Batman (1966–1968): Season 1, Episode 29 - The Bookworm Turns - full transcript

Gotham City,
metropolis of wonders...

architectural
queen of the world.

A new jewel is about to
be added to her crown.

Distinguished guests,
ladies and gentleman...

the mightiest bridge in the
world becomes a part of our city.

I hereby dedicate this
engineering triumph...

the Amerigo Columbus Bridge.

And in Wayne Manor...

stately home of millionaire Bruce Wayne
and his youthful ward, Dick Grayson:

Bruce, quick. Come here, look.

What is it, Dick?



In the crowd there, I
just saw the Bookworm.

- Are you sure?
- How could I mistake him?

Those crazy clothes that look
like rare, old book bindings.

And I'm pretty sure he had
on his trick eyeglasses too.

The ones with the
secret radio stuff built in.

Strange. What would a
crook like the Bookworm...

be doing at the
dedication of a bridge?

Let's watch. Maybe he'll
show his nasty nose again.

Bookworm to Printer's Devil.

Bookworm to Printer's Devil.

Start chapter one.

Devil to Bookworm.
Got you, boss.

Holy homicide.

- Tell me I'm having a nightmare.
- Steady, Dick.



- It happened, all right.
- Commissioner Gordon killed.

This is one time we don't
wait for the Batphone.

Oh! Aah! Oh, my dears. My dears.

I was watching in the music
room. Did you see it too?

We did, indeed, Aunt Harriet.

I just hope they were
watching the television.

They?

Batman and Robin.

Who else can save us now?

Don't worry, Aunt Harriet. I guess
there's not much those two miss.

Come on, Dick. Let's drive into the city
and pay our respects to a late, great man.

Right, Bruce.

It's the least we can do.

I solemnly swear by my
oath as a crime fighter...

that this outrage will
not go unavenged.

To the Batpoles.

Look. What'd I tell you?

Yes, it's the
Bookworm all right.

Oh, you pasty-faced devil.

If I could only get me mitts
around your neck, I'd strangle you!

You bea... You...

Pull yourself
together, Chief O'Hara.

The mere fact that he was at
the scene is no proof of guilt.

Outrage. Worst insult I've
ever suffered in my whole life.

Miss Williams, please.
What are you up to?

Gentlemen, back
to your departments.

- Saints alive.
- Holy reincarnation.

You weren't at the ceremony at
the new bridge, commissioner?

I was not.

Thanks to a monumentally stupid police officer
who gave me a ticket as I left my luncheon.

Me, arrested for
overtime parking.

Chief O'Hara.

Are you anxious to be transferred
to the Department of Sanitation?

No, sir.

May I see that
ticket, commissioner?

Badge number 1887.

- Signed by A.S. Scarlet.
- Wait.

There is no badge
1887 on the force.

Of course not.

A.S. Scarlet stands
for A Study in Scarlet.

A Sherlock Holmes adventure
novel first published in 1887.

What a typical
twisted Bookworm joke.

Bookworm?

Say, what, uh...?
What is all this?

Why are you here, Batman?

To investigate your
murder, my friend.

- What?
- At the bridge this morning.

There was an impostor
made up to look like you.

He was apparently murdered by
a rifle bullet and fell into the river.

Good grief. Then that so-called
policeman who pinched me...

- Another phony.
- Right, Robin.

A mere illusion of
death, commissioner...

performed by an expert
high diver in Bookworm's pay.

But why? What on earth
was the point of that charade?

I don't know. It could
have been merely...

The bomb detector in the
Batmobile, it's flashing red.

Quick, hit the
radio-control ejector button.

Holy explosion.

Printer's Devil to
Bookworm headquarters.

Devil to Bookworm.

Devil to Bookworm.

I read you, Printer's Devil.

Plot A, wash out.

He got rid of the bomb
with a tricky ejector.

What about plot B?

I don't know, Bookworm.
It's still up in the air. It...

Ah, here it comes now.

What condition is it
in? Is my plot B legible?

Perfectly.

And here come the
bat-eared boobs too.

Return to headquarters.

I read you. Over and out.

Batman, look.

Strange.

A scorched,
powder-burnt book cover.

Seems to be made of asbestos.

Excuse me, sir.

Did you see where
this came from?

Out of the sky, Batman. Out of
the sky. Just after that explosion.

Typical of the Bookworm to place
his lethal weapon inside a book.

- Bookworm?
- Sorry, citizen, police business.

You'd better move along.

