02x09 - Episode 9

[bunniefuu]

narrator: "Batman:
The Audio Adventures."

[cheery hold music]

- [answering machine beeps]
- Room 609, voice mailbox.

- Wednesday, March 3rd.
- Good evening, Mr. Sawfield.

This is the concierge
at the front desk.

May I again say as great fans
of the sport of baseball

how proud we are to be hosting
the Central City Demons here

at the Gotham Grand Hotel.

While we can't go as far
as to wish you luck

against our hometown Gaslamps,
we nevertheless do hope

you enjoy your stay
to its fullest.

Please hold
for a private message.

♪ ♪
[answering machine beeps]

- Bonsoir, Mr. Sawfield,
and welcome to Gotham!

This is Oswald Cobblepot,

a humble admirer of
your remarkable athleticism.

Oh, every baseball team
has a star pitcher,

but "Lucky Bucky" Sawfield

truly belongs
in the firmament.

If you have no other
engagements this evening,

perhaps you and your teammates
would join me at my casino

for a night of
good sportsmanship

before the game tomorrow.

I'm correct you enjoy games
of skill and chance, yes?

I'll send the cars
around 7:00.

[answering machine beeps]
♪ ♪

- [answering machine beeps]
- Thursday, March 4th.

- Good morning, Mr. Sawfield.
Congratulations.

I understand your namesake
luck was plentiful

at the Iceberg last night.

I've received
your maintenance request.

So sorry to hear
you're having difficulties

accessing your in-room
lockbox safe.

You no doubt wish to
secure your winnings.

I will send someone to
investigate right away.

Please hold for
one new message.

[beeping]
♪ ♪

- [answering machine beeps]
- Well, Mr. Sawfield,

we know now for certain
that they don't call you

"Lucky Bucky" for naught, eh?

Oswald Cobblepot here.

May I say it was
an authentic honor

to have you
as my guest last night

and I trust you enjoyed
the champagne I sent over.

Both cases of it.
[laughs]

And don't worry at all
about the bit of--[mumbles]

fisticuffs you found
yourself in.

We here in Gotham understand
what "painting the town red"

sometimes means.
[laughs]

Though it's a shame
you suffered such a physical

and public altercation

with one of our opinionated
local sports fans.

Let me apologize
on his behalf.

That fellow was
an obstreperous lout.

I want you to know,
your antagonist

will never again
enjoy my hospitality

because A, I prize civility
above all else.

And B, by tragic coincidence,

he was followed home
last night

by an unknown assailant and
beaten to death with a rock.

Have a good game today!
[chuckles]

[answering machine beeps]
♪ ♪

- [answering machine beeps]
- Mr. Sawfield, hello again.

I do regret to inform you
that maintenance was unable

to open your in-room safe,

but we will contact
the manufacturer

and retrieve the contents
just as soon as we are able.

Hold for a private message
please.

[answering machine beeps]
♪ ♪

- [answering machine beeps]
- Sawfield, old smoke.

Cobblepot again.
It occurs to me,

my last message may have
left you with some questions.

I know.
A crime like this is shocking.

A man is m*rder*d
in a fit of rage.

Who would do such a thing?

Well, besides a notoriously
intemperate

hothead baseball player
from out of town,

swaggering into
the local saloon

with a chip on his shoulder,
mouthing off

while he swills free bubbly
like a gulper eel.

I mean, that will be
everyone's first thought,

of course.
The police, the press,

the victim's associates in
the Seventh Street Syndicate.

Oh, yes, you see,
that loudmouth was a made man.

And those Syndicate boys

process grief
the old fashioned way:

with a set of jumper cables

and an alkaline car battery,
don't you know?

Good thing you have an alibi,
isn't it?

Yes, no worries.
At the time of the m*rder,

you were gambling
in the salon privet

at my invitation, alone.

You were there for hours.
I can attest to that.

Or can I?

I am prone to
the most disturbing

sudden mental lacunae.
Perhaps it's the water here

because my entire staff
has the same affliction.

On the other hand,
with dozens of eyewitnesses

eager to attest they saw
"Lucky Bucky" Sawfield

in a vicious altercation
with the deceased,

lo and behold, a convincing
theory of the case

begins to emerge.

Burning with
the man's snide insults,

you followed him
out of the casino.

When he paused
to gain his bearings

in some lonely
and obscure spot,

your fury erupted
like Krakatoa.

You took a loose paving stone

and pounded him
into aspic jelly.

[blows landing]
[heartbeat pounding]

When the adrenaline subsided,
naturally, you panicked.

Stripped the corpse
of its valuables

and dumped it in the harbor...
[water splashes]

Before wandering back
to your hotel in a daze.

