Batman (1966–1968): Season 1, Episode 15 - The Joker Goes to School - full transcript
At Woodrow Roosevelt High School, a vending machine gives out money. Dick Grayson is there to witness it. Batman learns the vending machines are operated by a company bought by the Joker after being released from prison. The Joker and his gang are aided by Susie, a cheerleader at the school. In the course of their investigation, Batman and Robin are captured and placed in electric chairs. If a "one armed bandit" comes up the wrong way, they'll be electrocuted.
Gotham City, Woodrow
Roosevelt High School.
Three-oh-nine p.m.
Normal healthy activity
in the school gymnasium.
- You got it memorized?
- Think so.
Okay, let's go.
And zing-boom-sis-boom-bah
We're from Woodrow
Roosevelt That's who we are
Does anybody scare
us? The answer is nix
Come on, team Let's make it six
- That was great. Great.
- Okay.
Gosh, Susie, terrific.
- Did you write it yourself?
- Oh, heck, no.
Ms. Browning, our
poetry professor.
- Let's take a break, gang. Anyone for a drink?
- Me.
Holy cow. Look, silver dollars.
Let me try.
Hey, kids, everyone. Come
on. It's Christmas. Look, heh.
Silver dollars.
A strange, disturbing bonanza
from a gimmick milk machine.
Either of you men
fear what I fear?
- The Joker?
- Exactly, Chief O'Hara, the Joker.
That most pestilent of predators,
the Clown Prince of Crime.
This smells like an
opening gambit of his.
That devil.
- But how can we be sure?
- We can't. Not yet.
But if it's the Joker
we're facing...
and his plot is aimed at Gotham
City youth, we can't wait to be sure.
This, if there ever was one, is a case
for our unknown friend behind the mask.
And in Wayne Manor...
stately residence of millionaire
socialite Bruce Wayne...
and his young ward, Dick Grayson,
whom we just saw at school:
Please, Bruce, I beg you. Accept
the proposal. Run for mayor.
It's funny. They come to you with
the same offer every two years.
You'd think they'd get it through
their heads you're not interested.
I'm afraid she's
right, Mr. Vandergilt.
You see, the good works
of my Wayne Foundation...
require that I stay above
the brawl of politics.
But Gotham City needs you.
Think of our problems.
The snarl of traffic, a water shortage,
and now these recurrent power failures.
How can you turn us down?
What is it, Alfred?
Nothing of importance, madam.
- It's the Batphone, sir.
- Thank you, Alfred, for reminding me.
I'll tell you what,
Mr. Vandergilt.
I'll ponder it and give
you my answer tomorrow.
Aunt Harriet, give Mr. Vandergilt
some more tea, will you?
He'll ponder it? That's strange.
What's he got to ponder?
- Yes, commissioner.
- Prepare yourself for a blow.
Someone has struck at
Woodrow Roosevelt High.
We think it's the Joker.
Good grief. I'm on my way.
Dick's in the thick of this already. If he
phones in, tell him to stay where he is.
- Very good, sir.
- The switch, Alfred.
Good luck, sir.
Looks sinister, doesn't it?
"Joker released from
jail one week ago...
immediately buys control of
One-Armed Bandit Novelty Company."
Makers of coin-operated gadgets.
Gum machines, pin balls,
that sort of harmless junk.
There's nothing harmless
about the Joker. We all know that.
Or about a machine which
returns 20 silver dollars for a dime.
What about the men who
install the machine and service it?
Clean as driven snow, Batman. And
they're even more surprised than we are.
It's open-and-shut. Somebody got to that
poor innocent machine and gimmicked it.
But why? In the
devil's name, why?
I can make a guess.
Yes?
Oh, thank you, Bonnie. Put
him on the conference phone.
It's Principal Schoolfield,
Woodrow Roosevelt High.
- Commissioner Gordon?
- Speaking.
Another machine has
gone mad, in the library.
Instead of candy bars, it's dispensing
negotiable stocks and bonds.
To put it mildly, student
morale is cracking up.
Schoolfield. This is Batman
here. Do you hear me?
Ah, yes. Hello, Batman.
Who's the president
of your student council?
A boy named Grayson,
a Richard Grayson.
