Batman (1966–1968): Season 1, Episode 1 - Hi Diddle Riddle - full transcript
The Riddler leaves a clue at a Moldavian reception at the Gotham City World's Fair. Batman and Robin are summoned and are on the villain's trail. But he tricks them; the heroes think he's committing a robbery with a handgun. In reality, the gun is a cigarette lighter (the answer to one of the Riddler's riddles). Now, the villain is suing Batman, where he will be forced to reveal his true identity in court. The heroes, still convinced the Riddler is planning a major crime, travel to a discotheque. There, Batman is drugged by Molly, one of the Riddler's confederates, while Robin is kidnapped. Robin appears to be in great danger as the episode ends.
Thank you, dear peoples.
Thank you, everyone.
Now, in conclusion, on behalf of
my country, Moldavia, land of charm...
it's such pleasure to unveil for you
Moldavia's greatest national treasure...
behind me on platform.
But first, a small ceremony.
What are you leering at?
Oh!
This traditional Moldavian
friendship cake, dear peoples...
which I will now chop
for you in the name of...
Hey, look. Look what
shot from that cake.
"Why is an orange like a bell?"
You know what this
means, don't you?
The Riddler.
Right, Chief
O'Hara. The Riddler.
That infernal prince of puzzlers
who's outwitted us a dozen times.
What about it, men? O'Hara?
Inspector Bash? Any of you
think you can handle him?
I don't know who he is behind that mask
of his, but I do know when we need him.
And we need him now.
I'll call him, sir.
We're in luck, he's at home.
My resources are
behind you, in full.
- You're a real champion, Mr. Wayne.
- Indeed you are.
Don't mention it, Mr. Harris. Perhaps
if there'd been anti-crimes centers...
of the type you now propose, when my own
parents were murdered by dastardly criminals...
Yes, Alfred?
The Batphone, sir.
Forgive me. I'm just reminded I'd promised
to take my young ward, Dick Grayson, fishing.
- If you'll excuse me.
- Be a pleasure working with you, sir.
It's wonderful knowing
you're behind it.
Oh, there you are, Dick.
Feel like a bit of fishing?
Holy barracuda. You mean...?
Sure, Bruce, why not? Sounds
swell. Doesn't it, Aunt Harriett?
- Yes, commissioner?
- You'll never guess who's on the loose.
Your old archenemy, the Riddler.
- Good heavens.
- Him again.
- Can you come to headquarters right away?
- It'll be a pleasure, Commissioner Gordon.
Atomic batteries to
power. Turbines to speed.
Clear. Ready to move out.
"Why is an orange like a bell?"
Answer, because they
both must me peeled.
Right. You peel an orange
and you peal a bell. Get it?
What idiots we are. Now, why
couldn't we have worked that out?
- But what does it mean though?
- Right, commissioner, there's the problem.
We all know how this
quizzical criminal operates.
He deliberately leaves
clues to confound us.
Clues which may or may not
lead to the real crime he's planning.
- The real crime?
- Precisely, Inspector Bash.
The Riddler contrives
his plots like artichokes.
You have to strip off spiny
leaves to reach the heart.
But, surely, Batman, there must be some
sort of political plot against Moldavia.
- That exploding cake.
- A mere ruse, commissioner.
A clever device to
make you call me in.
But why? Why would he want
that? You're his deadly nemesis.
The Riddler's mind is twisted.
Crime's no fun for him
unless it means outwitting us.
Robin's right.
He has a strange
artistic compulsion to...
Artistic, that's it.
The meaning of the first
clue, the Peale Art Gallery.
Of course. It's a storehouse
of priceless art treasures.
Just the Riddler's meat.
Call your boys. Stakeout that Peale
Art Gallery like you would a circus tent.
Yes, sir.
Not so fast, men. Wait.
The Riddler's up
to something tricky.
Better let us handle this.
It smells like a trap.
Let's mosey up the back way.
Batman speaking.
This is a recording.
Before you trip over your
cape, Batman, riddle me this...
there are three men in a boat
with four cigarettes but no matches.
How do they manage
to smoke? Hmm?
The Riddler.
- What the heck's he trying to tell us?
- I don't know.
Let's go up and ask him.
Stand clear.
- You go first. I'll anchor you.
- Roger.
Gosh, if I could just
figure out that riddle.
Why can't I get it?
Maybe your mind's on that cute little teenager
who waved to you on the way across town, eh?
Aw, come on, Batman.
Got him red-handed.
Watch it, chum.
Pedestrian safety.
Oh, sure. Sorry.
Hold it, Riddler.
The game's up, Riddler.
As a duly deputized agent of the law, I
place you under arrest for armed robbery.
- Snap on the Bat-cuffs.
- You've got me, Batman.
- What the...?
- Ha-ha-ha!
It's too delicious. I
even gave you a tip-off.
