,
perfect.

Maestro, a little
on hold music, please.

[light jazz music]

When I samba right
in your front door,

I'm so going to enjoy
watching the look

on the lower half of your face,
Batman.

- Just don't forget,

you'd better
watch your ears, Eddie.

- What?
What did you say, mumbles?

- I said,
Batmobile, jamming frequency!

[alarm blaring]

- Ahh!
- You forced him out!

- Briefly, that bought us


but at least I shut him up
for the moment.

[keys clacking]
- Whoa, good thinking, Batman.

- Riddler has full control
of the Batcave systems,

but the car has
an independent computer core.

He's compensating as we speak,
but I have a plan.

- Better be quick, Batman.

Riddler's trace is
still running.

He's almost found us.

- Riddler is mounting
his as*ault on the Batcave

from inside
the Wayne Foundation mainframe.

He thinks he's safe in there

because he's locked
Batman and Robin out.

But luckily for us,
Bruce Wayne is already inside.

- Of course!

You personally tweaked
the Wayne Foundation code,

but Riddler couldn't know that.

- Riddler won't expect
another user to log in

at this access point,
which I can do

using Bruce Wayne's
passwords and clearance.

- Wayne Foundation.
- Bruce Wayne.

- Authorized.

- Bruce Wayne will run
a background trace on Riddler

while Riddler is preoccupied
with Batman.

- But that'll take at least
a minute, Batman.

And he's nearly back in.

You'll need
to distract him for--

- Covering that now, Robin.

Just follow--

- [laughing]
Okay, you got me.

I forgot
about your tacky-a*s car.

[laughs]

You do know
where the car is concerned,

you're totally that guy, right?

But no worries,
I'm back in control,

and I almost have
your location.

- Robin, quickly,
encrypt these files, old chum.

- Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no,
no, you don't, Batman.

You think you got skills?

Girl, you don't know
about my skills.

Decryption opens the files.

Now then, let's see
what's so important.

Oh, nice.

- Too late, Robin.
We're too late.

- Oh, I see why you wanted
to keep this to yourself.

Oh, this file must be
a page turner.

Mm, fascinating.

The Batman's personal
case file dossiers

on all his colorful
adversaries.

Look at this list
of luminaries.

Well, there's Catwoman's file,
and Mr. Freeze,

and, aha, there I am.

Oh, I'm so very curious
what pedestrian insights

you've recorded
during our spirited rival.

What the--
- What's the matter, Riddler?

- My file, it's puny.


Oh, that can't be right.

- Yeah, I regret you have
to find out like this.

- It's like 1/5 the size
of the Joker's file.

- Well, Joker is A-list.

- Oh, you can eat my a*s,
caped crusader.

I'm A-list all day long.

That clown is a hack comedian
with a philosophy degree

from Gotham Community College!

- Not the general consensus

of law enforcement
professionals, Riddler.

Sorry.

- I...but look at Mad Hatter!

He's literally just a crazy guy

who wears a
[record skips] hat!

His file's twice the size
of mine!

- The truth is, you just don't
keep Gotham City up at night.

- That is a lie, a fat lie.

You're a pinhead liar,
is what you--wait a minute.

Wait a minute, this--this file
isn't even about me at all!

- That's right, Riddler.

While I was pretending
to encrypt the dossiers,

I swapped the names
on your file

with a two-bit nobody
named k*ller Moth.

- k*ller Croc?
- No, k*ller Moth.

- Who the hell is k*ller Moth!?

- He's an idiot,
but you just blundered

into my ego trap.

What does that make you?

- So childish,
you're an infant.

- I can always count on you

to judge a book by its cover,
Riddler,

especially when the cover has
your name on it.

Thanks, you gave me just
enough time.

[electronic chime]
- That is not possible.

There's no way you traced my--
- Have a look.

Now I'm in your mainframe,
Riddler.

I see you've got
a Cayman Islands account.

How original,

almost as original
as Riddler debuting

well after a very famous Joker.

- Oh, you didn't just--

honestly, how dare you?

Riddles and jokes are

fundamentally
different concepts.

- Let's drain those funds.

- Don't you do it.

[descending tones]
- It's done.

Now, you can keep running
your trace on the Batcave,

but I've moved on to deleting
your entire data cache,

all your puzzles,
all your riddles,

all your life's work.

