03x04 - The Sport of Penguins
Posted: 08/01/22 07:02
NARRATOR: Gotham
Park Racetrack...
the day before the Bruce Wayne
Foundation Memorial Handicap...
where two fancy fillies
are meeting the press:
A high-spirited horse and
her proud-spirited mistress.
PHOTOGRAPHER: Can you say "cheese," baby?
- It's not "baby."
It's Lola Lasagne.
- Señora Lola Lasagne.
- Can you get that nag to crack a smile?
If you're referring to my prize-winning filly with
that wonderful white stripe on her forehead...
she'd much rather
be called Parasol.
A most appropriate
name, I believe.
Haven't you got the corner on
the world's supply of shower sticks?
Shower sticks? You must mean
my famous collection of parasols.
Hold this.
Priceless, you know.
Shape up, Parasol.
Looks and your legs
are all we've got left.
NARRATOR: But what's this strange
bird doing in the royal surroundings...
of a queen of the turf
and the sport of kings?
[PENGUIN QUACKING]
You waddling bird.
[SCREECHING]
[GLASS SHATTERING]
Ah...
[QUACKING]
[MUTTERING]
What is this?
You can't just barge in here...
cut open a locked case, and
walk off with a priceless folio...
- of famous parasols.
- Why not?
Among other
things, it's a felony.
Faugh, I'm a tax-paying
citizen and this is a public library.
That shouldn't have been
locked in the first place.
I'm gonna call the police.
- Your beloved father, I presume?
- Exactly.
[PENGUIN CHUCKLES]
Stay where you are. I'm
putting you under citizen's arrest.
A tax-paying
citizen's arrest, I hope.
Dad, Barbara.
The Penguin just waddled in
here, cut open a locked case...
and tried to waddle off with...
[PENGUIN CHUCKLES]
Just a minute.
[TICKING]
He's gone. But he left an umbrella
in the umbrella stand and it's...
Ticking? Ticking?
The umbrella handle is ticking.
Holy time b*mb. Lucky
we happened to be here.
Boy Wonder, you took
the words out of me mouth.
Tell her not to
remove the umbrella.
Penguin will want to escape alive, which
should give us time to get there. Come, Robin.
Batman and Robin are on their way now,
Barbara. You better leave there quickly.
Leave the library?
Dad, I'm not going to let a ticking
umbrella handle frighten me off my job.
If you say so, but don't
touch that umbrella.
Brazen bird.
I'll wager there's a
connection between this...
and that parasol he stole from
Lola Lasagne today at the racetrack.
You wager, Chief O'Hara?
A public servant and
upstanding chief of police betting?
Uh, can I call it a
hunch, commissioner?
Well, with the Dynamic Duo on our
side, I think "hunch" is most appropriate.
Haven't you some Anti-Percussion
Asbestos Bat-flax in your utility belt?
No time for that now, Robin.
Let's get this offending
article out into the corridor...
and under the Bat-b*mb Machine.
[expl*si*n]
No need for concern, Miss
Gordon. Just a practical joke.
Well, some practical joke.
The umbrella handle was
loaded with expl*sives.
And you say Penguin left
it in the umbrella stand...
because you prevented his stealing
a priceless folio from a locked case?
Yes, of famous parasols.
Ah. Hardly a reason for an
attempt on your life, Miss Gordon.
You may remember he once
tried to force me to marry him.
BATMAN: Ah...
- Gosh, yes.
But thanks to Batgirl, that
wedding never took place.
Yes, thanks to Batgirl. Hm.
And I can understand a man like
Penguin harboring jealousy and revenge...
but m*rder and locked cases...
priceless parasols,
famous folios...
- Wanna give the Batcomputer a
crack at it? BATMAN: Good idea, Robin.
NARRATOR: While in
Penguin's Bookshop...
or to be more accurate,
Penguin's bookmaking shop...
[PHONE RINGS]
Penguin's Bookshop.
Yeah, Apricot Soup
in the sixth at Pimlico.
Ten grand on the nose.
You got it, Frankie.
[QUACKING]
- Ten grand for Frankie.
- Right, Penguin.
Ha-ha.