- Good luck, Batman.
- Thank you.

You can still read the cover.

"For Whom the Bell Tolls
by Ernest Hemmingway."

It's the grimmest
warning we've ever had.

Warning?

Hemmingway's title.

It's from a poem by John Donne.

"Do not ask for
whom the bell tolls;

it tolls for thee."

No clues here, Batman.
No secret writing.

It's just what it looks like, a perfectly
ordinary asbestos book cover.

Darn it all. I'm still positive there's some
reason why he chose this particular book.

Maybe it was the only one
he had that was the right size.

No, Robin. No. You see, I
know how this fiend's mind works.

He prepares every super crime
like the frustrated novelist he is.

Every page, every chapter is
an integral part of one stolen plot.

Even that charade at
the bridge this morning.

Great heavens. Of
course. The bridge.

What, Batman?

In For Whom the Bell Tolls, the
hero's mission is to blow up a bridge.

Holy detonator. Let's go.

What is our super crime, boss?

Silence. Back to your books.
You'll be told in good time.

Oh, you're some
clever worm, Bookworm.

Hmm. Oh.

Oh, it's books, my sweet Lydia.

Books. Books.

That's the secret of my success.

Books.

Oh, I read them all.

I inherit the
wisdom of the ages.

Every plot ever devised
is here inside my head.

Oh, Bookworm, with
a mind like yours...

I wonder why you don't
write your own bestseller.

Shut up!

Don't you dare say that to me.

- But, Bookworm, I...
- You, you, you're taunting me, aren't you?

- No, Bookworm.
- Yes, you are!

- You're taunting and mocking me! And why?
- No! No!

Why? Because I have
no originality, that's why!

Why? Because I'm only
the master of stolen plots!

Well...

- Well, this, this will teach you a lesson!
- No!

Hmm.

Psst.

What is he doing?

With his fantastic mind...

he will read that entire
book in a matter of seconds.

Now, ahem, what was I
saying before I was interrupted?

Aw.

Dear me.

What feeble memories
you have. Heh.

However, shades of Shakespeare.

Night has fallen.

It is time for us to put
a little twist into our plot.

Follow me.

- There's one thing I don't dig, Batman.
- Oh?

Why does Bookworm wanna
blow up the new bridge?

- What's he gonna get out of it?
- Perhaps nothing but twisted revenge.

Revenge against a
well-regulated society...

Look. On that cloud.

Wow, the Bat-Signal.

Batmobile here.

Oh, thank heavens, Boy Wonder. A
strange occurrence has just been reported.

Where and what?

Back at that huge old warehouse on
Harbor Avenue. It involves a bridge.

Say no more, commissioner.
We're on our way.

Old warehouse, Harbor Avenue.

Hold tight. Emergency Bat-turn.

Robin, alert Parachute Pickup.

Parachute Pickup.

Holy magic lantern. An
immense picture of the new bridge.

Yes, he's blown it up all right.

That photograph of the
bridge, it's hugely enlarged.

"Blown up" in
photographer's lingo.

Gosh, what a
tricky play on words.

- What's Bookworm's game?
- I don't know, Robin.

The first thing is to find out where
that hidden photo projector is.

Let's climb the wall
and get a bird's-eye view.

Wall's too high to
use the Bat-Ropes.

Let's use the Batzooka.

Pressman to Bookworm...

they're getting ready
to climb the wall.

Bookworm to Pressman,
return to bookmobile.

Fire.

Holy bull's-eye.

Let's go.

I have the curious feeling this
is all some kind of literary plot.

Let's outwit him, Batman.
Let's refuse to bite.

- We must, Robin. It's the only way...
- Are you Batman?

Oh. Oh, you must be
because that's Robin. Hi, Robin.

Yes, citizen. But don't be alarmed,
we're here on official business.

Holy human flies.

This ought to be high enough.

Look, down there
in that other alley.

Careful, Robin. Both
hands on the Bat-Rope.

Sorry, Batman.

You're right, though. The source
of this giant projected blowup...

seems to be coming from
the roof of that parked van.

Reverse Batclimb.

Odd. An abandoned bookmobile.

Could it really be one from
the Gotham City Public Library?

I doubt it, Robin.

Not with that photo
projector built into the roof.

I doubt whether it's
entirely abandoned either.

You're right, Batman. There must be
someone inside to tend the projector.

Let's give the worm a turn.

We'll use the
ultrasonic Bat-ray.

Bookmobile right in
the sights, Batman.

