All language subtitles for cindue desa

NARRATOR". As we last took
leave of Batman and Robin...

The Green Hornet had been made
into a rare stamp...

and then thumbtacked to a wall
by the corrupt Colonel Gumm...

with Kato still being
blocked and perforated...

in Gumm's shameful stamping machine,
and the Dynamic Duo to follow.

Once they're unglued
from Gumm's glue pad...

for you, who've breathlessly
waited and wondered...

some man-hours have passed.

For the Caped Crusaders,
mere moments...

as we shall see in a moment.

NARRATOR".
Kato, too, made into a man-size stamp...

and thumbtacked to the wall?

What monster of a man
is Colonel Gumm?

And what monstrous mutilation
faces our mantled man-hunters?

Well, Dynamic Duo...

your turn.

I think you will find us a much
stickier proposition, Gumm.

Not with another little invention of mine.

Colonel Gumm's Super Instant Glue Gone.

The invisible dissolving agent
contained in this spray can...

will penetrate anything and anybody...

and will dissolve glue in an instant.

Now, into the enlarged perforating
and coiling machine...

to be stamped with my disapproval.

Robin, the switch.

- Now to remove this panel.
- Why the panel?

Because The Green Hornet and Kato
are still alive inside this machine.

Still alive? How could they be?

- They're thumbtacked to the wall.
- Shh.

That should give them a chance
to use their Hornet Sting.

Quick. Into the truck
with these cases of stamps.

I'll get Miss Pinkston. We'll hold her
as hostage. Meet me in the garage.

- Gumm and his goons are getting away.
- No, Robin, they've had it. They won't get far.

Aah.

Holy living end.

It looked like the end there for a minute.

But there was a small niche
between the gum-applier...

and the perforating needles.
- And we are both quite flexible.

But there wasn't enough room
to use my Hornet Sting...

to blast us out
until that panel was loosened.

How did the machine
take your picture?

No doubt an automatic
image-orthicon of some kind.

Wrong, Green Hornet.

It was a high-velocity spectrobiscopic
range reflector mini-unit. Hm.

Uh, are you feeding that pink mutt
my alphabet soup?

Apricot was hungry,
and she's only down to the Ds.

- Come on.
- No.

- Yes. And blindfolded too.
- No.

- Ha-ha-ha!
- Aah!

How could you know
they were alive in there?

When this masked meddler
was tossed in...

he had this gruesome gizmo with him.

But you will notice, Robin, it is
conspicuously missing from that giant stamp.

Ergo, the high-velocity spectrobiscopic
range reflector mini-unit...

failed to produce a true facsimile.

Gosh, that's some "ergo," Batman.

Yes, Batman, that's very clever,
but it seems as if in saving us...

you've allowed our assailants
to escape.

None too smart
for a smart crime-fighter.

Are we just letting them go?

As a duly deputized officer of the law,
I had no tangible evidence to hold them on.

But in giving them their heads,
so to speak...

perhaps we can provide
some tangible evidence shortly.

Come on, Robin.

- What's the matter?
- I smell pink.

- You're just tired.
- No, I mean I really smell pink.

The color pink.

Pinky Pinkston.

She wears Eau de Carnation,
an expensive pink perfume.

And she's been...

in here.

There's no doubt about it. Probably looked
up by her foreman before we arrived.

What's that?

I guess I'm tired...

but it looks like
a bowl of alphabet soup.

Robin, have you noticed
the J's, Q's and Z's are missing?

Holy uncanny photographic
mental processes.

Miss Pinkston expected
Batman here tonight.

No doubt she contrived
to leave a message.

In the soup?

Gosh, Batman.
It's sure a good thing you brought...

that empty alphabet soup Bat container.

Right, Robin.

The right tool for the right job.

To the Batcave.

Gosh, I never knew there were
no punctuation marks in alphabet soup.

- Yes, commissioner?
- Batman, what a relief.

We were a little afraid there might be
some, uh, overdue postage on you.

You must have found those man-sized
stamps of The Green Hornet...

and his masked confederate
in the stamp factory.

Well, one of our men did
on routine duty.

You can tear the stamps up,
commissioner.

The Green Hornet is still very much alive
and operating in Gotham City.

What's the story, Batman?

It's a long one, commissioner.
I'll explain later.

Right now, Robin and I are trying
to work out another puzzle.

Well, get back to work, by all means.

Forgive the intrusion, sir, but Mr.
Reid is upstairs. He'd like to see you.

Ask Mrs. Cooper to keep him occupied,
Alfred, a few minutes.

- She, uh... She's under the hair-dryer, sir.
- Ah, yes. Hm.

I'll be right there, Alfred.
Keep trying, old chum.

There's more letters in this alphabet soup
than there are in the alphabet.

- Hello, Britt.
- Hi.

If I'd known you were in there,
I wouldn't have stood on ceremony.

Well, it would be more comfortable
in the living room here anyway.

- Sit down, Britt.
- Thanks.

You're up early, aren't you?

Yes, Bruce. I'm worried about Pinky.

Nobody answered at her apartment
or the factory.

Do you suppose something
could have happened to her?

All that talk about
The Green Hornet and Batman.