I received a note. I might find
my priceless stolen parasol here.
It's not as
priceless as all that.
A little research has
proved to me that it is a fake.
Just as you are a
fake, Lulu Schultz.
And I didn't need any
research to prove that. Ha-ha!
- Lulu Schultz?
- Mm.
I am Señora Lola Lasagne.
Horse feathers, Lulu.
I knew you back when.
I knew you when you'd steal
the braces from other kids' teeth.
- While you stole their teeth.
- Ha!
But you're still
very clever, Pengy.
I thought I had the
whole world fooled.
Now, now, what about the other
Parasol, the four-legged one?
Is that also a fake?
Do you mean my prize-winning
filly with the white stripe...
- in the middle of her forehead?
- Eh.
That's the only thing I have to show for my
three weeks of marriage to Luigi Lasagne.
What? The billionaire
South American playboy?
Not exactly a playboy, Pengy.
- Luigi's almost 80.
- Oh...
Instead of dying, as any adoring
young wife might reasonably expect...
- he divorced me.
- Ah.
Can you imagine? He
thought I was after his money.
Ooh, what slander. Faugh.
And that stingy old judge.
- All he gave me was one horse.
- Ew.
Yes. Why, I even had to sell my
real priceless collection of parasols...
- for eating money.
- Mm-mm.
But if my horse, Parasol, should win
the Bruce Wayne Handicap tomorrow...
think of the purse.
What purse? It's an empty purse.
All the proceeds in that race go to
the Bruce Wayne Memorial Foundation.
I think we've given the
Batcomputer sufficient time...
and a thorough
enough dusting, Alfred.
[BATCOMPUTER WHIRRING
THEN BELL DINGS]
It must have heard you.
"Umbrella, parasol.
A sunshade coming under the general category
of covering, such as veiling, curtaining...
- blanketing..."
- Blanketing.
Blanketing. That may be the
clue we've been looking for.
Wet blanket. Blanket of snow.
ALFRED: Or perhaps something
in the bedding department.
An eiderdown or counterpane.
No, I doubt it very much,
Alfred. Blanket, blanket...
Wet blanket.
Blanket of snow.
Plaid blanket. Horse...
Horse blanket.
Of course, Parasol is the name of a horse
entered in the Bruce Wayne Handicap...
by Señora Lola Lasagne.
[BATCOMPUTER WHIRRING
THEN BELL DINGS]
Look, the Bat-correction Signal.
"Lulu Schultz."
Lola Lasagne must
be a pseudonym.
- That's a sticky one.
- Sticky.
Paste, mucilage, glue...
Gluten.
[BATCOMPUTER WHIRRING
THEN BELL DINGS]
Another card.
"Glu Gluten's Glue Factory."
We start out with parasols
and come up with a glue factory.
- Holy non sequiturs.
- I don't think so, Robin.
We all know that we're dealing with
a devious bird of prey in the Penguin.
And we certainly know, sir, that the
Batcomputer is above any practical joke.
So?
So now that night has fallen...
I propose that we pay an unexpected
visit to Glu Gluten's Glue Factory.
Remain alert, Alfred.
Who knows what trouble
we may run into? Robin.
You can depend on me, sir.
[TIRES SCREECHING]
[DIALING]
[PHONE RINGS]
- Hello? ALFRED [OVER
PHONE]: Miss Gordon?
Oh, hello.
I've just heard that Batman and Robin have
taken off for Glu Gluten's Glue Factory...
on an errand of deep mystery.
- I thought you might be interested.
- Well, yes, I am.
But how did you hear of it?
Erm, actually, I overheard it.
The Dynamic Duo were to be dinner
guests at stately Wayne Manor tonight.
Now, their tricky mission...
- could concern you, Miss Gordon.
- Me?
Yes. It seems
that, uh, Penguin...
his exploding umbrella and a
rare book on parasols are involved.
Thank you. I
appreciate the tip, Alfred.
And, as always, your secrecy.
Charlie, I thought I was going to
spend a quiet evening with you.
Instead, I'm off to Glu
Gluten's Glue Factory.
