02x10 - Episode 10

[bunniefuu]

narrator: "Batman:
The Audio Adventures."

[indistinct voices whispering]

Where am I?

Where are you?

Well, now what kind of question
is that, son?

- Father?
- You didn't fall asleep,

- did you, Bruce?
- Mother?

Mother, it's-it's dark.

- Well, it is a movie theater,
Bruce.

- Welcome
to the Monarch Theater.

- Sit back and enjoy the show.
- Oh, no.

- Bruce, settle down now,
dearest.

- It can't be.
- The cartoon short

is starting, Bruce.

Who knows what evil dwells

in the heart
of the dark of the city?

One lone defender
of the night.

Look! In the shadows.
On the rooftops.

It's a specter. It's a shade.

It's Bat-Mite!
[crash]

- Yuh-oh!
[laughter]

- Argus Studios
Consolidated Cartoons presents

Bat-Mite in...

"The Thomas
and Martha Wayne Murders."

[slide whistle cascades]
[splat]

- What is this?
What's happening?

- I saw the Mite Lite,
Commissioner Gorgon.

What can I do to crush

the city's malefactors
tonight?

- Ah, Bat-Mite, finally.

I need you to escort
the Wayne family

from the Monarch Theater
through Crime Alley.

And when I get back,

I better not find them
in a puddle of blood!

Is that clear?
[laughter]

- You can count on me,
Commissioner.

- No.
- What's wrong, Bruce?

Something the matter, son?

- Yeah, something the matter,
Brucie?

- What?
- Yoo-hoo.

Up here on the screen, mac.

What's the matter?
Don't you like the cartoon?

- This isn't happening.
This didn't happen.

- Yeah, past and present
have gone all screwy

here in Bruce's bean,
haven't they?

It's the Scarecrow's
fear toxin, of course.

But don't worry.

Just like I told the Commish,

I got everything under--

- All right, youse mugs,
this is a stickup.

- [g*n c*ck]
- Yuh-oh!

- I'll take that necklace
you're wearing, lady.

- Save us, Bat-Mite!

- Never fear,
Bat-Mite is here!

I am vengeance.
[boom]

I am judgment.
[boom]

I am righteous justice.

I am originally from upstate,

but small-town life
doesn't really suit my style.

So a few years back,
I sold everything I owned

and I bought a van,
and I said,

"If you don't do this now,
you're gonna wake up one day

full of regrets, Bat-Mite."

And--
[g*nshots]

Yuh-oh!
[laughter]

See you around, pally.

- Bat-Mite!
- Yuh-oh!

- Whose puddle of blood
is this?

And don't you dare say
the Waynes'!

[jolly music]
[laughter]

- Psst. Hey, Brucie.
It looks like you were right.

It looks like your parents
are daisy food, again.

- [laughter]
- This isn't happening. Focus.

This is just convulsions
in your subconscious.

- Oh, boo-hoo.
So sue me.

I'm just the vengeance
of the night over here.

If you're so sure
you could do a better job...

- Well, Thomas,
that cartoon was dreadful.

- I've seen enough.
- I agree, Martha.

Gather Bruce
and let's leave discreetly.

We'll use the exit
onto the alley.

- You're about to get
your chance to prove it!

narrator: Gotham, an oil slick
on the road to salvation.

Join us now for another tale
of life and death

in Gotham City.

March 8th.

Bruce Wayne is lost

in the mists of his mind

and at the mercy
of the Scarecrow.

Meanwhile, the Penguin mounts

an aggressive effort
at damage control,

his fearsome reputation eroded
by imprudent ambition.

Without Harvey Dent,

he stands to lose his grip
on the underworld.

And without the Joker's head
on a pike,

he will lose
his precariously-situated

influence
over the police department.

Oswald Cobblepot has
badly miscalculated.

And his only hope
is that Catwoman

can adjust the final tally.

[cat meows]
[footsteps splashing]

Arkham Asylum
for the Criminally Insane.

Superintendent of Operations

Dr. Jeremiah Arkham
has a problem.

- Nurse!
Has anyone seen the new nurse?

narrator: He came
into work today to find

someone had changed
the entry code to his office.

This is irritating
but not unusual.

The security keypads
are known for their glitches.