Such was the confusion
of your mingled bloodlust

and inebriation that
when you returned

to your room--
[gasps]

You found your hands
still clutched

to the blood-smirched
belongings of your victim.

Oh, I know it didn't
happen that way.

You know it didn't
happen that way,

but it's a theory
that will be given

a great deal of credibility

once hotel management gets
that pesky safe of yours open.

And surprise, they find
the dead man's bloody wallet

and wristwatch are inside.
[laughs]

How's that for
a curveball, Lucky?

You probably want that
combination and soon.

I'll give you a hint.
The first digit is two,

as in the number of homeruns
you need

to see our hometown hero
Swat Fleischacker hit today.

Am I making myself clear?

We have a way of speaking
in Gotham City.

Two diggers for
our hometown boy.

You had better see to it.

All right,
now, let's play ball!

narrator:
Gotham, ambition and guile

flash-frozen in
grimacing stonework.

Join us now for another tale
of life and death

in Gotham City.

March 7th finds
the Penguin desperate

for a show of strength to
counter rumors of turmoil

within his crime empire.
But he is only desperate

because the rumors are true.

The Penguin's wall of crime
may encircle the city,

but its bricks are mortared

with the legal genius
of Harvey Dent.

And thanks to the Batman,

Harvey is no longer
with the organization.

Safely spirited away in the
dead of night to Wayne Manor,

Two-Face is finally free
of the Penguin's predations.

But the sudden appearance
of the Scarecrow

suggests that his fortunes
have not necessarily improved.

- [crowd shouting]
- Get some, get some!

narrator: The noble homestead,

defiled and debauched
by deviants.

Stately Wayne Manor
is utterly besieged

as is the central nervous
system

of its namesake occupant,
Bruce Wayne.

Caught unawares,
he succumbs to a gas attack

from the nefarious
Dr. Jonathan Crane,

now revealed to be
the pharaoh of panic himself,

- the Scarecrow.
- [coughing]

- Breathe deeply,
little Brucie.

It's such a short trip from
the breath to the blood,

- from the blood to the brain.
- I--I--

- Oh, I've got such things
in store for you.

You two, take him
to his resting place.

The rest of you, Eyeball, Scud,
search the house.

Roust the staff.

I think it's just
one butler somehow.

As for Dent,

he's dangerous
and I'm bored with him.

When you find that
conjoined monstrosity,

put it out of its misery.

narrator:
At their master's command,

the crank-addled delinquents
fan out

amidst the fine furnishings

and a shambling miasma
of profanity.

Where are you, Harvey?

Ollie, ollie, oxen free!
[discordant notes]

Well, what have we here?

[snorts] Of course this house
has its own pipe organ.

Oh, now, that's just
an invitation, isn't it?

♪ Oh ♪

♪ The hip bone's connected
to the thigh bone ♪

narrator: Upstairs,
faithful Alfred realizes

the time is now if
he and Two-Face wish to escape

a rapidly approaching tide
of recreational sadists.

- Mr. Dent, I realize
you are somewhat poorly,

but if you could perhaps
find the strength, I recommend

we escape whatever
these hooligans have in mind.

[as the Other] No problem.

- Where do you keep the heaters?
- Heaters?

- [as Harvey]
Bruce doesn't keep firearms

in the house, you clod.

He detests them
for obvious reasons.

- [as the Other] Oh, right.
The parents got plugged.

- [as Harvey]
Oh, have some tact,

- you thoughtless ignoramus.
- [as the Other] Hey!

Don't talk to me like that
around the help.

- Oh, I don't care.
- [as Harvey] The butler is

several times
your mental superior and--

- [growls as the Other]
- Please, sirs,

do exclude me
from the squabble.

narrator: Alfred projects
preternatural calm,

but a squabble
can only mean one thing:

the effects of the JoyCure
are wearing off.

And the peace and harmony
inside Two-Face along with it.

[as Harvey] How dare you?

- [as the Other]
Oh, don't faint, precious.

narrator: With waxing dread,
Alfred realizes

the window
to avoid catastrophe

has nearly slammed shut
on his fingers.

- Gentlemen, please.
both: Huh?

- The situation has become
quite urgent.

There is a ruffian
arriving imminently

and he is going to find
the two of us unarmed.

- Counselor, come out,
come out wherever you are.

- [as Two-Face]
We can take 'em.

- You're going to have to.
Listen carefully.

There are twin suits of armor

at the end of the hall
fully dressed for battle.

- [as the Other] If it's twins,
we like the plan already.

- I'll engage the ruffian
in a wrestling hold.