[SQUAWKS]
NARRATOR: Once more, from Barbara Gordon,
librarian and police commissioner's daughter...
to that dominoed daredoll
Batgirl in a matter of seconds.
Well, so I'll give up the
purse. I can still keep the cash.
- Parasol would win as the favorite.
- Yes...
but favorites is paid
peanuts. You know that, Lulu.
Oh, wait a minute.
What if Parasol
wasn't the favorite?
Wasn't?
Yes, what if we had another
horse that looked like Parasol...
and we put him in the same race?
And then took my horse and a
dab of paint and a new name...
[BOTH LAUGHING]
We're working on the same
wicked wavelength, huh, Lulu?
Here, hold that a minute.
[PENGUIN LAUGHING]
- What's that?
- It is a radio.
I did a little research at the
library and left a souvenir.
I wanna see if it's
exploded yet. Ha!
- Exploded?
- Yeah.
You're still up to your
naughty little tricks, aren't you?
That's right. Come on, come on.
MAN [ON RADIO]: And thus the Dynamic Duo
really earned their name this afternoon...
when they successfully detonated a b*mb
ingeniously planted in an umbrella handle...
at the Gotham Library.
And now for the...
The dynamic dunderheads.
Faugh. Double
faugh. Triple faugh.
Why are you so anxious
to b*mb the library?
No, not the library,
somebody in the library.
Somebody who had the miserable taste
to turn down an offer of marriage from me.
You, Pengy, scorned by a woman?
- It's incredible, isn't it?
- Yes.
Well, let's get back
to the horse-switching.
Before those caped crumbums
get on my tailpiece again.
Hey, you feathered
finks, let's go.
NARRATOR: But even as the Dynamic
Duo head for their dubious destination...
and Batgirl zooms through the night
for her own surprise appearance...
in Glu Gluten's Glue Factory,
Penguin and Lola are completing a deal.
Or trying to.
You're out of print,
buddy. Dead as a dodo.
- The parade has passed you by.
- Faugh.
Look, glue isn't made out of
horses' hoofs anymore, you know.
- Then what's that horse doing here?
- Horse?
Yes, this four-legged
thing with a long nose.
Oh, this horse. Well, you see, I always keep
a spare one here just in case of an emergency.
Well, we'd like to buy it.
If you're not gonna use it for
glue, how about making a deal?
- What's the deal?
- The usual.
Nothing down
and a little a week.
Nothing down? What
kind of a deal is that?
Why, you're out of print, buddy.
Dead as a dodo. The
parade has passed you by.
Don't you know anything about the
economic structure of this country?
It's always nothing down and a
little a week. That is the cornerstone...
of our financial security.
- How little a week?
- Which week?
They're making a deal in
a glue factory for a horse.
Mm. What can we do?
What's illegal about buying
a horse in a glue factory?
Something, all right, or
Penguin wouldn't be in on it.
But planting a time b*mb
in a public library is a felony.
Come on. Let's nail him.
Drat. Double drat. Triple drat.
- Expletives will get you nowhere.
- Except back in the cooler.
The cooler? Because I was
conducting a little private business?
No, because you've been
misconducting some public business.
Like bombing libraries.
Faugh, that was
a whimsical prank.
What other whimsical pranks are you
and your charming conspiratress up to?
You do have a way
with words, Batman.
They wanna buy a horse.
Señora Lola Lasagne, the
owner of that fine filly, Parasol?
- Well, you see, I...
- Cool it, Lulu.
Now, grab that nag and
paint a stripe on his forehead...
and make the switch at the track.
I'll meet you back at the bookshop.
Hey, I ain't got a deal.
A deal?
You've got a full house.
Armband, Visor, you
other finks, attack!
[PENGUIN QUACKING]
Batman!
Batman!
Batman!
Batman!
Come along, little Pengy.
Faugh, struck out by Batgirl.
[MUTTERING]
- Good show.
- Gosh, Batman, they sure hit the tape.
They certainly did, old chum.
We usually don't need
help with our fights, Batgirl.
But this time your presence
is certainly appreciated.
Oh, thank you. I couldn't
ask for a greater compliment.
Oh, but the Penguin got away.
I'm sorry.
We'll get him back.
I certainly hope so.