- A fine lad.
- I'm glad to hear it.
Have him call a meeting in
your office. I'll be right there.
I'll have him waiting
for you. Goodbye.
- I think my guess was right.
- What, Batman?
No time to lose.
Chief O'Hara, get me a
visual ID file on the Joker.
- Meet me at the Batmobile.
- Yes, sir.
I mean, like look, Dickie.
So everyone's goofing off.
- So why shouldn't they?
- It's quite true.
The purpose of our studies is to
equip us to make our way in life.
If, on the other hand, one has
merely to insert a dime in a machine...
He's right. Why go
through all that study?
For crying out loud. I'm
surprised at you guys.
We're meant to
be student leaders.
Susie, what do you say?
I say, has anyone tried
Mr. Schoolfield's coffee machine?
Hey, not bad for old
Schoolfield. Quarters. Look.
- Hey, not bad, eh?
- How about that?
Wise up, you guys.
Life isn't this easy.
That's easy for you to say. You're
the ward of that rich millionaire.
- That has nothing to do with it.
- Hey, gang, cut it out. Here comes Batman.
- Robin. He's here.
- It's Batman.
Sorry, kids. Stay back.
Sorry, Robin isn't with me.
This Batmobile is filled with
delicate anti-crime equipment.
You might set off the
automatic antitheft system.
Nobody closer
than 50 feet, please.
Hey, Batman, where's Robin?
- Attending school just as you are.
- What school?
I can't tell you that. It might
reveal his secret true identity.
And listen, if anyone hears a
sharp beep, let me know at once.
It'll be the Batphone ringing
with an important message.
And even as Batman
races into the school...
across town in a
fashionable little bistro:
The joke's on you, my cheery
boozehounds. It's a stickup.
Hands up. You're covered.
Thanks, folks. The
party will now resume.
Believe me, this may
look like a party, but it's not.
There's a crook
behind these handouts.
- What's his angle?
- He may have several.
One is to lure you into a
deceptive pattern of easy living.
You'll quit your studies,
become dropouts.
You'll have no other recourse
but to join criminal groups.
Batman's right. It's
sort of recruiting drive.
Sure, he's right.
What'd I tell you?
- Can you corroborate this odd hypothesis?
- Yeah, Batman. Like, what's the crook's name?
I can do better than that. I
can show you his picture.
- What's your name, son?
- Richard Grayson, sir.
Thank you, Richard. You darken
the room. I'll man the projector.
Roger.
Here it is,
everybody. The Joker.
Don't be deceived
by that grin, anyone.
He's one of the most malevolent
malefactors we've ever met.
- I'll bet he's a master of makeup too.
- You're right, he is.
He might be skulking around here
in any one of 50 outrageous outfits.
For example, here's another one.
Get a little closer, kids.
I want you to see that phony
flower in his button hole.
Sometimes, it shoots out
water, sometimes powder...
other times knockout gas.
- Hey.
- Holy magician.
Hello, kiddies. Meet the Joker.
No hard feelings.
- Corny, aren't I?
- Joker, what are you doing here?
Oh, just passing by.
I heard my name...
and I couldn't resist shooting a jolly jet
through the tiny perforation in that screen.
Just passing by,
huh? To do what?
Gimmick another
innocent vending machine?
Oh, there must be bats
in your belfry, Batman.
Has anyone found
fingerprints or other evidence?
You're too smart
for that, Joker.
Hey, Batman, nab him anyway.
Loitering on school property.
Right. Five-thousand dollars
fine and five years' imprisonment.
Ha, ha. No. Wrong, kiddies.
Look up the statute. In Gotham
City, the crime of loitering...
requires the loiterer to remain in
the same spot for over two minutes.
You... You jailhouse lawyer.
The tricky trickster,
he's outwitting us.
Ooh, dear me. The court
jester must run, jest in time.
Well, goodbye, kiddies. And
remember, I was here, eh?
What an odd parting remark.
Yeah. Why'd he want us
to remember he was here?
From the lips of a crook,
it can mean only one thing.
- Establishing an alibi.
- Right.
Gee whiz. Alibi for what?
The Batphone signal. Batman!
