Batman (1966–1968): Season 2, Episode 3 - Hot Off the Griddle - full transcript

Eleven o'clock in
Gotham City and all is well.

Or is it?

Criminals prefer plying their
trade under the cloak of darkness.

And tonight is no exception.

A catalog taken from
a department store.

A catamaran taken
from the nautical society.

Three mittens taken from
a fancy apartment. Ha!

What, uh...? What does that
all spell out to you, O'Hara?

T-R-O-U-B-L-E. Trouble.

- The Princess of Plunder.
- Catwoman.

The saints preserve us.



When facing an adversary
like the Countess of Criminality...

there is only one man
who can deal with...

and eventually overcome
that threat to our security.

Meanwhile, at stately
Wayne Manor...

home of Bruce Wayne and his
youthful ward, Dick Grayson...

astronomical events
are taking place.

Remember, Dick, don't
look directly into the sun.

It may cause damage
to the retina of the eye.

Right, Bruce.

Gosh, isn't it exciting
about the eclipse tomorrow?

A few countries are
sending geophysical teams...

to observe the phenomenon.

Ahem. Uh, sir? BRUCE: Hmm?

It's the Batphone.



- Yes, commissioner?
- Batman.

We have every reason to
believe that Catwoman is alive...

and living in Gotham City.

We'll be right
there, commissioner.

Catwoman has returned to besmirch
the name of our fair metropolis.

To the Bat Poles.

"And the three mittens came from the
10th floor apartment of Andrew S. Kitten."

Ha. "Parent of triplets."

- Gotham City's father of the year.
- Right.

But there's one significant fact that these
crimes have, all three are cat-oriented.

But what does it all mean?

It means, Chief O'Hara, that
Catwoman has something big up her paw.

However, this is only a
portent of crimes to come.

The Marchioness of
Misdemeanors is a wily opponent.

What'll we do?

You'd set a thief to catch a thief,
you'd set some cheese to catch a mouse.

To catch this breed
of cat, you'd set...

- A bird.
- Correct, Robin.

And what kind of bird?

A canary.

You've done it again, old chap.

I hope it works, Batman.

She's a pretty hip cat.

No matter how cunning and
crafty they are, Chief O'Hara...

eventually all criminals commit the same
error, over-confidence. Let's go, Robin.

O'Hara...

I have grown to realize that there
are two basics in life we can be sure of.

Death and taxes, sir?

Batman and Robin.

This woman is bright and clever.

No matter how much she's
involved in her treacherous schemes...

she must keep in
touch with reality.

A false newspaper story.

A few weeks ago...

I met the man who writes the most
widely-read gossip column in the country.

Jack O'Shea of the
Gotham City Times.

Right, a straight news plant
might be too conspicuous...

but a small blurb
in his column...

might do the trick.

Is he worthy of our trust?

That's hard to determine, Robin.

He's a bit too
theatrical for me...

but we must make every effort
to bring Catwoman to justice.

Are you gonna call him
at his newspaper office?

This Jack O'Shea
is rather unique.

His office is the third phone
booth in Glob's drugstore.

We should have the
number in the Bat index.

Yeah, ring me tomorrow, Fred.

Dolly.

Hey, Poopsie, make me a corn
beef on white, heavy on the mayo.

Two glasses of buttermilk.

Your dime.

Mr. O'Shea, this is Batman.

Who?

We met several weeks
ago at the newspaper.

You're putting me on.

I wonder, could
you do me a favor?

Come on, who is this
really? Hubbel, Leonard?

This is really Batman.

I'll be an out of work actor.

Say, what can I do
for you, Batman baby?

Need a little free
publicity? Ha!

I'd like you to place an item in your
column about a rare species of canary...

that's being exhibited on the 12th floor of
the Gotham City Natural History Museum.

Well, anything you
say, Caped Crusader.

Always glad to aid
the Hooded Avenger.

I appreciate that.

Hey, why don't you and I
have lunch together sometime?

Perhaps. Goodbye.

See you around.

You are the crème de la crème...

of Gotham City's cat burglars.

So why did we have to waste our
time with those dumb robberies?

- Unh!
- Never question my motives.