I pray for the day when Gotham City's
safe from such mocking mountebanks.
[MUTTERING]
Cleaning up crime is the dream
of every good citizen, Batgirl.
But one thought intrigues me.
How did you know Robin and I might be in
trouble with Penguin in this glue factory?
Through the one thing you couldn't
possibly have in your utility belt, Batman.
A woman's intuition.
[MUTTERING]
ROBIN: What are we
gonna do about these g*ons?
I'd say their fate
is sealed, Robin.
At least for the present.
Perhaps we should offer
Batgirl a ride back to the ci...
She's gone.
Like a shadow.
Like smoke.
Like a sh**ting star.
Who knows where she goes?
Who knows where she comes from?
Who knows who she is?
- Let's try to catch her.
- No, Robin.
We must allow her her anonymity and
freedom of action as we demand ours.
Whatever is fair in love and
w*r is also fair in crime-fighting.
And there's something...
Something very sinister about
Penguin and Lulu Schultz...
trying to find another horse
the same color as Parasol.
To the Batcave.
Nothing down, nothing a week.
A nothing factory.
What a deal.
Courage, Robin.
We'll get that slippery bird.
[GRUNTING]
Holy mucilage.
Yes, Robin, things are
getting even stickier.
[PENGUIN LAUGHING]
You pulled it off, Lulu.
You switched bangtails at the track,
and this hay burner is the real palooka.
The real Parasol, Pengy.
And I wish you wouldn't call her a
bangtail, a hay burner or a palooka.
And the refugee from the glue
factory is in Parasol's stall, right?
With a beautiful white stripe right
down the middle of her forehead.
I combined my pancake makeup,
my eye shadow, my eyebrow pencil...
my lipstick, my nail polish
and some elbow grease.
Let's hope the elbow grease
is the right color. Ha-ha!
- Nobody got wise?
- Of course not.
After all, I am
Señora Lola Lasagne.
Besides, nobody saw me.
That's right. Yes, yes, you're the great horse.
We're gonna give you a nice new paint job...
and give you a nice name.
What about Bumbershoot, huh?
You'll be the most famous
and richest long shot in history.
- Ha!
- Just one thing worries me, Pengy.
How is our long shot
gonna pay a big price...
if everybody bets on the other
horse they think is Parasol?
Because all our money
will be on Bumbershoot.
What money?
Well, let's say
Bumbershoot pays 100-to-1...
that means we'll make
$200 for a $2 ticket.
- But that takes $2.
- Yes, Lulu.
And we should have $10,000
down on Bumbershoot.
- That's a nice round figure.
- But where's it all coming from?
Don't you have any old
family heirlooms you can pawn?
I told you, Pengy, my old
family heirloom divorced me.
That's right. And you've sold
all your priceless parasols, hm?
They weren't as
priceless as I thought.
Priceless parasols.
What about a priceless
folio of famous parasols?
Yeah, what about it?
There's one at the library.
If it's that priceless, I can get a
good price for it on the black market.
Ha-ha. And after all, you
are in the book business.
Well, sort of.
Pengy...
- you're a genius.
- Yes.
Go get it, right now.
No, no. The library
isn't open yet.
Since when has that
ever stopped you?
That's right, it never has and it
never will. I'll go there right now.
You go and paint
up Bumbershoot...
and I'll go and try to snatch a
folio of famous, priceless parasols.
[PENGUIN QUACKING]
NARRATOR: Is Lola right?
Can't Penguin be stopped?
Is he really stealing a priceless
folio to finance his crooked coup...
with the Dynamic Duo pasted to the
Batmobile outside the glue factory?
And Barbara Gordon,
minus Batgirl's trappings...
asleep in her apartment?
Or is she?
[ALARM CHIMING]
Dad, Barbara. I'm sorry to be
calling you so early in the morning...
but the Emergency Library
Prowler Signal just rang.
I'm sorry we
worried you, Alfred.
But even the Batmobile's Library
Paste Bat-dissolving Switch got stuck.
[BEEPING]
Look, Batman, the red phone.
NARRATOR: But
are they all too late?
Will Penguin and Lola succeed in pulling off
the foulest race-fixing scheme of all time?