Hey, Batman, it's your Batphone.
The Batphone, Batman.
- What now, commissioner?
- Another strike.
A cocktail lounge. A gimmick
jukebox. It must be the Joker.
We'll never make it
stick. He has an alibi.
- Maybe we can break it.
- Impossible. The alibi is me.
What? You?
Forget it. Give me the address.
I'll race to the scene of the crime.
Right. Goodbye.
Batman, sir.
You forgot your box of slides.
Good lad. Bring it over.
Fake a headache. Speed
home. Wait for me in the Batcave.
You're welcome, sir.
Boys and girls, go back to your studies.
Believe me, nothing in life is free.
Scarcely 5 00 yards away, behind
this innocent-seeming candy store...
an abandoned garage, now
headquarters of the Joker...
and his current gang the Bad Pennies,
high-school dropouts most of them.
- It's a pretty good haul, isn't it?
- Peanuts, my boy. Mere peanuts.
That bar job was just a pot-boiling
appetizer for the real feast.
Ho, ho! What an
inspired stroke of mine...
buying up the One-Armed
Bandit Novelty Company. Ah.
Plunder by remote control.
Hey, Joker. I think I got this one
rigged. Come and have a look.
- Put it all away.
- Right.
Set to go off on
the third strike?
Yeah, and I got two
strikes rung up already.
Ho, ho! Here we go.
Sensational. It's a gas.
It won't be colored smoke in a
bar, it'll be your knockout stuff.
- You've done it again, Two Bits.
- Thanks.
A timely reminder.
Crime can be shocking.
Someone's trying the
bubble-gum machine.
Hi, gang.
Ah, sweet Sue, shiniest
of my Bad Pennies.
Boy, Joker, you sure are some card,
popping out at school like that at Batman.
Wondrously whimsical, wasn't it?
It was real crazy,
if you asked me.
I might have fainted and
given the whole game away.
However, you didn't.
- Ah! I see you have the stuff.
- Of course.
- Any trouble getting it?
- Heck, no.
Like I told you, being chief cheerleader
puts me on the student council.
Once you're on that, you
can get away with anything.
Ho, ho! Let's see.
Hands off. Not until I get paid.
Trusting little
wench, aren't you?
I'm a crook,
Joker, just like you.
Now, where's the payoff?
- Hi there, lamb chop. You busy tonight?
- You lowlife, get away from me.
- Now, look here, baby. I have plans...
- Are you stupid or something?
The reason I've taken up crime is so I can
get a taste of the finer things in life.
- Yeah...
- Now, beat it.
Ha, ha. Shut your
eyes, sweet Susie.
Oh, yeah? And get an exploding
cigar in my ear? No thanks.
You mischievous bobette.
Shut your eyes, I said.
A rhinestone bracelet...
a fox-fur stole...
and one full quart of
imported Mexican perfume.
Oh. Oh, gee, Joker.
I'm sorry I sassed you.
Why, this is like
some lovely dream.
Ah, perfect. Stolen right
from Schoolfield's safe...
the keycard to my
malevolent machinations.
- Well, what is it, Joker?
- Look, you boobs. Look and laugh.
Examination papers.
X plus Y times X plus Y.
Holy alphabet. What is it?
- If you'll excuse me, Master Robin.
- Yes, Alfred?
The solution is, uh, X squared
plus 2XY plus Y squared.
Gee, sure. Why
didn't I know that?
And with nationwide pre-college
exams coming up in just three days.
Good to have you home, sir.
- What'd you find out, Batman?
- Nothing.
Holy vacuum. Not a single clue?
We don't need clues, Robin.
We know our man is the Joker.
What we need is evidence.
I went over that looted
lounge with a fine-tooth comb.
I didn't even find a
single hair to analyze.
Gosh, and school
morale in a tailspin.
A month from now there'll
be dropouts by the bushel.
- If he waits that long.
- Huh?
I didn't want to cause panic
at that student meeting...
but I think the Joker has some
other dirty plan afoot as well.
- Like what?
- I don't know.
But I think it involves gimmicked
machines and Woodrow Roosevelt High.
Gee, if we just knew
how he gets in to fix them.
You've guessed it,
Robin. Our next move.