Batman, you've made a mistake.
- He didn't steal that cross.
- What?
I tell you, it belongs to him.
He lent it to me for a show.
But, Mr. Peale, we saw him
take it from you at gunpoint.
Gunpoint?
Holy ashtray. He did tip us off.
There were three men in a boat
with four cigarettes and no matches.
How did they manage to smoke?
They threw one cigarette overboard
and made the boat a cigarette lighter.
You saw him giving me a
light as I handed back his cross.
Out-riddled.
I thought you might be, Batman.
That's why I brought
witnesses with cameras. Ho, ho!
What is it that no man wants to
have, yet no man wants to lose?
- A lawsuit.
- Correct, Boy Wonder.
How I've waited for this.
It makes my whole
life worthwhile.
After you've chewed over this
one for a while, look for two more.
Adios, amigos. See you in court.
According to legal experts,
the $1 million lawsuit...
filed this morning against Batman
for assault, slander and false arrest...
appears to have every
chance of success.
Causing even greater dismay
in law enforcement circles...
is the fact that Batman will undoubtedly
have to reveal his true identity in court.
- Once unmasked, it is feared...
- Turn it off.
No longer will the Caped
Crusader and his youthful aide...
be able to combat
crime in Gotham City.
Find anything?
Looks black as pitch, Dick.
I've been through all
my father's old law books.
I don't see we have
a leg to stand on.
A million dollars.
It's not the money,
Alfred. It's the idea of it.
My identity revealed...
my value as a secret
crime fighter ended...
everything I've trained myself for
since my parents were murdered...
in the ash can,
gone, up the chute.
Well, sir, I do hope
something can be worked out.
If poor Mrs. Cooper were to find out
what Master Dick has been doing...
on these supposed
fishing trips of yours...
- Listen, Bruce, I have an idea.
- Yes?
Remember what the Riddler said
when he slipped you this paper?
"When you've chewed over
this one, look for two others."
- What do you guess he meant?
- Two other riddles, of course.
Exactly, and where can we look?
What do we have in our possession
which the Riddler gave us?
Great Scott, Dick.
Could there be secret
writing on this document?
To the Batcave.
Look, between the lines.
"When is the time of a clock
like the whistle of a train?"
When it's two to 2.
Toot-toot-toot!
Right you are.
Here comes another one.
"What has neither
flesh, bone nor nail...
yet has four fingers
and a thumb?"
- A glove, of course.
- Could it be an address?
- I've got it. 222 Glover Avenue.
- You've done it again, chum.
Let's just hope
we're not too late.
Meanwhile, in an abandoned subway
tool room deep under Gotham City...
the secret headquarters of
the infamous Molehill Mob.
Watch them fish eggs,
Molly. They're full of calories.
You'll blow up like a balloon.
Who cares? I'm hungry.
I care. Get fat, you won't be able to
get through the manholes anymore.
Then what use will you be?
Stop that ridiculous bickering.
Batman's had time
to solve the clue.
Hurry, into the tunnel.
What foul trickery are the fiendish Riddler
and his evil Molehill Mob up to now?
Odd, the new discotheque.
What's Riddler's game?
Hold up the wealthy patrons?
Could be, it's the favorite
haunt of high society.
Sorry, Batman, I'm
afraid the boy is underage.
It's the law.
Very odd. This could
be a plot to separate us.
I can take care of myself,
Batman. You go inside.
- I'll pull into the lot and watch in the Batscope.
- All right.
Thanks. Robin will take it.
Gleeps! It's Batman.
Anything I can do for
you, sir? Check your cape?
Ringside table, Batman?
Just looking, thanks. I'll stand at the
bar. I shouldn't wish to attract attention.
- A large fresh orange juice please.
- Yes, sir.
Looking for a friend?
Maybe you can help
me. I've got a problem.
Why is a quarrel like a bargain?
Well, well, what master
taught you to riddle?
The answer is, it
takes two to make it...
like beautiful music,
like the dance.
Shall we?
Your orange juice,
sir. Batman special.
- What's your name?
- Molly.
You interest me, strangely.
I accept your invitation.
You shake a pretty
mean cape, Batman.
It's nothing. It's...
It's...
Yes?
Well, I... My drink...
Doped.
Dividend, I'll take
the Batmobile too.
- What about Molly and me?
- The manhole, stupid.
That thing's alive.
Every copper in town
will see them fireworks.
Quickly, the kid. Grab the kid.
Can't take the dratted
thing, I'll burn it up.
Curses. It's got
more lives than a cat.
Come on.
Officers, out of my
way. They've got Robin.
Out of my way, I said.
I've gotta go after Robin.
Hand me the key, Batman. I'm
afraid you're in no condition to drive.
Yes, of course, officer.
You're entirely correct.
Look.