For more, tune in
the next episode.
Park Racetrack...
the day before the Bruce Wayne
Foundation Memorial Handicap...
where two fancy fillies
are meeting the press:
A high-spirited horse and
her proud-spirited mistress.
PHOTOGRAPHER: Can you say "cheese," baby?
- It's not "baby."
It's Lola Lasagne.
- Señora Lola Lasagne.
- Can you get that nag to crack a smile?
If you're referring to my prize-winning filly with
that wonderful white stripe on her forehead...
she'd much rather
be called Parasol.
A most appropriate
name, I believe.
Haven't you got the corner on
the world's supply of shower sticks?
Shower sticks? You must mean
my famous collection of parasols.
Hold this.
Priceless, you know.
Shape up, Parasol.
Looks and your legs
are all we've got left.
NARRATOR: But what's this strange
bird doing in the royal surroundings...
of a queen of the turf
and the sport of kings?
[PENGUIN QUACKING]
You waddling bird.
[SCREECHING]
[GLASS SHATTERING]
Ah...
[QUACKING]
[MUTTERING]
What is this?
You can't just barge in here...
cut open a locked case, and
walk off with a priceless folio...
- of famous parasols.
- Why not?
Among other
things, it's a felony.
Faugh, I'm a tax-paying
citizen and this is a public library.
That shouldn't have been
locked in the first place.
I'm gonna call the police.
- Your beloved father, I presume?
- Exactly.
[PENGUIN CHUCKLES]
Stay where you are. I'm
putting you under citizen's arrest.
A tax-paying
citizen's arrest, I hope.
Dad, Barbara.
The Penguin just waddled in
here, cut open a locked case...
and tried to waddle off with...
[PENGUIN CHUCKLES]
Just a minute.
[TICKING]
He's gone. But he left an umbrella
in the umbrella stand and it's...
Ticking? Ticking?
The umbrella handle is ticking.
Holy time b*mb. Lucky
we happened to be here.
Boy Wonder, you took
the words out of me mouth.
Tell her not to
remove the umbrella.
Penguin will want to escape alive, which
should give us time to get there. Come, Robin.
Batman and Robin are on their way now,
Barbara. You better leave there quickly.
Leave the library?
Dad, I'm not going to let a ticking
umbrella handle frighten me off my job.
If you say so, but don't
touch that umbrella.
Brazen bird.
I'll wager there's a
connection between this...
and that parasol he stole from
Lola Lasagne today at the racetrack.
You wager, Chief O'Hara?
A public servant and
upstanding chief of police betting?
Uh, can I call it a
hunch, commissioner?
Well, with the Dynamic Duo on our
side, I think "hunch" is most appropriate.
Haven't you some Anti-Percussion
Asbestos Bat-flax in your utility belt?
No time for that now, Robin.
Let's get this offending
article out into the corridor...
and under the Bat-b*mb Machine.
[expl*si*n]
No need for concern, Miss
Gordon. Just a practical joke.
Well, some practical joke.
The umbrella handle was
loaded with expl*sives.
And you say Penguin left
it in the umbrella stand...
because you prevented his stealing
a priceless folio from a locked case?
Yes, of famous parasols.
Ah. Hardly a reason for an
attempt on your life, Miss Gordon.
You may remember he once
tried to force me to marry him.
BATMAN: Ah...
- Gosh, yes.
But thanks to Batgirl, that
wedding never took place.
Yes, thanks to Batgirl. Hm.
And I can understand a man like
Penguin harboring jealousy and revenge...
but m*rder and locked cases...
priceless parasols,
famous folios...
- Wanna give the Batcomputer a
crack at it? BATMAN: Good idea, Robin.
NARRATOR: While in
Penguin's Bookshop...
or to be more accurate,
Penguin's bookmaking shop...
[PHONE RINGS]
Penguin's Bookshop.
Yeah, Apricot Soup
in the sixth at Pimlico.
Ten grand on the nose.
You got it, Frankie.
[QUACKING]
- Ten grand for Frankie.
- Right, Penguin.
Ha-ha.
I received a note. I might find
my priceless stolen parasol here.