- [as Two-Face] You?
- Well, I was rather a grappler

in my youth, but yes, I'll only
manage to hold him for moment.

So you need to rush
down the hall to the armor,

procure a weapon,
and come to my rescue.

- [as Harvey] Got it.
[door slams]

- Come out, come out--
- [groans]

- Now, Mr. Dent.
[grunting]

- [as Harvey] Uh, Alfredo,
we're at the armor.

- Very good, sir.
If you would kindly...

[grunts]
Only grab a mace.

Now, Mr. Dent.

- [as Harvey]
Okay, but there's two.

Yes, just grab one.

- [as Harvey]
Okay, but which one?

- I assure you,
it doesn't matter.

- [as Harvey]
I assure you it does.

- Just flip a coin--
oh, ah, of course.

The right one.

- [as Harvey]
His right or right--

- His right.
- [as Harvey] Thank you.

narrator: Two-Face
labors through a fog

of drug-induced confusion,
but seizing the iron cudgel,

he is suddenly invigorated by
the promise of violence.

- [screams as Two-Face]
narrator: A promise

soon fulfilled
to his exacting standards.

- [as the Other]
Good plan, Alfredo.

- We knew we liked you.
- Yes, very good, sir.

Now, if you please, run toward
the bottom of the stairs.

Master Bruce's study locks
securely from the inside.

I'll be right behind you.

narrator: The two make haste
for sanctuary,

but the remainder
of the hunting party

catches a scent
of their quarry.

- There they are.
After 'em.

- Give me the shotgun, Scud.
[g*n c*ck]

- [g*nsh*t]
- [groans as Harvey]

- Mr. Dent!
- [as Harvey] Just buckshot.

We're... [groans]
Fine.

Keep moving. We're almost--

[door slams shut]

There. [groans]

narrator: Two-Face slumps
to the floor of the study,

heaving and bloody.

All else is eerily silent,
undisturbed,

save for the patient serenity

of the great
grandfather clock.

- [as Two-Face]
Awful quiet out there.

Do you think they--
[pounding on door]

- Come out, come out, come out,
come out, little lambchops.

It's time to get cleaned and
dressed and seared and eaten.

- The door's reinforced, boss.
I mean, heavy duty.

- Then we do this
with chemicals.

- Oh, dear.
- Put on your masks.

Flood the entire mansion
with the cheap stuff.



No, 80.
And cut it with CX nerve gas.

We want these nightmares
to hurt.

Oh, dear!

narrator:
Alfred has mere moments

to devise an escape.

- The windows--
- [groans as Two-Face]

narrator: Are no option
for Two-Face,

who at present should be
occupying a stretcher.

Let it rip, boys!

narrator: They cannot remain
where they are.

The door is sturdy,
but it is not airtight.

In point of fact,
the only airtight

and hermetically sealed
environment

- on the estate grounds is--
- The Batcave.

- [as Two-Face]
Come again, Alfredo?

narrator:
Alfred has no choice.

- Mr. Dent,
we're going downstairs.

- [as Two-Face] Huh?

[mechanism clicking]
[door creaks open]

narrator:
Two-Face can be forgiven

if he doesn't understand

exactly what he's witnessing.

A megadose of JoyCure
mingled with blood loss

and a whiff of
the Scarecrow's gas

is a stiff c*ck
for the ruddiest sot.

But Two-Face could swear

the butler just walked him
into the clock

and down, down.
How far down?

- [as Two-Face] What is this?

Some kind of safe room?

The safest in the city, sir.

Authorization, Alfred one.

narrator: The mismatched eyes
of Two-Face blink and strain

through a heavy veil of drugs,
distress, and disbelief.

- [as Harvey]
I can't believe it.

It's not possible.

Bruce Wayne is--

- Yes, Mr. Dent,
Bruce Wayne is--

- [as the Other]
Bruce Wayne

- is a filthy liar.
- What? No.

- [as Harvey]
He said he was there for us.

- [as the Other] He always said
he wanted to help us.

Sure, but all this time,
he had an angle.

- [as Harvey]
Bruce Wayne is Batman.

And I thought I was
the two-faced b*stard.

- Mr. Dent, I assure you--

- [as the Other]
The old double life gimmick

and we fell for it.

- Please, Mr. Dent,
you need medical attention.

- [as Harvey] We don't like
to be played, Alfredo.

- [as Two-Face]
It's a guarantee.

When we get played,

someone...gets...hurt.

Mr. Dent, don't!

[crashing and
electrical zapping]

narrator: The betrayal he long
suspected, seemingly realized.

The wrath of Two-Face scorned

is a two mega-ton b*mb
in free fall.

See it detonate in a future
tale of life and death

in Gotham City.