[electricity sizzles]
The unusual part is,

when he entered his code
incorrectly...

- [keypad beeps]
- Huh?

narrator: The basement
of the asylum flooded.

And every time he enters
his code incorrectly...

- [keypad beeps]
- Son of a--

narrator: The water rises
another 12 inches.

That does it.

narrator:
Dr. Arkham knows well

that a problem of this nature

has one, and only one,
possible source.

- [lock clicks]
- Riddler.

Question:

where did Noah find a leakum?

Answer:
in the bottom of his Arkham.

[laughs]

Not funny. Not funny.

- I'll tell you
what's not funny.

I booked a room
in a sanatorium.

This dump is clearly
a sanitarium.

Did you think
I wouldn't notice?

[laughs]

Ugh, they're synonyms
with different Latin roots.

Why did I think you'd get that?

You're a plebeian
from a diploma mill.

- How is it that every time
I take away your privileges,

life gets harder for me?

- Well, in military terms,
that's called

getting your a*s kicked
on the b*ttlefield, Jeremiah.

Is it really that hard
to understand?

I'm kidding. I know that it is.

- What's it gonna take, huh?
Tell me.

- Well, you'd have to go
back to school

and attend a real college
this time.

And then, um--
oh, you mean about me?

- You know,
I thought I'd taken everything

that I could from you.

Well, you certainly tried.

narrator: Indeed,
alone in a bare cell,

Riddler is bound tightly
in full restraints--

double-straitjacketed,

cuffed to a gurney,
legs in irons,

unable to even scratch
his nose.

[chains clink]
It's a nigh-unbearable

suppression
of basic personal freedoms

that is known in the Asylum
as "full Joker protocol."

- And still you escalate
the juvenile mischief.

Now I realize
I've taken everything

except the only thing
you care about.

- The true meaning
of Christmas?

Your precious intellect.

Wait, what are you saying?

- I'm saying


of a Haloperidol-Diazepam
c*ck

will have you struggling
to finish

the junior crossword puzzle

and me clocking out
at a decent hour for once.

- You wouldn't dare.
You're a doctor.

- Yes, but you know
what I finally realized?

My job is just to turn you
into a respectable citizen.

Nobody's paying me
to deliver you undamaged.

narrator:
Riddler is momentarily

without a ready response.

Where is that nurse?

- [door clicks open]
- I'm sorry, Doctor.

Finally. Give me the syringe.

I'm sorry it's come to this,
Edward.

Well, no, I'm not.

I'll admit it.
This is personal.

And ever since I made
this decision,

I've felt an indescribable
lightness and serenity.

Nurse, I said
give me the sedative.

- If you say so, Doctor.
- What are you--[groans]

narrator:
Dr. Arkham manages to cling

to just enough consciousness
to realize...

You're...not...a...nurse.

narrator: Before crumpling
to the floor in a heap.

- [groans]
- I'll be honest,

I have no idea
what I just shot him with

or how long he'll be out.

So let's make this quick, okay?

I have a favor to ask.

Well, well, well.

What has ears like a cat
and claws like a cat

and rude 'tude like a cat
but isn't a cat?

- Oh, shut up, Eddie.
- [laughs]

Well, this is unexpected.

Do I have something
worth stealing?

The toilet is an antique,

but I don't think
it's valuable.

I told you I need a favor.

And I don't have a lot of time.

I came down here
on a simple little errand

to reallocate some resources.

- To steal something?
- Don't even call it theft.

It offends
my professional integrity.

I just need access
to Dr. Arkham's personal files,

which should be like taking
candy from a baby.

Instead, I get here to find--

what did you do
to his security system anyway?

- Oh, it's a tangled mess
for certain.

But like most hopeless puzzles,

it has
an oh-so-elegant solution

if one carefully considers
the clues.

[clears throat]
Riddle me this!

I have no form,
no face or features--

- Nope!
Not doing the riddle thing.

- Oh, come on!
- I'll figure it out myself.

Thanks anyway.

- How is the lady
in the cat ears

not the fun one at the party?

- Are you going to tell me
how to disarm

your ridiculous booby trap
or not?

- And what could you
possibly have to offer me

as an incentive?

Well, riddle me this.

Which side of a cat
has the most fur?

What?