It's not as
priceless as all that.
A little research has
proved to me that it is a fake.
Just as you are a
fake, Lulu Schultz.
And I didn't need any
research to prove that. Ha-ha!
- Lulu Schultz?
- Mm.
I am Señora Lola Lasagne.
Horse feathers, Lulu.
I knew you back when.
I knew you when you'd steal
the braces from other kids' teeth.
- While you stole their teeth.
- Ha!
But you're still
very clever, Pengy.
I thought I had the
whole world fooled.
Now, now, what about the other
Parasol, the four-legged one?
Is that also a fake?
Do you mean my prize-winning
filly with the white stripe...
- in the middle of her forehead?
- Eh.
That's the only thing I have to show for my
three weeks of marriage to Luigi Lasagne.
What? The billionaire
South American playboy?
Not exactly a playboy, Pengy.
- Luigi's almost 80.
- Oh...
Instead of dying, as any adoring
young wife might reasonably expect...
- he divorced me.
- Ah.
Can you imagine? He
thought I was after his money.
Ooh, what slander. Faugh.
And that stingy old judge.
- All he gave me was one horse.
- Ew.
Yes. Why, I even had to sell my
real priceless collection of parasols...
- for eating money.
- Mm-mm.
But if my horse, Parasol, should win
the Bruce Wayne Handicap tomorrow...
think of the purse.
What purse? It's an empty purse.
All the proceeds in that race go to
the Bruce Wayne Memorial Foundation.
I think we've given the
Batcomputer sufficient time...
and a thorough
enough dusting, Alfred.
[BATCOMPUTER WHIRRING
THEN BELL DINGS]
It must have heard you.
"Umbrella, parasol.
A sunshade coming under the general category
of covering, such as veiling, curtaining...
- blanketing..."
- Blanketing.
Blanketing. That may be the
clue we've been looking for.
Wet blanket. Blanket of snow.
ALFRED: Or perhaps something
in the bedding department.
An eiderdown or counterpane.
No, I doubt it very much,
Alfred. Blanket, blanket...
Wet blanket.
Blanket of snow.
Plaid blanket. Horse...
Horse blanket.
Of course, Parasol is the name of a horse
entered in the Bruce Wayne Handicap...
by Señora Lola Lasagne.
[BATCOMPUTER WHIRRING
THEN BELL DINGS]
Look, the Bat-correction Signal.
"Lulu Schultz."
Lola Lasagne must
be a pseudonym.
- That's a sticky one.
- Sticky.
Paste, mucilage, glue...
Gluten.
[BATCOMPUTER WHIRRING
THEN BELL DINGS]
Another card.
"Glu Gluten's Glue Factory."
We start out with parasols
and come up with a glue factory.
- Holy non sequiturs.
- I don't think so, Robin.
We all know that we're dealing with
a devious bird of prey in the Penguin.
And we certainly know, sir, that the
Batcomputer is above any practical joke.
So?
So now that night has fallen...
I propose that we pay an unexpected
visit to Glu Gluten's Glue Factory.
Remain alert, Alfred.
Who knows what trouble
we may run into? Robin.
You can depend on me, sir.
[TIRES SCREECHING]
[DIALING]
[PHONE RINGS]
- Hello? ALFRED [OVER
PHONE]: Miss Gordon?
Oh, hello.
I've just heard that Batman and Robin have
taken off for Glu Gluten's Glue Factory...
on an errand of deep mystery.
- I thought you might be interested.
- Well, yes, I am.
But how did you hear of it?
Erm, actually, I overheard it.
The Dynamic Duo were to be dinner
guests at stately Wayne Manor tonight.
Now, their tricky mission...
- could concern you, Miss Gordon.
- Me?
Yes. It seems
that, uh, Penguin...
his exploding umbrella and a
rare book on parasols are involved.
Thank you. I
appreciate the tip, Alfred.
And, as always, your secrecy.
Charlie, I thought I was going to
spend a quiet evening with you.
Instead, I'm off to Glu
Gluten's Glue Factory.
[SQUAWKS]
NARRATOR: Once more, from Barbara Gordon,
librarian and police commissioner's daughter...
to that dominoed daredoll
Batgirl in a matter of seconds.