- My fellow Americans,
Honest Abe Fetterman here.

Four score and seven years ago,

I brought forth in Gotham City

insane savings!
[electric guitar wails]

But now, everything must go!

I'm talking blenders!
I'm talking toasters!

Washers, dryers!
That's right,

Honest Abe's Hardware
and Household Appliances

is shutting its doors for good.

But we're passing
the savings on to you.

Just look at these deals.

- An electric waffle iron.
- $900.

- Energy Star rated
air conditioning unit.

$600,000.

- And right here is
a 19-inch color television set

for the incredible price of--

oh, my God,
this can't be right.





$499,734,850,000.52!

That's right, Gotham City.

With prices like these,
I must be insane!

- And of course, he was.
Hi, I'm Abraham Fetterman Jr.

and I want to thank
the community

for their support
for my father,

Honest Abe Fetterman,

during his recent struggle
with mental illness.

It wasn't easy for him to close

his beloved hardware and
household appliance store

and agree to be committed
to Arkham Asylum,

but we all agree it was
for the best

and he's happier there.

And I understand
they're letting him wear

his Abe Lincoln costume
on the inside,

which probably means they
found out the same way I did

that if you try to take it
off him, he will bite you.

Kindness gets you nowhere
with that man.

Anyhow, from all of us
at the Honest Abe family,

minus Honest Abe,

who will be making
no further public statements,

thanks for the memories,
Gotham City.

chorus: ♪ Honest Abe's
Hardware and ♪

♪ Household Appliances ♪

♪ The prices are
literally insane ♪

narrator: Gotham,
a cat's cradle

strung from
high-tension wires.

Join us now, for another tale
of life and death

in Gotham City.

Robin to Batman.

[radio static]
Come on.

narrator:
Batman and Robin communicate

over a heavily modified
WayneTech Mark 7

crystal-fiber satellite linkup
supported by a network

of ideally located private
relay towers around Gotham.

- Robin to Batcave.
Computer, do you copy?

[radio static]
You gotta be kidding me.

narrator: It's possible for
any system to fail,

even one designed
by the Batman,

or so Robin tells himself.

What's the alternative?

Batman and the Batcave
are both somehow offline?

Preposterous.

And so the Boy Wonder
puts it from his mind

to focus more keenly
on the task at hand.

[comm beeping]

- Come in, Commissioner Gordon.
- Gordon here.

- Is this Robin?
- Yes, sir.

My communications with
the Batman are non-functional.

- Do you have comms?
- Negative. Is that normal?

Not normal, no.

I was just about to end
my patrol early and investigate

when I saw suspicious activity
at the old

Honest Abe's Hardware and
Household Appliances store.

- That's on the edge of
Burma Shave Boys territory.

Probably a g*ng
of those urchins scrounging

for abandoned valuables,
isn't it?

- That could be,
but I had a hunch.

Joker has been
bouncing around town

from one makeshift
safehouse to the next

- since Penguin put the hit out.
- Yeah?

- Batman always says there's
a method to his madness.

I think he's set up shop
in Honest Abe's.

- The Joker?
Of all the places in Gotham,

what in the world
makes you think

he's in an abandoned
hardware store?

- It's the initials,
Commissioner.

Probably pretty irresistible
to the Joker.

- Initials?
- Honest Abe's--

- H-A--

- Hardware and
Household Appliances.

- H-A, H-A.

"Ha, ha, ha."

- They say the best jokes are
the ones you have to explain.

- Yeah, well,
if it is the Joker--

- Sorry to interrupt,
Commissioner,

but we're no longer dealing
in hypotheticals.

narrator: A long purple sedan
with darkened headlamps

slithers down the alley
like a viper.

[engine rumbling]

[door opens]

- [footsteps]
- [whistling]

It's the Joker all right.

I've never been
this close to him, you know?

- Not without Batman.
- Okay, now, now, fall back.

I'll send a unit.
I'll send two.

He's unloading crates.

Batman would
plant surveillance.

- Batman would tell you
to get out of there

and report to him.

- Can't test that theory,
Commissioner.

Batman isn't
answering my calls.

- [whistling]
[rolling door clanking]

- [whispers]
He went inside.

I can slip in
the basement window

and plant an eavesdropper
in the storefront.

- Robin, I know
I don't give you orders,

but I hope I've earned
enough of your respect

that you'll listen to me
when I beg you.

Don't do it.

You thinking it over?
What I said?

Thinking about not doing it?

Robin?

Hello?
narrator: Too late.

Robin is already inside.

It's pitch dark.
Should it be this cold?

Night vision reveals...
no sign of the Joker.