[keypad beeps, chimes]

- [cell door creaks open]
- The outside.

You look pretty uncomfortable
in those restraints, Eddie.

I have a car waiting.

It'll take you
anywhere you want to go.

You must be getting tired
of the Padded Cell Motel.

- Pfft, I escape this dump
all the time.

What makes you think
I need your help?

- I don't know, Eddie.
It sounds like if you stay

under Arkham's care,
you're gonna need help

with a whole lot,

starting with basic
drool maintenance.

- And what's in Arkham's office
that's so important, anyway?

Evidence bag.

Listed contents:
one switchblade,

one deck of playing cards,
red suits only,

one high-voltage joy buzzer,

$69 in counterfeit $3 bills.

Ugh, $69. What a hack.

What's your interest
in that professional

lowest common denominator?

Just the price on his head.

- Well, now you have
my interest.

Arkham's file boxes contain

everything the Joker had on him

when the Batman
first brought him in.

- Bunch of trash.
What could you possibly want

- to do with that?
- Nothing.

I'm interested in the one item
Dr. Arkham conveniently forgot

to catalogue--
a personal journal.

- Get out.
- Filled to the margins

with deeply personal secrets.

- Good God, you don't mean--

- If I'm going
to hunt him down,

I need to get into his head.

To get into his head, I need
the Joker's secret diary.

narrator: The deepest,
darkest secret thoughts

of the Joker laid bare?

Surely Pandora had
less to fear from her box.

Stay tuned as we lift the lid
on a future tale

of life and death
in Gotham City.

[TV set clicks]
[tap shoes tapping]

[clicks]
[bongos playing, birds sing]

- Happy Mardi Gras,
Gotham City.

Yes, it's Fat Tuesday
and that means--[clicks]

- The Gotham Gaslamps
return to town

for this crucial series
with Central City.

- Central City hurler
Lucky Bucky Sawfield

very restrained
on the mound today.

- Lou, I almost want to say
he looks spooked.

- Something has gotten
into him for sure.

We'll probably never know
what.

Anyway, today's game
brought to you

by Oswald Cobblepot's fabulous
Iceberg Lounge and Casino.

- If you know
what's good for you,

you'll play the Cobblepot way.

The Iceberg Lounge.

Oswald Cobblepot
doesn't ask twice.

[clicks]
[Theremin music]

- [clicks]
- It would be

Basil Karlo's last film

and gain a notorious place
in the annals of film history

and the study
of criminal insanity.

The film was titled,
"The Second Skin."

- [clicks]
- Yuh-oh, Brucie!

- You again.
- [giggles] Who else?

- You are just a construct
of my mind.

A fantasy made
of psychedelic chemicals

and surplus brain architecture.

- Oh, are we getting
personal now?

- You are the contents
of my mental wastebasket.

Doubt, regret, pain.

You are nothing
but broken pieces

- of defeated enemies.
- Nothing?

Hey, come on!
Can nothing do this?

[psychedelic tones]

- Come along, Bruce.
We're leaving the theater.

- We'll cut through the alley.
- No, no.

- [chuckling] Oh, yes.
Movie night is over.

And that means
it's almost showtime.

Father, no! Don't do it!

- Yes, Thomas, let's go
through the alley.

Alfred's waiting with the car.

- ♪ Let's all go
to the alley ♪

♪ Let's all go to the alley ♪

♪ Let's all go
to the alley ♪

♪ To face a grisly fate ♪

- Not the alley, Mother.
Not again.

Yes, Bruce, again.

But this time,
you can save them,

unless the fear
consumes you...again.

♪ The wolf is at the gate ♪

♪ He's hunting,
you're the bait ♪

♪ Let's all go
to Crime Alley ♪

♪ To face a grisly fate ♪

[door clunks open]
[cat meows]

[echoing footsteps]

- So this is it.
Crime Alley.

Gee, I wonder
why they call it--

- All right, nobody move.
This is a stickup.

- Okay, thank you.
I got no further questions.

- I'll take that necklace
you're wearing, lady.

- Leave her alone, you!
- Quick, Bruce!

This is the chance
you've been waiting for!

Use your Bat-Mite
junior crime-fighting kit!

- Yes, I have to--what is this?