- Stake out the school.
- Right again. Let's go.
Hello, hello? Give me the sign.
How do you stop a
dog from barking in July?
Countersign: Shoot him in
June. Very good. Ha-ha-ha.
Joker, listen. Batman and Robin
just drove into the parking lot.
What? The Dynamic
Duo at the school?
That's right, Joker. What'll
I do? Take it on the lam?
No, no, no, listen.
Oh, ha-ha-ha.
Thank heavens for my
delicious sense of humor.
You have your
crooked keys, don't you?
- Natch.
- All right, sweet Sue.
Find Key 17. Do
exactly as I tell you.
- Gain level set.
- Okay.
Set the antitheft
systems. Let's go.
- Susie.
- Oh. Wow, am I ever glad to see you two.
Oh?
Just now, I saw a suspicious
character in the gym.
- Quick, run to safety.
- We'll take care of him.
Wait, Batman. Look, that
machine, it's been tampered with.
This might be tricky.
Get out your Batarang.
I'll slip in a dime.
Holy ball and chain.
Quick, let's get out
our cutting tools.
Oh. Knockout gas.
Twelve-and-one-half minutes
later inside this curious vehicle:
It's all hooked up, boss.
- Fifty-thousand volts from the city main.
- Good.
Gosh, Joker. This sure is some
crazy mixed-up moving van.
One of the assets of the One-Armed
Bandit Novelty Company, my dear.
Built for a whimsical
Caribbean dictator.
Happily for us, if not for the
Dynamic Duo, deposed before delivery.
- Oh, they're waking up.
- Careful now, my dimpled darling.
No names. I'll speak to them
through this trick microphone...
that disguises our voices.
Oh, what a ball.
Holy Las Vegas. Where are we?
In a strange kind of
game room, Boy Blunder.
- Do you see the machine next to you?
- Right.
It's going to spin around
merrily and merrily.
What's the payoff?
Three Liberty Bells: Your
freedom, and $50,000 cash.
Three oranges:
Your freedom only.
And if it's three lemons? Which the
percentages say is the more likely.
Fifty-thousand volts of electrifying
electricity, my fettered fatman.
Automatically on
the third lemon.
- Holy fruit salad.
- Sorry, I don't approve of gambling.
Enough, my captured
Caped Crusaders.
I guarantee this machine is
fair. So let the game commence.
Roosevelt High School.
Three-oh-nine p.m.
Normal healthy activity
in the school gymnasium.
- You got it memorized?
- Think so.
Okay, let's go.
And zing-boom-sis-boom-bah
We're from Woodrow
Roosevelt That's who we are
Does anybody scare
us? The answer is nix
Come on, team Let's make it six
- That was great. Great.
- Okay.
Gosh, Susie, terrific.
- Did you write it yourself?
- Oh, heck, no.
Ms. Browning, our
poetry professor.
- Let's take a break, gang. Anyone for a drink?
- Me.
Holy cow. Look, silver dollars.
Let me try.
Hey, kids, everyone. Come
on. It's Christmas. Look, heh.
Silver dollars.
A strange, disturbing bonanza
from a gimmick milk machine.
Either of you men
fear what I fear?
- The Joker?
- Exactly, Chief O'Hara, the Joker.
That most pestilent of predators,
the Clown Prince of Crime.
This smells like an
opening gambit of his.
That devil.
- But how can we be sure?
- We can't. Not yet.
But if it's the Joker
we're facing...
and his plot is aimed at Gotham
City youth, we can't wait to be sure.
This, if there ever was one, is a case
for our unknown friend behind the mask.
And in Wayne Manor...
stately residence of millionaire
socialite Bruce Wayne...
and his young ward, Dick Grayson,
whom we just saw at school:
Please, Bruce, I beg you. Accept
the proposal. Run for mayor.
It's funny. They come to you with
the same offer every two years.
You'd think they'd get it through
their heads you're not interested.
I'm afraid she's
right, Mr. Vandergilt.
You see, the good works
of my Wayne Foundation...
require that I stay above
the brawl of politics.
But Gotham City needs you.
Think of our problems.
The snarl of traffic, a water shortage,
and now these recurrent power failures.