Suffice it to say that 12
men applied for this job.

All the others washed out when
they were caught by the law.

You proved your mettle
when you escaped unscathed.

I am in the process of selecting
cat burglars for the greatest caper...

in crimedom's history.

So, what is it already?

In due time.

In due time.

Speak.

Catwoman, sweetheart.

What's shaking, baby?

Watch your language,
knave. Remember, I'm a lady.

Yeah. Right.

Well, I've got some news that
ought to raise the fur on your back.

The Batman has arranged a trap.

There's a rare canary on the 12th floor of
the Gotham City Natural History Museum.

I guess he figured
you'd want to, uh, steal it.

My, is that so?

Good going, my perfidious
printsman. Keep in touch.

Yeah.

Hey, why don't we get together
and share a saucer of milk sometime?

Don't be ridiculous.

It would ravage my reputation
if I were seen with you.

Nobody wants to eat with me.

Now.

Pay attention.

It's time for your lesson
in window-jimmying.

After this, we'll
have a short recess...

and discuss Batman and
Robin's upcoming funeral.

- Are those the Batjets you told me about?
- Yes, Robin.

Each one contains enough compressed
bat-jection to lift a 5000 pound automobile...

more than 500 miles in the air.

We haven't tested them yet, but
we may have to use them eventually.

Batman, you think of everything.

- Remember, the Boy Scouts' motto?
- Be prepared.

It would do well to keep
that in mind at all times.

I took the liberty, sir, of
preparing you both a snack.

How thoughtful, Alfred,
but we must be gone.

Crime waits for no one.

Oh, but surely, sir, you'll
take some nourishment.

It's not conducive to good health to fight
the forces of evil without proper supplies.

Ah. As they say, an army
travels on its stomach.

Indeed, sir.

Uh, I anticipated your haste.

- I provided this sack.
- Ah.

Uh, it's always been
my motto: "be prepared."

Truer words were never spoken.

And if I may say so,
sir, where are you off to?

The Gotham City
Natural History Museum.

And we must get there
pronto before Catwoman.

- If my calculations are correct...
- They usually are.

Someone should be coming through
that window within the next six seconds.

Six, five, four...

You were right.

Don't make a move, you light-fingered
larcenist, consider yourself apprehended.

Now wait a second,
Batman and Robin.

Is that fair, two against one?

You're big, important
crime fighters...

and I'm just a
lowly cat burglar...

trying to eke out a living
in this dog-eat-dog world.

I'd hoped the Catwoman herself
might materialize here tonight.

If you'd just look behind
you, you'll see that she did.

Holy cliché. Does he
expect us to fall for that?

Ah, my tenacious teenager,
you have a lot to learn.

You witch.

Batman, with all
your many attributes...

you haven't learned the
first thing about manners.

A gentleman would
kiss a lady's hand.

You are not a lady. You are a...

Hss! Curb your tongue, Batman.

I cannot tolerate a
man with no breeding.

All right, cats, get them.

Enough. Enough!

Cease this fiddle-dee-dee.

- Are you ready to capitulate?
- Heavens forbid.

I just don't see the reason
for any further violence.

Especially since
my side is losing.

Holy weaponry.

Look what she's got in her paws.

I've got you covered
with my cat darts.

They've been dipped in catatonic, just
enough to paralyze you for a minute or so.

Holy D'Artagnan.

You've made your point.

Unh. What is she
going to do with us?

You can be sure her
intentions are not honorable.

I'm gonna throw
you out that window.

Twelve floors straight down.

I hope you enjoy your flight.

Do the deed and
be quick about it.

I hate long goodbyes.

I don't believe it.

What rotten luck.

Put on your cat suits,
let's get out of here.

The fuzz will be
stepping on our tails.

Lucky we had Captain Ahab of the White
Whaling Company put up these fishnets...

to catch the canary cage she
might've tossed out the window.

These nets sure saved our lives.

Not luck, Robin,
we were prepared.

But it is true, some days
one is luckier than others.

I really hate to do this. This may
give the caretaker quite a shock.

"Gotham City's much beloved crime
busters blew the duke last night...

when they allowed the Viscountess
of Venality to escape their...

bumbling efforts.