The Bat-Signal from the roof of city hall.
The commissioner's trying to call Batman.
In his shape,
kinder not to tell him.
Where have they got Robin?
Roll him on the
table. Strap him down.
- Moll.
- Yes, doctor.
At last.
At last, Boy Wonder Robin.
At last, Boy Wonder Robin...
you and the Caped
Crusader both...
are set for the final bow.
Thank you, everyone.
Now, in conclusion, on behalf of
my country, Moldavia, land of charm...
it's such pleasure to unveil for you
Moldavia's greatest national treasure...
behind me on platform.
But first, a small ceremony.
What are you leering at?
Oh!
This traditional Moldavian
friendship cake, dear peoples...
which I will now chop
for you in the name of...
Hey, look. Look what
shot from that cake.
"Why is an orange like a bell?"
You know what this
means, don't you?
The Riddler.
Right, Chief
O'Hara. The Riddler.
That infernal prince of puzzlers
who's outwitted us a dozen times.
What about it, men? O'Hara?
Inspector Bash? Any of you
think you can handle him?
I don't know who he is behind that mask
of his, but I do know when we need him.
And we need him now.
I'll call him, sir.
We're in luck, he's at home.
My resources are
behind you, in full.
- You're a real champion, Mr. Wayne.
- Indeed you are.
Don't mention it, Mr. Harris. Perhaps
if there'd been anti-crimes centers...
of the type you now propose, when my own
parents were murdered by dastardly criminals...
Yes, Alfred?
The Batphone, sir.
Forgive me. I'm just reminded I'd promised
to take my young ward, Dick Grayson, fishing.
- If you'll excuse me.
- Be a pleasure working with you, sir.
It's wonderful knowing
you're behind it.
Oh, there you are, Dick.
Feel like a bit of fishing?
Holy barracuda. You mean...?
Sure, Bruce, why not? Sounds
swell. Doesn't it, Aunt Harriett?
- Yes, commissioner?
- You'll never guess who's on the loose.
Your old archenemy, the Riddler.
- Good heavens.
- Him again.
- Can you come to headquarters right away?
- It'll be a pleasure, Commissioner Gordon.
Atomic batteries to
power. Turbines to speed.
Clear. Ready to move out.
"Why is an orange like a bell?"
Answer, because they
both must me peeled.
Right. You peel an orange
and you peal a bell. Get it?
What idiots we are. Now, why
couldn't we have worked that out?
- But what does it mean though?
- Right, commissioner, there's the problem.
We all know how this
quizzical criminal operates.
He deliberately leaves
clues to confound us.
Clues which may or may not
lead to the real crime he's planning.
- The real crime?
- Precisely, Inspector Bash.
The Riddler contrives
his plots like artichokes.
You have to strip off spiny
leaves to reach the heart.
But, surely, Batman, there must be some
sort of political plot against Moldavia.
- That exploding cake.
- A mere ruse, commissioner.
A clever device to
make you call me in.
But why? Why would he want
that? You're his deadly nemesis.
The Riddler's mind is twisted.
Crime's no fun for him
unless it means outwitting us.
Robin's right.
He has a strange
artistic compulsion to...
Artistic, that's it.
The meaning of the first
clue, the Peale Art Gallery.
Of course. It's a storehouse
of priceless art treasures.
Just the Riddler's meat.
Call your boys. Stakeout that Peale
Art Gallery like you would a circus tent.
Yes, sir.
Not so fast, men. Wait.
The Riddler's up
to something tricky.
Better let us handle this.
It smells like a trap.
Let's mosey up the back way.
Batman speaking.
This is a recording.
Before you trip over your
cape, Batman, riddle me this...
there are three men in a boat
with four cigarettes but no matches.
How do they manage
to smoke? Hmm?
The Riddler.
- What the heck's he trying to tell us?
- I don't know.
Let's go up and ask him.
Stand clear.
- You go first. I'll anchor you.
- Roger.
Gosh, if I could just
figure out that riddle.
Why can't I get it?
Maybe your mind's on that cute little teenager
who waved to you on the way across town, eh?
Aw, come on, Batman.
Got him red-handed.
Watch it, chum.
Pedestrian safety.
Oh, sure. Sorry.
Hold it, Riddler.
The game's up, Riddler.
As a duly deputized agent of the law, I
place you under arrest for armed robbery.
- Snap on the Bat-cuffs.
- You've got me, Batman.
- What the...?
- Ha-ha-ha!
It's too delicious. I
even gave you a tip-off.
Batman, you've made a mistake.
- He didn't steal that cross.
- What?
I tell you, it belongs to him.
He lent it to me for a show.
But, Mr. Peale, we saw him
take it from you at gunpoint.
Gunpoint?
Holy ashtray. He did tip us off.
There were three men in a boat
with four cigarettes and no matches.