[chew toy squeaks]
[silverware clanks]

[duck quacks]
[spring recoils]

- What's the matter?
When it really counts,

all your precious toys
are just useless junk?

[g*nshots, thudding]

- [cackles]
- [sighs] Oh.

- [groans]
- Oh, boy. Run!

You gotta hide.

That mugger is looking
to finish the job.

- Don't you feel the fear?
- Yes.

I have--I have to run.

- I have to--
- [chuckles]

- Oh, you gotta do better
than that.

You have to hide!

He'll be after you

your...entire...life.

Unless you do something.

[door creaks open, shut]

Psst, maybe in here.
[bats squeaking]

- [whispering]
What is this place?

It's a cave, I think.

Perfect place to hide.

Yes, I can hide in the cave.

- Come on, little boy.
Where you hidin'?

- But if he finds you,
what then?

That guy is
a Wayne-k*lling machine,

boy howdy.

To really feel safe,
you'll need a disguise.

Here, take this.
[fabric flutters]

A cape?

- This is a cape.
- Exactly.

Nice fit, but I still see
Bruce under there.

You better take this mask too.

There we go. Perfect.

Nobody would ever guess
you're a Wayne.

You got the cape.
You got the mask.

Congratulations.
You look ridiculous.

Ridiculous?

- Completely absurd.
Look at you!

[growls]
"I shall become a bat."

[cackles] What a schnook.

You're the heir
to the Wayne legacy.

What would your father think?

- My father would be
proud of me,

of my mission for Gotham City.

- My father was a fighter.
- [laughs]

Your father was
a doctor, Brucie.

He lived by "do no harm."

Not exactly your MO, huh,
Mr. Vengeance of the Night?

You've crippled way more people
than he ever saved.

- No. I--
- And what would

your dear old mama think
of this dark thing

you made yourself into?

She'd blame herself, of course.

What a dope she was.

She thought
she taught you kindness.

- No.
- [whistles]

Boy, I thought you were afraid
of the mugger.

But we found
what you were really afraid of,

didn't we, Brucie?

You're afraid
you've disappointed them.

You're afraid
you've dishonored them.

And you're right, Brucie.

It's kind of funny
when you think about it.

Ever since that night
in the alley,

you've been trying to do right
by old Mom and Dad.

To be the justice
they never got.

But get this.
Your entire life's work?

All it's done...

is turn you into something
your parents could never love.

No. No.

- [laughing maniacally]
- No. No.

[operatic singing]

narrator: Gotham,

where foul play
always scores the run.

Join us now for another tale

of life and death
in Gotham City.

- [bat cracks]
- Folks, tell 'em "heads up"

over in Gotham Heights,

'cause that one is
out of here.

narrator:
Sold out Gotham Stadium

on a bitter cold
March evening.

Perfect Gotham City
baseball weather.

Tonight, a homecoming for
two-time winter league champs

the Gotham Gaslamps
as they face

the down and dirty
Demons of Central City.

Star slugger
Swat Fleischacker has hit

- his first homer of the night.
- Unbelievable!

- And one more homer
will break the league record!

narrator: The crowd goes wild.

And the Penguin crows
knowingly

to the various nefarious
gathered

in his luxurious box seats.

- See?
What did I tell you, Frenchy?

Swat Fleischacker is
hot tonight.

- Yeah, funny,
'cause it sure looks like

it's the pitcher
who's sweatin'.

- Sawfield pausing again
to mop sweat from his brow.

- Very sweaty for
a cold night, isn't he, Lou?

- Who,
old Lucky Bucky Sawfield?

[mimics honk sound]
Indeed.

Must have a lot on his mind.

Wonder what it could concern.

I told you the fix was in.

- Hot dogs!
- Over here, boy!

Who needs sustenance?
I'm positively depleted.

Maxie, would you want
a wienie, old boy?

- That's one homer, Oswald.
You promised us two.

- I got long green at stake
on nothing but your say-so.

Oh, patience.

Tonight's your lucky night,
boys.

- The dice of Zeus
always fall luckily.

But still,
betting on double taters is

- very risky, Oswald.
- Oh, stop fidgeting, Maxie,

and eat your hot dog
like a good little god.

Trust me,
there's plenty of game left.

The fix is in.

narrator: But despite
his ample assurances,

it's now the bottom
of the ninth

and Swat has yet to hit
that second dinger.