It'll be gone by the time
you find me.

- No, no, that's my art,
you meat-headed clod!

- We have ourselves a game
of chicken, Riddler.

Bail out or lose everything.

[contemplative tones]

- Oh-h*-h*, curse you, Batman!

You win again!
[static]

- He withdrew!
We've got control back.

- Computer, restore
full security protocols.

Maximum encryption.

[electronic whirring]

- Wow, Batman.
That was entirely too close.

He almost got in!

- He did get in,
as far as I'm concerned.

Riddler's upped his game,
and what's worse,

I chipped at his brittle ego
without putting him down.

Look out.

He's going to be
increasingly desperate

to seize the attention
he craves.

- This book of riddles is
in its final chapter.

How will it end?

That is the final riddle

of "Life and Death
in Gotham City."

[carnival music]

- He's got a laughy-daffy nose.

[honking]

- He's got floppy-whopper feet.

[squeaking]

- He's got car payments,
people.

- Child support, take pity
on the poor schmuck.

- He's Blabbo
the birthday clown,

and none of the Joker stuff has
anything to do with him.

How many ways can we say that?
Well, here's one more.

Blabbo the birthday clown is
running a special promotion.

He's knocking on random doors,
and if he chooses your home,

you win a free party
with Blabbo.

- So if you see
an unfamiliar clown

poking around
your neighborhood,

don't call the police.

Let him in.
- It's probably just Blabbo.

- ♪ Blabbo the birthday clown ♪

♪ He's a disillusioned clown ♪

♪ He went to college
to be a clown ♪

♪ That used to count
for something ♪

- Blabbo the birthday clown,

the only thing
he'll k*ll is you!

With his antics.

There, that should fix things.
- I think so.

[smooth music]

- Gotham, deception is just
the tip of the iceberg.

Join us now for another tale

of "Life and Death
in Gotham City."

♪ ♪

February 12th.

Hours away from the start
of the Ice Age Gala,

and we rejoin our adventures
in a darkened vault

deep in the chilly bowels of
the Penguin's Iceberg Casino.

It is home
to a grotesque accumulation

of gilded treasures
and moth-eaten taxidermy,

the precious hoarded trash
of a pampered fiend.

[combination lock clicking]
- Almost...almost...

- She promised Two-Face
she'd cause

a disruption at the gala
to spite Oswald Cobblepot,

but Catwoman, secretly working

with ace reporter Vicki Vale

to bring down the mayor,
is really here for the safe

she just...cracked.

[door creaks]
- Baby.

[dials phone]

[line trilling]

Hey, Ms. Uptown.
I'm in.

You were right, big fat
envelope labeled Mayor Hill.

That's helpful.

Ready for the moment of truth?
[papers shuffling]

It's documents, photos,
scientific stuff.

There's a file,
says "Ace Chemical"?

- Catwoman has just subdued


from a paramilitary
private security firm.

She deactivated countless
silent alarms and laser grids

on the way to the Penguin's
trove of lucre,

but this moment is
the first this evening

that her pulse has quickened.

- What am I looking at?

Yes, that Ace Chemical,

the huge pharmaceutical
conglomerate in the Narrows.

The mayor is helping them
cover up something

called...Project Joy Cure?

What the hell is
Project Joy Cure?

- [quacking laughter]

- Suddenly,
the sharp snap of a switch,

and the room is bathed
in harsh electric light.

- Well, well, Catwoman,
looking for dirt on the mayor?

I little suspected you were
the...political type.

- Catwoman's momentary surprise
gives way to a smile.

- [chuckling]

- The Penguin has
caught her red-handed,

but he is without
his muscle-bound majordomo

Mr. Decondor
or any other security.

- Well, I little suspected
you were the masochistic type.

Shouldn't confront an intruder
alone, Oswald,

single worst thing you can do
in a home invasion.

Now take your beating
like a man.

[knuckles crack]
And I promise to punch

like a girl.

- Oh, Catwoman, please,
don't move a muscle!

- I like to hear you beg,
Oswald.

You're truly vile.

- No, I mean it, Catwoman.

You're just about
to trip my burglar alarm.

- Ha, nice try.

Actually, no, it's not.

I took care of all
your crummy burglar alarms.