Well, so I'll give up the
purse. I can still keep the cash.
- Parasol would win as the favorite.
- Yes...
but favorites is paid
peanuts. You know that, Lulu.
Oh, wait a minute.
What if Parasol
wasn't the favorite?
Wasn't?
Yes, what if we had another
horse that looked like Parasol...
and we put him in the same race?
And then took my horse and a
dab of paint and a new name...
[BOTH LAUGHING]
We're working on the same
wicked wavelength, huh, Lulu?
Here, hold that a minute.
[PENGUIN LAUGHING]
- What's that?
- It is a radio.
I did a little research at the
library and left a souvenir.
I wanna see if it's
exploded yet. Ha!
- Exploded?
- Yeah.
You're still up to your
naughty little tricks, aren't you?
That's right. Come on, come on.
MAN [ON RADIO]: And thus the Dynamic Duo
really earned their name this afternoon...
when they successfully detonated a b*mb
ingeniously planted in an umbrella handle...
at the Gotham Library.
And now for the...
The dynamic dunderheads.
Faugh. Double
faugh. Triple faugh.
Why are you so anxious
to b*mb the library?
No, not the library,
somebody in the library.
Somebody who had the miserable taste
to turn down an offer of marriage from me.
You, Pengy, scorned by a woman?
- It's incredible, isn't it?
- Yes.
Well, let's get back
to the horse-switching.
Before those caped crumbums
get on my tailpiece again.
Hey, you feathered
finks, let's go.
NARRATOR: But even as the Dynamic
Duo head for their dubious destination...
and Batgirl zooms through the night
for her own surprise appearance...
in Glu Gluten's Glue Factory,
Penguin and Lola are completing a deal.
Or trying to.
You're out of print,
buddy. Dead as a dodo.
- The parade has passed you by.
- Faugh.
Look, glue isn't made out of
horses' hoofs anymore, you know.
- Then what's that horse doing here?
- Horse?
Yes, this four-legged
thing with a long nose.
Oh, this horse. Well, you see, I always keep
a spare one here just in case of an emergency.
Well, we'd like to buy it.
If you're not gonna use it for
glue, how about making a deal?
- What's the deal?
- The usual.
Nothing down
and a little a week.
Nothing down? What
kind of a deal is that?
Why, you're out of print, buddy.
Dead as a dodo. The
parade has passed you by.
Don't you know anything about the
economic structure of this country?
It's always nothing down and a
little a week. That is the cornerstone...
of our financial security.
- How little a week?
- Which week?
They're making a deal in
a glue factory for a horse.
Mm. What can we do?
What's illegal about buying
a horse in a glue factory?
Something, all right, or
Penguin wouldn't be in on it.
But planting a time b*mb
in a public library is a felony.
Come on. Let's nail him.
Drat. Double drat. Triple drat.
- Expletives will get you nowhere.
- Except back in the cooler.
The cooler? Because I was
conducting a little private business?
No, because you've been
misconducting some public business.
Like bombing libraries.
Faugh, that was
a whimsical prank.
What other whimsical pranks are you
and your charming conspiratress up to?
You do have a way
with words, Batman.
They wanna buy a horse.
Señora Lola Lasagne, the
owner of that fine filly, Parasol?
- Well, you see, I...
- Cool it, Lulu.
Now, grab that nag and
paint a stripe on his forehead...
and make the switch at the track.
I'll meet you back at the bookshop.
Hey, I ain't got a deal.
A deal?
You've got a full house.
Armband, Visor, you
other finks, attack!
[PENGUIN QUACKING]
Batman!
Batman!
Batman!
Batman!
Come along, little Pengy.
Faugh, struck out by Batgirl.
[MUTTERING]
- Good show.
- Gosh, Batman, they sure hit the tape.
They certainly did, old chum.
We usually don't need
help with our fights, Batgirl.
But this time your presence
is certainly appreciated.
Oh, thank you. I couldn't
ask for a greater compliment.
Oh, but the Penguin got away.
I'm sorry.
We'll get him back.
I certainly hope so.
I pray for the day when Gotham City's
safe from such mocking mountebanks.