Now the question is, have
the dynamic Caped Crusaders...

fallen on their masks?"

What a scathing denunciation.
Why would O'Shea be so vitriolic?

Here's the one spalpeen we caught
last night after the others got away.

- He's all yours, Batman.
- Thank you, Chief O'Hara.

You might as well spill it.

You can kick me, hit me and
stomp me, but I'll never talk.

All right, I'll talk.

Where's Catwoman's lair?
- I don't know.

They pick me up at my
swank one room apartment...

blindfold me, then
take me to her place.

Any clues as to where it is?

All I know is that I heard rock
'n' roll music in the background...

whenever I go to
one of her lectures.

Lessons in larceny.
How despicable.

And I used to hear a lot of people
marching on the floor above my head.

With a bunch of cats meowing
whenever the music stopped. Heh-heh.

Oh, yeah, one other thing.

Whatever her caper is,
she plans it for tonight.

- Very well. Take him away, Chief O'Hara.
- Come on.

It's 10 a.m.

If we're to figure out her plot,
we better shake a boot. Let's go.

Come on, Alfred, it's easy.

Don't be an old fuddy-duddy.

I'm afraid my dancing days ended
with the Lambeth Walk, madam.

Doctor's orders,
you know, war injury.

Heavens.

Oh, boy. I like
rock 'n' roll music...

as much as the next red-blooded
average American teenager...

but this stuff is awful.

It's the latest dance.

They call it the Cattuzzi.

By Benedict Arnold
and the Traitors.

It started a couple of weeks ago at
a new restaurant on the west side...

called the Pink Sandbox.

What are your specialties?

Catburgers with catsup,
Chicken Cat-atore...

and various cuts of meat
from choice Kansas City cattle.

If you'll come back in a
moment, we'll give you our orders.

All right.

Holy epicure.

Using this restaurant
as a cover-up.

Oh, she's smart all right.

But this time we'll
turn the tables on her.

You were right, Robin,
this must be the place.

The early cat
catches the Batman.

Don't bother, Batman.

This glass is shatter-proof,
bulletproof and bat-proof.

What are we gonna do, Batman?

What are you gonna do?

You're gonna die.

I'm not just pussyfooting
around this time, Batman.

You can't frighten us with any of
your threats, you feline sorceress.

Take heed, we shall
overcome your satanic schemes.

If we weren't on opposite sides of
the law, Batman, I could go for you...

in a small way.

You're about the only man I've
met lately who'd be worthy of me.

Holy lovebirds, I think
she's sweet on you, Batman.

The Joker called for
a date last Monday.

He's fairly attractive.

But I can't stand
his green hair.

And the Penguin's
too small for me.

Your problem is you've been
running around with a bad crowd.

Enough of this
moralizing, Batman.

Nobody likes a
preaching crime fighter.

Batman and Robin...

your time has come.

Prepare thyselves for the
hotfoot to end all hot feet.

Charlie, switch it on.

Look at them dance, boys.

It's amazing how two such athletic
human beings can be so ungainly.

We've gotta cool this floor down,
or our feet will be severely burned.

Holy bunions.

Look, there's a water pipe.

Little do they know that
pipe contains liquid catatonia.

Fumes will drive them batty
and knock them temporarily out.

Wake up, you birdies.

I wouldn't want you
to make your exits...

without knowing exactly
how it's to be done.

You hateful hussy.

The reflectors have been
greased with margarine...

to make you all the more...

fryable.

Holy oleo.

I didn't know you could yodel.

- Have you no semblance of decency?
- Not a shred.

Thomas, Charles...

bring over the
pièce de résistance.

Hot enough for you, Batman?

You two guys
are really hot stuff.

Two minutes under this blistering
heat and you'll be very well-done indeed.

It's too bad it had
to end now, guys...

but look at it this way, you
will have starred in a new show.

What's that?

Bat on a Hot Tin Roof.

That's not a bit funny.

Well, you never did have much
of a sense of humor, anyhow.

Farewell. Farewell.

I must depart...

and muster my forces for the
final assault on Mount Gotham.

At most, you have a
few scant minutes...

before you either
choke to death...

or get one of the worst
cases of sunburn in history.