And if that's the best you got,
I should've robbed you a long--

[bird shrieks]

[crash]
Ah! What the--

- To Catwoman's shock,

one monstrous specimen
she took for dusty taxidermy

is actually
a very live predator

with a razor beak
and a 6-foot wingspan.

- [quacking laughter]
Yes, Catwoman.

You took care of all
the mechanical alarms.

[cackles]
I thought you might.

That's why I let Ossipity
nap in here.

[bird shrieking]
[quacking laughter]

- Ugh, ow!

- She's a harpy eagle,
old, not that vigilant,

but she's excessively mean.

That's all that really matters
in life I find.

Come, Ossipity, to me!

- The massive bird
wings its way to its master

who offers a morsel
of goat kidney

from his oily palm.

- Good girl, Ossipity.
[peck kisses]

- Catwoman picks herself
off the ground slowly.

- Ugh, and I thought you were
a hefty bird, Oswald.

- [squawks] What wit!

You know in tales
of mighty myth,

a massive raptor
much like this one

devoured the liver
of poor Prometheus

every night while he watched.

Isn't that interesting?

And all he did was steal fire
from the gods.

So when we're throwing out
pitches for what to do to you,

Catwoman,
the liver eating thing

is the idea to beat, all right?

k*ller Croc owes me a favor.

- But just as Penguin advances
with his taloned sentinel,

[coin jingles]

- Oh, Ozzy, that's a nice bird.
[g*nsh*t]

- Startled, the great eagle
flies from the room

as Two-Face enters
lowering a smoking g*n barrel.

- Oh, no, it flew the coop.

So are we too late
to get our ticket

for the Ice Age Gala?

- [grumbles] Two-Face!
- Harvey, thank you.

You're just in time.
- [laughs]

We ain't here to save ya,
kitty-cat.

We'll deal with you later
after him and us talk,

the bird who likes bombs.

- Now, Harvey, you're probably
a bit peaked with me,

but don't go off
half-c*ck here.

- Oh, right, right, thanks.
[c*ck g*n]

You gotta c*ck both barrels
of this old beauty.

- [squawks]
- Now then,

I didn't get the eagle,

but I think I can still
score me a birdie.

- Now, Harvey, be reasonable!
[objects clatter]

Please, I'm begging you!

- Not gonna consider
a plea agreement

at this time, Penguin.

We nearly drowned.

- What do you want me to do,
get on my knees?

I'm doing it, look!

[grunting]

Down on my knees.

Just--[groans]
This is--[grunting]

I've gotten a tad husky.

Hold my umbrella,
would you, Harvey, plea--

- Hey, what are you--
[umbrella stings]

- [quacking laughter]
- Ahh!

What did you stick me with?

[objects clatter]
- [cackles]

- The Penguin leaps to his feet
with terrifying agility

for one so oily and gelatinous

as Two-Face feels
the burning sting

of a puncture wound
in his thigh.

- [labored breathing]
- [quacking laughter]

He fell for the umbrella gig
again!

[distorted voice]
What a nitwit you are!

That's blowfish toxin,
old boys!

You're going to get
a little seasick, I believe.

- [grunting]
- [imitates babbling]

[cackles]
[heartbeat thumping]

- Indeed, Two-Face reels

but hefts his enormous firearm
nevertheless.

[tense music]

- Still...gonna sh**t ya.
[c*ck g*n]

Bye-bye, birdie.
[g*nshots]

[glass shattering]

- Whoop, that's the chandelier.

Take a mulligan, Harvey,
old boy,

and while you're teeing up,
Harvey, I want you

to answer me honestly.
- [grunting]

- This is something I have
to know.

Do you in any way blame me

for what happened to your face?

- Eat lead.
[g*nsh*t]

- [squawks] Missed again!

Because in fairness,

I only paid to have you
d*sfigured for life.

I got you losing your marbles
for free.

[squawks]
[objects thud]

- [groaning]

- Now, you're a legal type.

Since I only contracted
the tragedy that ruined you,

really that's just
white collar crime, isn't it?

Can we settle out of court?
[squawks]

- Stay still.
[g*nsh*t]

- Stay still?

Harvey, I'm not moving,
old boy.