[MUTTERING]
Cleaning up crime is the dream
of every good citizen, Batgirl.
But one thought intrigues me.
How did you know Robin and I might be in
trouble with Penguin in this glue factory?
Through the one thing you couldn't
possibly have in your utility belt, Batman.
A woman's intuition.
[MUTTERING]
ROBIN: What are we
gonna do about these g*ons?
I'd say their fate
is sealed, Robin.
At least for the present.
Perhaps we should offer
Batgirl a ride back to the ci...
She's gone.
Like a shadow.
Like smoke.
Like a sh**ting star.
Who knows where she goes?
Who knows where she comes from?
Who knows who she is?
- Let's try to catch her.
- No, Robin.
We must allow her her anonymity and
freedom of action as we demand ours.
Whatever is fair in love and
w*r is also fair in crime-fighting.
And there's something...
Something very sinister about
Penguin and Lulu Schultz...
trying to find another horse
the same color as Parasol.
To the Batcave.
Nothing down, nothing a week.
A nothing factory.
What a deal.
Courage, Robin.
We'll get that slippery bird.
[GRUNTING]
Holy mucilage.
Yes, Robin, things are
getting even stickier.
[PENGUIN LAUGHING]
You pulled it off, Lulu.
You switched bangtails at the track,
and this hay burner is the real palooka.
The real Parasol, Pengy.
And I wish you wouldn't call her a
bangtail, a hay burner or a palooka.
And the refugee from the glue
factory is in Parasol's stall, right?
With a beautiful white stripe right
down the middle of her forehead.
I combined my pancake makeup,
my eye shadow, my eyebrow pencil...
my lipstick, my nail polish
and some elbow grease.
Let's hope the elbow grease
is the right color. Ha-ha!
- Nobody got wise?
- Of course not.
After all, I am
Señora Lola Lasagne.
Besides, nobody saw me.
That's right. Yes, yes, you're the great horse.
We're gonna give you a nice new paint job...
and give you a nice name.
What about Bumbershoot, huh?
You'll be the most famous
and richest long shot in history.
- Ha!
- Just one thing worries me, Pengy.
How is our long shot
gonna pay a big price...
if everybody bets on the other
horse they think is Parasol?
Because all our money
will be on Bumbershoot.
What money?
Well, let's say
Bumbershoot pays 100-to-1...
that means we'll make
$200 for a $2 ticket.
- But that takes $2.
- Yes, Lulu.
And we should have $10,000
down on Bumbershoot.
- That's a nice round figure.
- But where's it all coming from?
Don't you have any old
family heirlooms you can pawn?
I told you, Pengy, my old
family heirloom divorced me.
That's right. And you've sold
all your priceless parasols, hm?
They weren't as
priceless as I thought.
Priceless parasols.
What about a priceless
folio of famous parasols?
Yeah, what about it?
There's one at the library.
If it's that priceless, I can get a
good price for it on the black market.
Ha-ha. And after all, you
are in the book business.
Well, sort of.
Pengy...
- you're a genius.
- Yes.
Go get it, right now.
No, no. The library
isn't open yet.
Since when has that
ever stopped you?
That's right, it never has and it
never will. I'll go there right now.
You go and paint
up Bumbershoot...
and I'll go and try to snatch a
folio of famous, priceless parasols.
[PENGUIN QUACKING]
NARRATOR: Is Lola right?
Can't Penguin be stopped?
Is he really stealing a priceless
folio to finance his crooked coup...
with the Dynamic Duo pasted to the
Batmobile outside the glue factory?
And Barbara Gordon,
minus Batgirl's trappings...
asleep in her apartment?
Or is she?
[ALARM CHIMING]
Dad, Barbara. I'm sorry to be
calling you so early in the morning...
but the Emergency Library
Prowler Signal just rang.
I'm sorry we
worried you, Alfred.
But even the Batmobile's Library
Paste Bat-dissolving Switch got stuck.
[BEEPING]
Look, Batman, the red phone.
NARRATOR: But
are they all too late?
Will Penguin and Lola succeed in pulling off
the foulest race-fixing scheme of all time?
For more, tune in
the next episode.