How can you turn us down?
What is it, Alfred?
Nothing of importance, madam.
- It's the Batphone, sir.
- Thank you, Alfred, for reminding me.
I'll tell you what,
Mr. Vandergilt.
I'll ponder it and give
you my answer tomorrow.
Aunt Harriet, give Mr. Vandergilt
some more tea, will you?
He'll ponder it? That's strange.
What's he got to ponder?
- Yes, commissioner.
- Prepare yourself for a blow.
Someone has struck at
Woodrow Roosevelt High.
We think it's the Joker.
Good grief. I'm on my way.
Dick's in the thick of this already. If he
phones in, tell him to stay where he is.
- Very good, sir.
- The switch, Alfred.
Good luck, sir.
Looks sinister, doesn't it?
"Joker released from
jail one week ago...
immediately buys control of
One-Armed Bandit Novelty Company."
Makers of coin-operated gadgets.
Gum machines, pin balls,
that sort of harmless junk.
There's nothing harmless
about the Joker. We all know that.
Or about a machine which
returns 20 silver dollars for a dime.
What about the men who
install the machine and service it?
Clean as driven snow, Batman. And
they're even more surprised than we are.
It's open-and-shut. Somebody got to that
poor innocent machine and gimmicked it.
But why? In the
devil's name, why?
I can make a guess.
Yes?
Oh, thank you, Bonnie. Put
him on the conference phone.
It's Principal Schoolfield,
Woodrow Roosevelt High.
- Commissioner Gordon?
- Speaking.
Another machine has
gone mad, in the library.
Instead of candy bars, it's dispensing
negotiable stocks and bonds.
To put it mildly, student
morale is cracking up.
Schoolfield. This is Batman
here. Do you hear me?
Ah, yes. Hello, Batman.
Who's the president
of your student council?
A boy named Grayson,
a Richard Grayson.
- A fine lad.
- I'm glad to hear it.
Have him call a meeting in
your office. I'll be right there.
I'll have him waiting
for you. Goodbye.
- I think my guess was right.
- What, Batman?
No time to lose.
Chief O'Hara, get me a
visual ID file on the Joker.
- Meet me at the Batmobile.
- Yes, sir.
I mean, like look, Dickie.
So everyone's goofing off.
- So why shouldn't they?
- It's quite true.
The purpose of our studies is to
equip us to make our way in life.
If, on the other hand, one has
merely to insert a dime in a machine...
He's right. Why go
through all that study?
For crying out loud. I'm
surprised at you guys.
We're meant to
be student leaders.
Susie, what do you say?
I say, has anyone tried
Mr. Schoolfield's coffee machine?
Hey, not bad for old
Schoolfield. Quarters. Look.
- Hey, not bad, eh?
- How about that?
Wise up, you guys.
Life isn't this easy.
That's easy for you to say. You're
the ward of that rich millionaire.
- That has nothing to do with it.
- Hey, gang, cut it out. Here comes Batman.
- Robin. He's here.
- It's Batman.
Sorry, kids. Stay back.
Sorry, Robin isn't with me.
This Batmobile is filled with
delicate anti-crime equipment.
You might set off the
automatic antitheft system.
Nobody closer
than 50 feet, please.
Hey, Batman, where's Robin?
- Attending school just as you are.
- What school?
I can't tell you that. It might
reveal his secret true identity.
And listen, if anyone hears a
sharp beep, let me know at once.
It'll be the Batphone ringing
with an important message.
And even as Batman
races into the school...
across town in a
fashionable little bistro:
The joke's on you, my cheery
boozehounds. It's a stickup.
Hands up. You're covered.
Thanks, folks. The
party will now resume.
Believe me, this may
look like a party, but it's not.
There's a crook
behind these handouts.
- What's his angle?
- He may have several.
One is to lure you into a
deceptive pattern of easy living.
You'll quit your studies,
become dropouts.
You'll have no other recourse
but to join criminal groups.
Batman's right. It's
sort of recruiting drive.
Sure, he's right.
What'd I tell you?
- Can you corroborate this odd hypothesis?
- Yeah, Batman. Like, what's the crook's name?
I can do better than that. I
can show you his picture.