You are.
- [groans]

[g*nsh*t]

- [laughs] Harvey, I haven't
seen a worse shot

since I judged the "Gazette's"

teenage photography
competition.

[laughs]
Oh, I am saucy tonight.

[g*n clicking]
- Ah!

- And that is the sound
of an empty revolver.

- Catwoman is-is getting away,
you--

- Let her go.

She's getting away
with nothing but an eyeful.

- Indeed, Catwoman is
presently diving

off the casino's roof
and into Gotham Harbor

per a hastily improvised
escape plan.

But she escapes with nothing
more than an address

and the enigmatic name
Project Joy Cure.

- Why...are you doing this
to us?

- You're dying to know,
aren't you?

Well, I'll tell you.

You're a disaster, Harvey,

but somewhere in there is

an absolutely brilliant
legal mind,

and I want it playing
for my Iceberg organization.

- You think we're gonna work
for you after what you--

- Not work for me, Harvey,
with me.

I'm your biggest fan.

I respect you so much
it makes me do looney things,

like hatch this plan to prove
to you that you need me.

- What are you saying?
I need you?

- Desperately.

Look how easily
you're provoked.

I threatened to blow up a
little import-export business,

and you fold like a $2 bill.

You need protection
from yourself!

- [grunting]

- I propose an alliance,

a beautiful symbiosis, Harv.

I can benefit
from your brilliant legal mind

while I help you stay out
of your own way, literally.

- You wanna...team up?

- Precisely.

- Maybe, yeah, the coin.

The coin's been trying
to tell us something.

I don't know what it wants.

- I'm certain it wants to get
you the help you need, old egg.

You need me.

So what do you say, Harv,
no hard feelings?

- Gotta...gotta ask the coin.

- Succumbing to the venom,
Two-Face produces his talisman

and sends it spinning weakly.

- Good side.

Nope, no hard feelings.

- So are we partners?

- What do you say, coin?
[coin tosses]

Good side.

Yep, you got it.

We're partners now, Ozzy.

We don't argue with the coin.

I gotta take a nap now.

Wake us up at...
[body thuds]

- Sorry you'll sleep
through the gala, Harv,

but you need your rest.

We have so much work to do
running all of Gotham.

[laughs]
Just you, and you, and me.

I can almost hear
the criminal underworld

whispering fearfully already,

[whispering]
"Penguin and Two-Face,

consolidated enterprises
unlimited."

[cackling]

- You've heard the one
about good intentions.

When Batman swapped Harvey's
coin for a rigged fake,

his intention was
to promote harmony

in the mind of a man at w*r
with himself,

but in an unforeseeable twist
of fate,

he is instead promoting harmony

between two master criminals.

What will this poisonous
partnership yield?

More tales of "Life and Death
in Gotham City."

♪ ♪

[line trilling]

[upbeat music]

- ♪ Gotham Harbor Cannery ♪

♪ Neptune's bounty in a can ♪

♪ Fresh from the sea ♪

♪ At one point in time ♪

- Thank you for calling
the quality care line.

Your call is important to us

and will be answered
in the order--

- Gotham Harbor Cannery
quality care department,

this is Maurice.

- Well, hi there, Maurice.
I'm Joe.

- It's my pleasure
to assist you, Joe.

What's your problem?

- I got this number
from the label on a large can

of chunk white tuna in oil,
weighs about 2 pounds.

- I see, sir.
Is it unsatisfactory?

- It's the Tasty Tony Tuna
brand chunk white tuna,

the one with the cartoon fish
on the label.

- I'm familiar with it, sir.
Do you have an issue?

- Yeah, how am I supposed
to feel

about this cartoon fish?

- What?

- Is that Tasty Tony himself?

Is he good with that nickname?

Does he even know
what he's advertising?

I wouldn't think so.

He looks pretty happy
on that label.

- Sir, I'm not certain what--

- Or maybe he's some kind
of piscine psychopath.

Is that it?

Is Tasty Tony Tuna
a mental deviant?

Look at him.

Is Tony getting off on me
eating this fish?

- Sir, what is the nature
of your complaint?

- Oh, no complaint.

I always call the phone numbers
I find on cans.

- Sir, is the tuna fish
not good?

- I don't know.
I haven't opened it.

I'm just putting a couple
of cans in a sock

to bludgeon you with
if you're not cooperative.