But the Boy Wonder can still
count on his keen hearing.

- [whistling]
- He's in the back office.

narrator: Robin could leave
the surveillance device

anywhere in the shop,

but the Joker could be gone
in hours.

Less.
What is it that Batman says

about opportunity?

Knock first and knock hard.

narrator: The real coup
would be planting it

on the clown himself.

The whistling
seems to beckon him.

- [exhales deeply]
I can do this.

narrator: As Robin creeps
between the empty shelves

of the abandoned storefront,

the vacancy of the place
seems to howl.

[whistling]

narrator: If he can just get
a line of sight on the Joker,

he can sh**t the eavesdropper
from a distance undetected.

The floor is sticky.

What are those fumes?

Something was burned beyond
recognition in the trashcan.

What is it? What was it?

And why is it so cold in here?

[whistling]

narrator: At last,
he gets to the door.

[door creaks quietly]

And peering into the light
of a single, bare bulb,

the Boy Wonder sees--

Oh, no.

narrator: That he should've
listened to the Commissioner.

- Now then, try practicing
that tune a few times.

When you're ready,
flip to side B of

"How to Whistle
like a Nightingale--"

[record skipping]
nightingale--nightingale--

narrator: A phonograph needle
in an empty room skips.

Robin realizes
his mistake too late

as he feels a cold hand
on his shoulder.

- You must know how to whistle,
little birdy.

Got any pointers?

- [groans]
[impact]

- These records are a real
rip-off. [laughs]

narrator: Robin is felled.

To find out why
the caged bird stings,

tune in to future tales of
life and death in Gotham City.

[upbeat electric music]

chorus: ♪ Gotham City One ♪

- Good evening,
Gotham movie buffs.

I'm Jack Ryder.

Tune in this Saturday at
midnight when I'm hosting--

[bell tolls]
Oh, no.

[creepy voice]
The transformation

is happening again!

[laughs]

Hark!
Strikes the midnight hour

and so the Creeper emerges from
his ancient tomb to--

[normally]
"Tomb"? Am I a vampire?

I thought this was, like,
a Jekyll-Hyde thing.

Yeah, no, it does.
It makes a difference to me.

We just did
a whole transformat--fine.

[creepy voice] Join me,
the Midnight Creeper,

on Gotham City One this
Saturday as I seize control

of your planetary airways
for a screening of

the Argus Studios
horror classic, "Dread Castle."

Do not resist, puny Earthlings.
You will--

[normally] "Earthlings"?
Earthlings, okay.

You're just
messing with me now.

Did anyone settle
on a backstory

for this character? No?

Just a little creative
free-for-all to make

Jack look like he has
no judgement whatsoever?

Whatever.

[defeated creepy voice]
The midnight movie

on Gotham City One.

[normally] I regret--
I just hate this.

I hate every part of this.

♪ ♪

chorus: ♪ Gotham City One ♪

narrator: Gotham, a dark room

where memories drown
in a chemical bath.

Join us once again for a tale
of life and death

in Gotham City.

The silence of the tomb.

- [scraping]
- Where am I?

narrator: It was a somewhat
rhetorical question.

Bruce is restrained, confined,
and so heavily drugged

any further elaboration
would be lost on him.

It was a waste of breath
to even ask,

unless someone can hear him.

You're in the family plot.

Yes, I know it's cramped,
but you'll soon disassociate

and we'll wander the wilds of
your mind together,

little Brucie.

Through one of your...

- manufactured nightmares.
- Nonsense.

I'm here to give you
your fondest wish,

little orphan boy.
Just like magic.

In fact, abracadabra.

What did you just do?

- I've given you
a chance at happiness.

- Bruce.
- Mother?

- Bruce.
- Father?

What is this?

It's therapy, dear boy.

In here, you're no longer
an orphan.

Bruce, come along now.

What are you saying?

That night,
the Monarch theater,

the alley,
my parents weren't k*lled?

Oh, not yet.

- Hurry, Bruce.
The picture's about to start.

- But it is that night, Bruce.
- No.

- And I'm afraid
the night is young.

- If you don't step lively,
young man,

you'll miss the cartoon short.

- Mother, don't go
into the theater.

- You love the cartoon short,
don't you, son?

- Father, please.
Please take us home.

What has gotten into you?

- And now,
Argus Pictures presents

the ham-fisted predicaments
of the Dim Knight,

the world's greatest
defective, Bat-Mite.

- This is your chance
at happiness, Bruce.

A chance you've always wanted.

A chance to save them.

[chuckles]

- Can you save your parents
this time, Bruce?

[laughs]

narrator: Life and death
in Gotham City.

To be continued.