- [ball smacks in glove]
- You're out!

- Strike three,
and Hobart is out of there.

Lucky Bucky is on fire,

and I think the crowd has
soured a little, Stiv.

- That they have.
And ruh-roh!

Here comes the Central City
mascot Speedy the Demon Dog

to rub it in.

[mascot barking]

- Speedy the Demon Dog
feeling pretty chesty

in the absence of Lampy,
the Gaslamps' mascot.

- Lampy would never
have tolerated

this kind of disrespect
from a visiting mascot.

May he rest in power.

narrator: Yes, the Demons
have taken the swagger

out of the hometown team.

And the confines
of the Penguin's private box

is no sanctuary from
the pessimism of the crowd.

- Last chance
for that homer approaches,

citizen Cobblepot.

Drama, gentlemen, drama!

We have to make it look good,
don't we?

And what a great finish
this will be for the fans.

One for the ages. You'll see.

We better see, Oswald.

It would go a long way
to restoring my faith

in your, let's call it,
prominence.

What's that supposed to mean?

- Peanuts!
Get your bag of peanuts!

- It means
you are stretched thin,

and everyone knows it.

Is that a fact?

- Too much on your plate,
they say.

Taking over the police,
the merger with Dent--

where is Dent anyway, Oswald?

cr*cker Jack!

I got your crunchy
cr*cker Jacks

with the toy inside!

- My, my.
Seems Speedy the Demon Dog

isn't the only one
feeling chesty tonight,

eh, Frenchy, old smoke?

- I think your tailfeathers
are draggin', Ozzie.

And you're lucky the Bat
is busy with the Scarecrow.

You gonna try to tell me
I'm wrong?

- I'm going to try to forget
you said that, Frenchy.

I pick the winners
and losers in this town.

The fools that forget that?

Those aren't the winners,
old bean.

- And next up on deck
for the Gaslamps,

Swat Fleischacker!

- Fireworks!
Get your free fireworks!

- Did she say free fireworks?
- That's right!

Happy Mardi Gras, everybody!
Free fireworks for everyone!

Get your firecrackers.
Get your Roman candles.

What the devil is this?

narrator: It's Harley Quinn
and her crew,

decked out
in full Mardi Gras regalia

and distributing pyrotechnics

to the rowdy crowd
by the fistful.

I say, Clown Woman,

what the devil do you think
you're doing?

Hey there, Tuxedo Bandido.

What's it look like
I'm doing, mac?

It's Mardi Gras, and I'm here
to bring the bang!

- You can't give the crowd
expl*sives.

There's a game going on.

- Oh, do not worry
about that, pally.

I told everyone
wicked seriously

to, no matter what wait,
till the game was totally over

before settin' off any--
[firecrackers crackle]

- Uh-oh.
- Wh-what?

- Well, how do you like that?
Always one wise guy, right?

- And Fleischacker steps in.
- Folks, this could be

for the game
and the league record.

- The famously distractible
Swat Fleischacker

can't let the moment
get to him.

- [fireworks whistle]
- Aww, come on, youse guys.

- What did I say?
- W-w-what did you think

was going to happen?

narrator: As Penguin burbles
with agitation,

Swat Fleischacker steps
out to the plate,

swinging the famous
Sluggerella.

[bat whiffs]
And Harley's eyes light up

like a slot machine.

- [choral music]
- That's that bat

- with the magic feeling!
- Swat steps up to the plate.

- Folks, so much is riding
on this moment.

narrator: This is
Harley's thought precisely.

Mine. Now.

- Sawfield winds up...
and the pitch.

What a meatball.
Slow and over the plate.

Fleischacker digs in and--
[firework pops, whistles]

- [ball smacks in glove]
- Strike one.

- [mimics honking sound]
No! Focus, you idiot.

narrator: But the louder
it gets in the stadium...

[fireworks crackling]
The quieter it gets

in Harley's head.

[cunning music]
This is it.

Now begins
the Harlequinade.

- Folks, it's mayhem.
[crash]

Hard to see through the smoke.

- The Central City pitcher
seems afraid

to come off the mound.

- And Swat Fleischacker
seems dazed.