I'm in a real hurry.

- What?

- Yeah, sorry,
this is the Joker.

I'm coming down the hall.

[person screams, g*nshots]

Your cannery has

a twin-spinning galvanized
autoclave,

and I need to borrow it
for the big show

I'm working up.

If I can sneak in a plug,

it's called Dark Purple Dawn.

It opens this Valentine's Day
all over Gotham City.

See you real soon, Maurice.

If there's a survey
after this call,

you'll get high marks.

- Oh, my Go--
[line disconnects]

- Ladies and gentlemen
of Gotham City,

Oswald C. Cobblepot
proudly welcomes you

to Gotham's glacier
of glitz and glamor,

the Iceberg Casino,
for the annual Ice Age Gala.

[upbeat piano music,
tap shoes tapping]

- ♪ Won't you come along
with me ♪

♪ Put on your finest finery ♪

♪ The Iceberg's throwing
a soirée ♪

♪ In 1500 BC ♪

♪ It's the Ice Age Gala
and it's freezing hot ♪

♪ We've got the oysters
on the half shell ♪

♪ And the nickel slots ♪

♪ A prehistoric pachyderm is
proudly served on the rocks ♪

♪ It's ten below,
time for the show ♪

♪ Here's Mr. O. Cobblepot ♪

- What, what?
No, no, cut!

No, cacophony!

No, stop the orchestra!
[music stops]

You expect me to make
my entrance

to that funeral dirge?

Girls, I'm begging you.

The guests start arriving
in less than an hour,

and where are the smiles,
girls?

The Cassowary Sisters trio
I know has big bright smiles.

Yes, yes, yes,
you miss your sister Midge.

We all miss Midge,
but though we are a family,

this is a business,

and if you lack
sufficient enthusiasm,

you will be sacked,
just like Midge was.

And that's not the worst part,
girls.

It gets really unpleasant
when the sack comes off.

And it's nothing to stare at
but the river

while they mix up cement.
Told it's excruciating.

Look, you'll wish
the sack was back on.

So smiles, everyone, smiles!
From the top, please.

- [fearfully]
Uh, Mr. Cobblepot, sir.

- [squawks] Finchley,

must you croak in my ear?

- I'm very sorry,
Mr. Cobblepot.

[coughs]

- Take five, girls,

but I expect to see teeth
tonight, my chickadees.

- Mr. Cobblepot,
we have a problem.

Celeste Delmonico's RSVP
was lost in the mail.

- The ping-pong ball lady?

Oh, I like
the ping-pong ball lady.

- Well, she's coming,
and there's no room.

- It's not a problem, Finchley.

- But we have not one seat left
at the banquet.

The dining room is at capacity.

- I planned for something
like this,

you sniveling prawn.

When the banquet begins,
seat Ms. Delmonico at the bar,

and give her
a crème de violette.

Tell her you'll return
in ten minutes

and escort her
to her choice of seats.

- But how?

- Give me the seating chart,
you rancid smelt.

See here,
I have set Judge Cheney

next to Frenchy Blake,
you see?

- I-I--

- The judge is
a fossilized old buzzard,

and he surely won't remember

he sent Frenchy to Blackgate.
[quacking laughter]

But naturally, Frenchy hasn't
thought of anything else

since a pound of butter
cost a dime.

[tense music]
Meanwhile, across the table,

Frenchy Blake doesn't know it,

but Maxie Zeus is busy
playing footsie

with Mrs. Frenchy Blake...
[woman crying]

With whom he's been dallying
since poor Frenchy

went up the river.

So without fail,

Judge Cheney will raise
Frenchy's ire.

[man growls]
Frenchy will take

a swing at Judge Cheney.
[blow lands]

Mrs. Blake will protest.
- Don't!

- Frenchy will rebuke
Mrs. Blake.

And Maxie Zeus will
defend her honor.

One way or another,

either Maxie or Frenchy
goes down in the scrum.

I've taken down a competitor,
and as a bonus,

I've sent a bribe-resistant
circuit judge

to Gotham General, et voilà!

The lovely and talented
Celeste Delmonico

has her choice of seats
inside ten minutes.

Was there anything else,
Finchley,

you animate goose dropping?
[squawks]

- No, I--that's all,
Mr. Cobblepot, sir.