- What's your name, son?
- Richard Grayson, sir.
Thank you, Richard. You darken
the room. I'll man the projector.
Roger.
Here it is,
everybody. The Joker.
Don't be deceived
by that grin, anyone.
He's one of the most malevolent
malefactors we've ever met.
- I'll bet he's a master of makeup too.
- You're right, he is.
He might be skulking around here
in any one of 50 outrageous outfits.
For example, here's another one.
Get a little closer, kids.
I want you to see that phony
flower in his button hole.
Sometimes, it shoots out
water, sometimes powder...
other times knockout gas.
- Hey.
- Holy magician.
Hello, kiddies. Meet the Joker.
No hard feelings.
- Corny, aren't I?
- Joker, what are you doing here?
Oh, just passing by.
I heard my name...
and I couldn't resist shooting a jolly jet
through the tiny perforation in that screen.
Just passing by,
huh? To do what?
Gimmick another
innocent vending machine?
Oh, there must be bats
in your belfry, Batman.
Has anyone found
fingerprints or other evidence?
You're too smart
for that, Joker.
Hey, Batman, nab him anyway.
Loitering on school property.
Right. Five-thousand dollars
fine and five years' imprisonment.
Ha, ha. No. Wrong, kiddies.
Look up the statute. In Gotham
City, the crime of loitering...
requires the loiterer to remain in
the same spot for over two minutes.
You... You jailhouse lawyer.
The tricky trickster,
he's outwitting us.
Ooh, dear me. The court
jester must run, jest in time.
Well, goodbye, kiddies. And
remember, I was here, eh?
What an odd parting remark.
Yeah. Why'd he want us
to remember he was here?
From the lips of a crook,
it can mean only one thing.
- Establishing an alibi.
- Right.
Gee whiz. Alibi for what?
The Batphone signal. Batman!
Hey, Batman, it's your Batphone.
The Batphone, Batman.
- What now, commissioner?
- Another strike.
A cocktail lounge. A gimmick
jukebox. It must be the Joker.
We'll never make it
stick. He has an alibi.
- Maybe we can break it.
- Impossible. The alibi is me.
What? You?
Forget it. Give me the address.
I'll race to the scene of the crime.
Right. Goodbye.
Batman, sir.
You forgot your box of slides.
Good lad. Bring it over.
Fake a headache. Speed
home. Wait for me in the Batcave.
You're welcome, sir.
Boys and girls, go back to your studies.
Believe me, nothing in life is free.
Scarcely 5 00 yards away, behind
this innocent-seeming candy store...
an abandoned garage, now
headquarters of the Joker...
and his current gang the Bad Pennies,
high-school dropouts most of them.
- It's a pretty good haul, isn't it?
- Peanuts, my boy. Mere peanuts.
That bar job was just a pot-boiling
appetizer for the real feast.
Ho, ho! What an
inspired stroke of mine...
buying up the One-Armed
Bandit Novelty Company. Ah.
Plunder by remote control.
Hey, Joker. I think I got this one
rigged. Come and have a look.
- Put it all away.
- Right.
Set to go off on
the third strike?
Yeah, and I got two
strikes rung up already.
Ho, ho! Here we go.
Sensational. It's a gas.
It won't be colored smoke in a
bar, it'll be your knockout stuff.
- You've done it again, Two Bits.
- Thanks.
A timely reminder.
Crime can be shocking.
Someone's trying the
bubble-gum machine.
Hi, gang.
Ah, sweet Sue, shiniest
of my Bad Pennies.
Boy, Joker, you sure are some card,
popping out at school like that at Batman.
Wondrously whimsical, wasn't it?
It was real crazy,
if you asked me.
I might have fainted and
given the whole game away.
However, you didn't.
- Ah! I see you have the stuff.
- Of course.
- Any trouble getting it?
- Heck, no.
Like I told you, being chief cheerleader
puts me on the student council.
Once you're on that, you
can get away with anything.
Ho, ho! Let's see.
Hands off. Not until I get paid.
Trusting little
wench, aren't you?
I'm a crook,
Joker, just like you.
Now, where's the payoff?
- Hi there, lamb chop. You busy tonight?
- You lowlife, get away from me.