How did they manage to smoke?
They threw one cigarette overboard
and made the boat a cigarette lighter.
You saw him giving me a
light as I handed back his cross.
Out-riddled.
I thought you might be, Batman.
That's why I brought
witnesses with cameras. Ho, ho!
What is it that no man wants to
have, yet no man wants to lose?
- A lawsuit.
- Correct, Boy Wonder.
How I've waited for this.
It makes my whole
life worthwhile.
After you've chewed over this
one for a while, look for two more.
Adios, amigos. See you in court.
According to legal experts,
the $1 million lawsuit...
filed this morning against Batman
for assault, slander and false arrest...
appears to have every
chance of success.
Causing even greater dismay
in law enforcement circles...
is the fact that Batman will undoubtedly
have to reveal his true identity in court.
- Once unmasked, it is feared...
- Turn it off.
No longer will the Caped
Crusader and his youthful aide...
be able to combat
crime in Gotham City.
Find anything?
Looks black as pitch, Dick.
I've been through all
my father's old law books.
I don't see we have
a leg to stand on.
A million dollars.
It's not the money,
Alfred. It's the idea of it.
My identity revealed...
my value as a secret
crime fighter ended...
everything I've trained myself for
since my parents were murdered...
in the ash can,
gone, up the chute.
Well, sir, I do hope
something can be worked out.
If poor Mrs. Cooper were to find out
what Master Dick has been doing...
on these supposed
fishing trips of yours...
- Listen, Bruce, I have an idea.
- Yes?
Remember what the Riddler said
when he slipped you this paper?
"When you've chewed over
this one, look for two others."
- What do you guess he meant?
- Two other riddles, of course.
Exactly, and where can we look?
What do we have in our possession
which the Riddler gave us?
Great Scott, Dick.
Could there be secret
writing on this document?
To the Batcave.
Look, between the lines.
"When is the time of a clock
like the whistle of a train?"
When it's two to 2.
Toot-toot-toot!
Right you are.
Here comes another one.
"What has neither
flesh, bone nor nail...
yet has four fingers
and a thumb?"
- A glove, of course.
- Could it be an address?
- I've got it. 222 Glover Avenue.
- You've done it again, chum.
Let's just hope
we're not too late.
Meanwhile, in an abandoned subway
tool room deep under Gotham City...
the secret headquarters of
the infamous Molehill Mob.
Watch them fish eggs,
Molly. They're full of calories.
You'll blow up like a balloon.
Who cares? I'm hungry.
I care. Get fat, you won't be able to
get through the manholes anymore.
Then what use will you be?
Stop that ridiculous bickering.
Batman's had time
to solve the clue.
Hurry, into the tunnel.
What foul trickery are the fiendish Riddler
and his evil Molehill Mob up to now?
Odd, the new discotheque.
What's Riddler's game?
Hold up the wealthy patrons?
Could be, it's the favorite
haunt of high society.
Sorry, Batman, I'm
afraid the boy is underage.
It's the law.
Very odd. This could
be a plot to separate us.
I can take care of myself,
Batman. You go inside.
- I'll pull into the lot and watch in the Batscope.
- All right.
Thanks. Robin will take it.
Gleeps! It's Batman.
Anything I can do for
you, sir? Check your cape?
Ringside table, Batman?
Just looking, thanks. I'll stand at the
bar. I shouldn't wish to attract attention.
- A large fresh orange juice please.
- Yes, sir.
Looking for a friend?
Maybe you can help
me. I've got a problem.
Why is a quarrel like a bargain?
Well, well, what master
taught you to riddle?
The answer is, it
takes two to make it...
like beautiful music,
like the dance.
Shall we?
Your orange juice,
sir. Batman special.
- What's your name?
- Molly.
You interest me, strangely.
I accept your invitation.
You shake a pretty
mean cape, Batman.
It's nothing. It's...
It's...
Yes?
Well, I... My drink...
Doped.
Dividend, I'll take
the Batmobile too.
- What about Molly and me?
- The manhole, stupid.
That thing's alive.
Every copper in town
will see them fireworks.
Quickly, the kid. Grab the kid.
Can't take the dratted
thing, I'll burn it up.
Curses. It's got
more lives than a cat.
Come on.
Officers, out of my
way. They've got Robin.
Out of my way, I said.
I've gotta go after Robin.
Hand me the key, Batman. I'm
afraid you're in no condition to drive.
Yes, of course, officer.
You're entirely correct.
Look.
The Bat-Signal from the roof of city hall.
The commissioner's trying to call Batman.
In his shape,
kinder not to tell him.
Where have they got Robin?
Roll him on the
table. Strap him down.
- Moll.
- Yes, doctor.
At last.
At last, Boy Wonder Robin.
At last, Boy Wonder Robin...
you and the Caped
Crusader both...
are set for the final bow.