- What's going on down there?
- [Harley giggles]

- Well, Lou, I think
he just got hit in the head

by a female clown.

- That is what's happening,
Stiv.

A female clown is going
absolutely Gashouse Gorilla

on the slugger
with his own bat!

[thunking, giggling]
Well, I think we can call

the hitting streak
at 59 games, Stiv.

Swat is not gonna play
the next game.

[fireworks explode, whistle]

- The bulk of the crowd
is now on the field

detonating expl*sives,

and at least one hot dog cart
is on fire, Lou.

- Okay, there's definitely
a propane tank

on board there, Stiv.
Gonna need

to monitor that closely,
but first...

[thunk]
Oh, boy, the clown has

thoroughly tenderized
Swat Fleischacker...

- [laughs maniacally]
- And has now turned her fury

on Speedy the Demon Dog.

- The Central City mascot
desperate to find

a place to hide
from a bat-swinging madwoman.

- For God's sake,
she's gaining on you!

Run, Speedy!
[Speedy barks]

Oh, but not behind
the burning hot dog cart.

- No! Get out of there,
you crazy mutt!

It's gonna--
[expl*si*n]

[hot dogs splattering]

narrator: The dog is gone.

In his place,
a gentle rain of sausages.

[laughs maniacally]

narrator: Thus concludes
the Harlequinade.

An irreverent intermission

amidst life and death
in Gotham City.

[soft footfalls]

Where are we now?

Practically nowhere.

We're so deep inside your mind
now, Bruce,

it's miles in every direction.

And I thought your house was
ridiculously big and empty.

Hello!
[rustling]

Was that a tumbleweed?
[giggles] Classic.

You know in the cowboy movies
when the good guy is

just a little bitty speck
on a horse

in the middle of a huge desert,
and his canteen is empty,

and then he loses his horse?

You just lost your horse,
Kemosabe.

Why is it so empty?

- Well, this is
where normal people keep

happy memories, Bruce.

You know, loving and laughing
and learning a little something

along the way?

The stuff that makes us human.

So, uh...you do the math.

- You lie.
- It's easy math, Bruce.

- It's a lot of zeroes.
- That's not true.

Alfred. Robin.
Jim Gordon. Harvey Dent.

- These are not zeroes.
- No, okay, Harvey's a 0.5.

Come on, Brucie,
don't kid yourself.

I'll add it up for you.

Bruce Wayne died
in the alley with his parents.

What lived on is
a bitter and sadistic bag

of barely adequate
coping mechanisms.

- [growls]
- [giggles]

Couldn't have said it
better myself.

Look, I'm sure
this all made sense

when you were ten years old.

You know, the Batmobile
and the Bat-computer--

the whole plan must have seemed

like a totally reasonable way
to deal with grief.

But now you're nothing
but a broken man

who has tailored his fear
into a mask to hide behind.

What a sad spectacle.

And, girlfriend,
I am here for it.

- [giggles]
- Wait.

That laughter.

That glee.

- Who are you, really?
- Huh?

I'm the Bat-Mite, chief.

Don't you read "The Gazette"?

Don't you own "The Gazette"?

- You're not
a newspaper cartoon.

You don't want me to know
who you really are.

- What are you even
talking about?

Brucie, you're on drugs.

Like, literally,
you're on drugs.

- You mock my mask,
but you wear one too.

- What are you hiding?
- [giggles maniacally]

Oh, Brucie.

Sigh.

What a letdown.

I thought for sure
you would have guessed by now.

No idea who's behind the mask?

No idea who's taken up

permanent residency
in your head?

No clue about the fear

that motivates
everything you do?

Take off the mask.

Aww, don't you want to guess?

I am ridicule and delirium.

[clown horn honks]
I'm malicious humor.

[splat]
I am depraved indifference

to reason.
[spring recoils]

Ring any bells?
[cowbells clang]

- Take off the mask.
- Oh, come on, Bruce.

You should know this one.

I'm all you can ever
think about.



[distorted cackling]

[elastic stretches, snaps]

- You.
- No, you!

Don't you get it?
[laughs]

I'm you, Bruce.

Except I know I'm insane.
[laughs]

That's why you wear
the mask, Bruce.

Because you can't bear
to look at your own face

in the mirror.

Nothing scares you more.