- Now, look here, baby. I have plans...
- Are you stupid or something?
The reason I've taken up crime is so I can
get a taste of the finer things in life.
- Yeah...
- Now, beat it.
Ha, ha. Shut your
eyes, sweet Susie.
Oh, yeah? And get an exploding
cigar in my ear? No thanks.
You mischievous bobette.
Shut your eyes, I said.
A rhinestone bracelet...
a fox-fur stole...
and one full quart of
imported Mexican perfume.
Oh. Oh, gee, Joker.
I'm sorry I sassed you.
Why, this is like
some lovely dream.
Ah, perfect. Stolen right
from Schoolfield's safe...
the keycard to my
malevolent machinations.
- Well, what is it, Joker?
- Look, you boobs. Look and laugh.
Examination papers.
X plus Y times X plus Y.
Holy alphabet. What is it?
- If you'll excuse me, Master Robin.
- Yes, Alfred?
The solution is, uh, X squared
plus 2XY plus Y squared.
Gee, sure. Why
didn't I know that?
And with nationwide pre-college
exams coming up in just three days.
Good to have you home, sir.
- What'd you find out, Batman?
- Nothing.
Holy vacuum. Not a single clue?
We don't need clues, Robin.
We know our man is the Joker.
What we need is evidence.
I went over that looted
lounge with a fine-tooth comb.
I didn't even find a
single hair to analyze.
Gosh, and school
morale in a tailspin.
A month from now there'll
be dropouts by the bushel.
- If he waits that long.
- Huh?
I didn't want to cause panic
at that student meeting...
but I think the Joker has some
other dirty plan afoot as well.
- Like what?
- I don't know.
But I think it involves gimmicked
machines and Woodrow Roosevelt High.
Gee, if we just knew
how he gets in to fix them.
You've guessed it,
Robin. Our next move.
- Stake out the school.
- Right again. Let's go.
Hello, hello? Give me the sign.
How do you stop a
dog from barking in July?
Countersign: Shoot him in
June. Very good. Ha-ha-ha.
Joker, listen. Batman and Robin
just drove into the parking lot.
What? The Dynamic
Duo at the school?
That's right, Joker. What'll
I do? Take it on the lam?
No, no, no, listen.
Oh, ha-ha-ha.
Thank heavens for my
delicious sense of humor.
You have your
crooked keys, don't you?
- Natch.
- All right, sweet Sue.
Find Key 17. Do
exactly as I tell you.
- Gain level set.
- Okay.
Set the antitheft
systems. Let's go.
- Susie.
- Oh. Wow, am I ever glad to see you two.
Oh?
Just now, I saw a suspicious
character in the gym.
- Quick, run to safety.
- We'll take care of him.
Wait, Batman. Look, that
machine, it's been tampered with.
This might be tricky.
Get out your Batarang.
I'll slip in a dime.
Holy ball and chain.
Quick, let's get out
our cutting tools.
Oh. Knockout gas.
Twelve-and-one-half minutes
later inside this curious vehicle:
It's all hooked up, boss.
- Fifty-thousand volts from the city main.
- Good.
Gosh, Joker. This sure is some
crazy mixed-up moving van.
One of the assets of the One-Armed
Bandit Novelty Company, my dear.
Built for a whimsical
Caribbean dictator.
Happily for us, if not for the
Dynamic Duo, deposed before delivery.
- Oh, they're waking up.
- Careful now, my dimpled darling.
No names. I'll speak to them
through this trick microphone...
that disguises our voices.
Oh, what a ball.
Holy Las Vegas. Where are we?
In a strange kind of
game room, Boy Blunder.
- Do you see the machine next to you?
- Right.
It's going to spin around
merrily and merrily.
What's the payoff?
Three Liberty Bells: Your
freedom, and $50,000 cash.
Three oranges:
Your freedom only.
And if it's three lemons? Which the
percentages say is the more likely.
Fifty-thousand volts of electrifying
electricity, my fettered fatman.
Automatically on
the third lemon.
- Holy fruit salad.
- Sorry, I don't approve of gambling.
Enough, my captured
Caped Crusaders.
I guarantee this machine is
fair. So let the game commence.