- Good, then get
to work coordinating

with the chief of security.

See that he replace the men
the Cat took out.

- Mm-hmm, I will!
- You better.

The streets of this berg
are positively crawling

with sanitarium escapees.

And this place looks like
Gotham Central Station!

I mean,
who are all these people?

- I'm all like, "What does he
have to do with me?"

And he's all like--
- You, who are you?

What are you here for,
young lady?

- Um, ice delivery?

- Oh-h*, the ice woman cometh,
eh?

- What's cometh?
Who says cometh?

- Why are you standing around
aimlessly, young lady?

- I'm talking on the phone.

Like, I delivered your ice,
which, you're welcome,

and then I had to make a call.

Is that, like, some terrible
catastrophe for you?

- Wh-wh-what did you just say
to me?

- Mr. Cobblepot, sir!
- [dismayed squawking]

Finchley, again with the--
- I need you right away.

The caterer, he doesn't have
the--do I have this right?

The sea elephant gonads,
you discussed?

- What?
That putrid sardine.

I promised gonads on toast!

By damnation,
in one way or another,

I will have gonads on toast!

Get out of my way!
[squawking, departing]

[crowd chatter]

- Anyway, sorry, Eddie.

You're so right.
Penguin is agro.

What was I saying?
Oh, yeah.

The special ice is delivered
or whatever.

I didn't have any problem
scoring it

from Scarecrow g*ng either.

Autumn says this one's free.

Then the next one's
gonna cost us.

Oh, and Autumn says Scarecrow
says hi.

I think you should call him,
Ed.

You don't have any friends,
and it's sad.

Like, get some friends,

and stop reading riddle books
or whatever.

Eddie, it's, like, so easy
to just not be weird.

Okay, what else?
Oh, that's it.

Tuesday out.
[line disconnects]

[lackluster carnival music]

- He's a remorseful clown.
[high-pitched squawking]

- He's a contrite clown.
[slide whistle descends]

- He's a "discontinuing a
poorly thought out promotion"

clown.
[wah-wah honking]

[together]
He's Blabbo the birthday clown.

- And the best we can say is,

he doesn't get a lot of sleep
living in his car,

so his judgment is not great.

- Of course you should
call the police

if you see an unfamiliar clown
poking around your home.

- It was irresponsible for
Blabbo to suggest otherwise.

Blabbo will be immediately
discontinuing this promotion.

- ♪ Blabbo the birthday clown ♪

♪ There's no plan B,
he'll die a clown ♪

♪ His father said
don't be a birthday clown ♪

♪ The hateful old toad
was right ♪

- Blabbo the birthday clown,
he's defeated, okay?

Whatever happens to him next
is your fault, people.

[smooth music]

- Gotham, watch your step
on the red carpet.

The ambulance is on its way.

Time for another tale

of "Life and Death
in Gotham City."

♪ ♪

The Iceberg Casino,

a semi-frozen
engineering marvel afloat

in busy Gotham Harbor.

Tonight, it hosts the biggest
of its trademark spectaculars,

the Ice Age Gala.

For this year's fête,

proprietor Oswald Cobblepot
has acquired the world's

most complete
woolly mammoth carcass

frozen in a titanic block
of ice.

And tonight, he unveils it
for a packed house.

The beautiful people of Gotham
have turned out,

as has the insatiable press.

- Give me a level, Jack.

- [clears throat]

I'm Jack Ryder, Ryder.

I'm Jack Ryder
live with Oswald Cobblepot.

Cobblepot, check one, two,
check one.

- Got it.
We're live in 30 seconds, boss.

- Thanks, Mickey.

You know, Mr. Cobblepot,

I consider myself
a serious journalist,

not a gadabout,
but I always love

covering your extravaganzas.

I'm not gonna lie, you are
a heck of a gracious host.

- And you are a talented
broadcaster, Mr. Ryder.

How do you like your whiskey?

- Well, I should wait until
we wrap, but I'm no dummy.

Oswald C. offers you a snort
from his private birdbath,

you, uh, you take it.

- I'll send you
a case of the stuff.

Enjoy it with my compliments,
Mr. Ryder.

Though, watch yourself
with the bird business.

I'll assume this time it was
the Kentucky sour mash talking.