'Cause if you ever scrounged up
the courage

to look at your own
true reflection, you know...

[cackles]

You would see the Joker
staring back at you.

♪ Two of a kind ♪

♪ Two in a million ♪

♪ Twice can be nice
or double the trouble ♪

♪ Ain't we a pair-- ♪

No.

No sale.

- Huh?
- You're wrong.

The mask isn't my fear.

It's yours. It's theirs.

Any who prey on the weak.

If I have to sacrifice
my humanity to safeguard

that of the innocent people
of Gotham,

this does not scare me.

But yes, I feel fear.

To live is to feel fear.

The will to live is
just fear of death.

- Hey now, Brucie,
let's keep it frosty.

- Yes, fear is
my constant companion.

I felt the power of my fear
that night in the alley.

I felt it clench like a fist
in my chest.

A fist of fear.

- I'm sensing
I pushed you too hard.

Let's--[smack]
[groans]

- But then I learned
to strike with it.

[thumping]
Now that fist cracks bones

and loosens teeth.

- [smack]
- [laughs, grunts]

Don't you know...
[chuckles, groans]

You can beat me,

but you're just causing
yourself pain.

- And don't you know
that's how I win.

My pain is your pain.

[thumping, grunting]
My fear is your fear.

[grunting, laughing]

[buzzing crescendos]

- [gasps]
[wood splintering]

[heart monitor beeping]
[panting]

Call home.

[implant trills]
Alfred, can you hear--

- Master Bruce.
- Alfred, good.

My implant
is still transmitting.

I don't know
how long I've been out.

I'm in a hospital bed
somewhere.

Unguarded, but--

- Sir, you must come back
at once.

It's Two-Face.

[yelling indistinctly]

[g*nshots]

- [dial tone]
- Alfred?

- A chaotic scene
at Gaslamp Stadium

and the probable end
of the Gaslamps' season.

[muttering indistinctly]

- This package arrived
for you, sir.

- Wha--
[package thumps]

- It is from Mr. Frenchy Blake
and Mr. Maxie Zeus, sir.

Security opened downstairs.

And I'm to open it now?

- It was delivered
with urgency, sir.

[tape ripping, paper crinkling]

- Hmm.
[birds squawking]

Do you know what this is,
Mr. DeCondor?

- It is difficult to identify
with confidence, sir.

Indeed it is.

Especially when it's in
this many bloody pieces.

It is a penguin, Mr. DeCondor.

A dead penguin.

- I have already prepared
the downstairs meat locker

to receive guests, sir.

Who shall I bring to you first?

Mr. Zeus or Mr. Blake?

No, Mr. DeCondor.

We're beyond that now.
[birds squawking]

This isn't an insult
that's answered

with a few broken thumbs.

This is mutiny.

They think
they perceive weakness?

I'll give them a show of force.

I don't want
their spirits broken.

I want their spirits
burned alive

in a ceramics kiln.

I want their defiance
reduced to greasy ashes.

I want the flames of hell

imported directly
from the source.

- Do you mean--
- Yes, Mr. DeCondor.

Extend an invitation
to the Santa Priscan cartel.

Tell them
I'm prepared to negotiate

their expansion
into Gotham City

in exchange for a little help

reestablishing
the rightful order

in the underworld.

[laughs]

narrator: Life and death
in Gotham City.

Epilogue.
[door clicks open]

- Alfred? Harvey?
Robin, come in. Do you copy?

- narrator: The house is empty.
- [on TV] ♪ Gotham City One ♪

narrator:
Where are Alfred and Harvey?

Where is Robin?

And where is the Scarecrow?

- And now it's time
for the Midnight Movie Matinee

with your host, the Creeper.

Tonight's feature,
"Dread Castle,"

starring Julie Madison and--
[static buzzes]

Not tonight, Gotham City.

Tonight, the Scarecrow
is running the spook house.

And tonight's movie is
very, very special.

Gather up the kiddies.

- This is cinema history.
- Oh, no.

For the first time ever,

I present "The Second Skin,"

starring the great
Basil Karlo.

I guarantee when you feast
your eyes on this,

you're gonna want to feast
on your eyes. [chuckles]

narrator:
Life and death in Gotham City.

To be continued in part two.

[jazz music]

♪ ♪