- How many decibels will we give him?
- Twelve thousand dBs ought to be sufficient.

Twelve thousand
decibels. Here we go.

That's flushed them out.

Six of them, two of
us. Odds in our favor.

Iwo Jima's Art of the Attack.

Page 14, chapter
six, paragraph two.

Into action.

Your glasses.

Remember, never
hit a man with glasses.

Shakespeare, once
more unto the breach.

Machiavelli.

Page three, line six.

"Retreat!"

The cowardly worms.
Where are they going?

Where worms always go.

Down into the earth.

They've wiggled through
that secret trapdoor.

- Doubtless they had it all prepared.
- But why, Batman?

- Why lure us here and then run?
- Good question, Robin.

And one which has baffled us from
the very beginning of this case. Why?

Perhaps there's a clue to
be found in that bookmobile.

Holy Cinderella. A
beautiful prisoner.

Just like a fairy tale.

Let's free her.

No. Wait a minute, Robin.

Criminals have
tried this trick before.

- Trick?
- Shh, shh.

The girl could be one
of Bookworm's gang...

disguised as a prisoner
to give us false information.

- Gosh, Batman, those look like honest eyes.
- Ah.

Never trust the old chestnut
that crooks have beady little eyes.

It's false.

I say we subject her
to the most rigid test.

You mean the Batcave?

Precisely.

I regret this, but it's a
precaution I must take.

I'm going to put you
to sleep for a little while.

I give you my word there'll
be no harmful aftereffects.

What is your name?

Lydia Limpet.

Do you know where you are?

Of course.

I'm in back of
Bookworm's bookmobile.

It rings true, Batman. She doesn't
even realize she's in the Batcave.

Get set for the big one.

What is Bookworm's plot?

I don't know.

He hasn't confided it to us.

Darn it all, another
true answer.

I only know he
can't pull it off...

till Batman and
Robin have perished.

Turn that machine off.

What are we gonna do, Batman?

Only one thing we can do...

and quickly, before
that Bat-gas wears off.

She's waking up.

Batman.

Oh, thank heavens.

You've rescued me from
that slimy fiend, the Bookworm.

Any idea what
his plot is, ma'am?

Oh, yes. I overheard it all.

He plans to strike at midnight.

Where, ma'am?

It's just awful.

You know that perfect
replica of Independence Hall?

The one built for
the exposition?

Well, he plans to steal the
priceless document there.

The original...

United States Declaration
of Independence.

This poor girl's
had a very bad time.

We'd better call an ambulance
on the mobile Batphone.

Batman, Robin,
please don't leave me.

- Another trap, of course.
- You can say that again.

Another trap, and I
intend to walk right into it.

What?

It's the only way, Robin. We
know the Bookworm's waiting there.

- With a shotgun loaded for bats.
- True.

But he doesn't know that I know. You
stay here and guard that crooked girl.

I'll call Chief O'Hara en route
and have him send reinforcements.

Ambulance on the way, ma'am.

Won't be long, Miss Limpet.

While we wait...

why don't you untie me? Hmm?

I don't know if I should. I mean,
you might be injured, Miss Limpet.

Better not move until
trained personnel arrives.

Well, then, how about
reading me a book?

Say, that fourth one
on the end of the shelf.

Sure thing, Miss Limpet.

- This one?
- No, no, no, the next one.

"A Complete English History"?

This kind of stuff
always puts me to sleep.

Limpet to Bookworm, urgent.

Do you read me? Am I legible?

Repeat, am I legible?

Ahem. I read you.

Warning, Batman
knows it's a trap.

How could he?

I don't know. But get this, the
Boy Wonder knows my name.

He's been calling
me Miss Limpet.

They must've tumbled somehow.

Do you still have Boy Wonder?

Oh, yes.

He got a whiff of your
sleepy-bye book, English History.

Stay right there. I'll be
right over to pick you up.

Over and out.

A strange destination
for a dreadful fate.

The Wayne Memorial
Clock Tower...

presented to Gotham City in
memory of Bruce Wayne's father.

Time.

Time which delivers us
all to the worms in the end.

Huh?

- What time is it?
- Oh!

One minute to
midnight, Bookworm.

Ah. Sixty tiny seconds. Oh.

Farewell, Boy
Wonder. Adieu, Robin.

Oh, this is the last time that you
will meddle in affairs of moment.

Oh, I tried to warn you.

"Do not ask for
whom this bell tolls;

it tolls for thee."

Holy headache.