- And we're on in four,
three...

- Good evening, folks.

Jack Ryder
live for Gotham City One.

I'm here
at the fabulous Iceberg Casino

for Oswald Cobblepot's
spectacular Ice Age Gala.

The wait staff are decked out
like kooky cavemen.

Ice sculptures are everywhere.

And here with me
is the man himself,

the fella with the umbrella,

looking as dapper as always,

Mr. Cobblepot.

- [quacking laughter]
You're a flatterer, Mr. Ryder.

I always try to look best
for my city.

- Now, it's Gotham City's
worst kept secret

that under
that enormous drop cloth

is a strange visitor
from prehistoric times?

- Really, and wherever
did you hear that?

- Well, a little birdie
told me.

- [squawks] What?
- And security is high.

Folks, we're joined by
Gotham City Police Commissioner

James Gordon.
Commish,

are you expecting
trouble tonight?

- Well, Mr. Cobblepot is
a prominent businessman--

- Prominent legitimate
businessman.

- And there are always threats
phoned in to an event this big,

but my men are on the scene,

and the Batman is
patrolling the harbor

in his personal watercraft.

Everyone's quite safe here
tonight.

- That's great, Commissioner.

I have no reason to think
you're lying,

but be straight with me
and the people of Gotham.

Why are you leading us
all naked and screaming

to the Joker's k*lling floor?

- I'm sorry, what you talking?
- Tell us the truth.

Isn't the Joker going
to grab every one of us

by the ankles and dunk us over
and over into a sucking pit

of madness until we beg
for the privilege

of a g*n barrel in our mouths?

- What's wrong with you?

What does the Joker have to--

- He has everything to do
with everything!

Why haven't you people
caught him?

Isn't that why I pay my taxes?

He's just out there,
and no one seems to care!

Oh, oh, my God,
was that laughter?

Oh, did you hear?
Is he here?

Is the Joker here?
- Get ahold of yourself, man.

This is live TV.
- [uneasy, soft laughing]

- Somebody help this man.
He's convulsing with fear.

- Commissioner, we have
a serious situation.

- Robin, what's going on?
- Robin's here?

I knew it.
He's after the Joker.

Someone out there
call the military!

The Joker may be
on the premises!

- He's assisting me
with security, Ryder.

What's wrong with him, Robin?

- He's been dosed with
low-potency Scarecrow drugs.

- Scarecrow drugs?

We screened the entire--

- It's trace amounts
in the ice cubes,

inert until it combines
with alcohol.

- Well, then everybody here--
- Every single person

who's had a drink
from the bar tonight

is gonna start experiencing
a low-grade panic attack.

- Well, it doesn't get
any worse

than a mass poisoning
from Scarecrow drugs.

- Oh, my God, folks,
I am just getting word

that a cruise ship is about
to collide with the casino!

[foghorn blares]
- Did he say cruise ship?

- What's gonna collide
with the casino?

- Why does it matter?
We're all gonna die!

[people screaming]
- Well, I stand corrected.

It can get much worse.

- Get the camera on the harbor,
Mickey, for God's sake!

Get the camera on the harbor!
Oh, dear Lord, it's true!

Look at that ship!

[foghorn blaring,
objects clattering]

- Suddenly, the loudspeakers
on the massive ship

crackle to life.

[high-pitched crackling]
- What's this,

a runaway Gotham star liner
about to hit an iceberg

and k*ll a bunch
of wealthy snots?

Riddle me this:

How would one
describe the scale

of such a maritime disaster?

Would one say colossal,

gargantuan, gigantic?

Help me out, folks.

I'm trying to work
around copyright laws here.

- It's mayhem here
at the Iceberg Casino.

The woolly mammoth is being
forklifted out of here.

Cavemen are stampeding.

Some or all of this might
be hallucinations

because I'm apparently
tripping hard.

But one thing's not
a hallucination.

This reporter's getting
the hell out of here

before the Joker seeds
inside me

grow into tiny Jokers
and then all the tiny Jokers

crawl out of my mouth
and chew my face off.

I'm Joke Ryder, Joker City One.

[crowd screaming]

- Stay tuned
for the latest developments

in this ongoing story

of "Life and Death
in Gotham City."

To be continued.

[uneasy music]

♪ ♪

[upbeat music]