Incidentally, uh,
I should have told you this yesterday.

I met Batman
in Commissioner Gordon's office.

- He sends his regards.
- Very thoughtful.

Uh, what kind of a guy is he, Bruce?

An enigma.

I really don't know him very well, Britt.

But if he tangled with Green Hornet last night,
Green Hornet would have gotten the worst of it.

Well, that would be a switch. Heh.

Green Hornet
usually comes out the winner.

That's because you have no Batman
in your city.

Oh. Well, maybe. Hm.

But I'm still worried about Pinky.

Well, Pinky seems to me to be a girl
that can take care of herself.

- Mm. Mm.
- I wouldn't worry.

- How was the convention last night?
- Heh.

Dull. How was the board meeting
at the Wayne Foundation?

Dreary.

If you're going to be in town for a while,
maybe we could dig up some excitement?

Yeah, like old times.

Ah, before we settled down
into our mundane lives.

Like old times.
We had a few laughs, didn't we?

Before we settled down
and became such solid citizens.

Yeah. Yeah, it's guys like
The Green Hornet and Batman...

that see all the action,
get all the kicks.

Would you trade places with them?

Well, not with Batman.

I wouldn't be caught dead
in that crazy cowl of his.

It's impossible, Batman.

I'm getting no place fast
with this alphabet mishmash.

We were a little offhand
with the Batcomputer yesterday, Robin.

I suggest we give it another chance.
I'll just scoop these letters up.

Hm.

I think that's all of them.

Bat funnel.

Now the Batcomputer ingestor switches.

You mean you're gonna feed those letters
to the Batcomputer?

They're made out of noodles.
Easy to digest.

It did it.
"If anyone can decode this message..."

Gumm is taking me to warehouse
as hostage.

"Watch stamp exhibition tonight.
Pinky Pinkston."

And not a J, Q or Z
in the entire message.

That's very clever of Miss Pinkston.

I'll wager she fed
all the J's, Q's and Z's to Apricot...

trusting we'd be able
to unravel the clue.

- Who's Apricot?
- Her pink Maltese.

Some of Bruce Wayne's female friends
sound a little dizzy to me.

But Miss Pinkston
wasn't the only clever one.

The Batcomputer even punctuated this.

Yes, it seems to be back on the beam.

Let's see if it can come up with the warehouse
where Miss Pinkston is being held hostage.

Yellow Pages.

Don't tell me it's given up again.

There's no dual identity in a warehouse.

I think it's blown a Bat fuse
All those noodle letters.

No, Master Robin.
The Batcomputer is not to blame.

It's Mrs. Cooper's hair-dryer, sir.

It short-circuited, and half the electricity
in the entire establishment is off.

And the telephones are out too.

I've sent for a telephone repairman
and an electrician, but it may take hours.

And so because of a woman's vanity...

a battle may be lost.

Lost? I'm surprised at you, Batman.

Many battles have been won before electricity
and telephone were ever invented.

Gosh, Robin. You may be right.

Just arrange to have
the stamp exhibition...

in the Constellation Room tonight
well-publicized.

Then there's bound to be some action.

And a Batclimb up Gotham Towers West
will help us flex our muscles.

Chin up, old churn.

NARRATOR". Meanwhile, the scene of battle
shifts to an isolated warehouse...

but warfare wages on
in a strange and oblique manner.

So Colonel Gumm is holding me hostage,
Apricot? For what?

Who's even going to know it,
if he's killed The Green Hornet...

his masked companion
and Batman and Robin?

Word will get around, Miss Pinkston.
Heh-heh. Mm.

Reprint, this alphabet soup
needs more consonants in it.

Yes, Apricot,
word will get around, all right.

And it won't be composed
of letters from alphabet soup.

You know how it will be spelled out?
Counterfeiter. Kidnapper. Murderer.

As long as we're spelling things out,
Miss Pinkston...

let me spell something out for you.

Bruce Wayne was in the shop
of his stamp dealer yesterday afternoon...

making inquiries about
that missing stamp of your old man's.

Do you suppose he means
the Gotham Gothic, Apricot?

And last night at the factory, The Green
Hornet mentioned the same stamp...

and the same stamp dealer.

Is he trying to tell me that Bruce Wayne
is The Green Hornet?

And I strongly suspect
that Britt Reid is Batman.

No, I could never believe that.

Besides, how do you know...

what Bruce Wayne
was telling his stamp dealer?

- Because I...
- Hold it, boss.

Don't spill any more beans.

You're right, Reprint.

Well, goodbye, Miss Pinkston.

By the time you're found,
if you're found...

I shall be thousands of miles away...

with a fortune that'll make your Pink
Chip Stamps empire look like pink peanuts.

Apricot, and this time I am talking to you,
get to work on the ropes around my wrists.

- Bruce Wayne's The Green Hornet?
- And Britt Reid is Batman?

- Incredible.
- Unthinkable.

Inconceivable.
I'll call them both up at once.

Call them over here
and face them with it.

Then that's good, isn't it, Apricot?

If either Britt or Bruce arrive,
then Colonel Gumm was wrong.

For after all,
Batman and The Green Hornet are dead.

- Are they?
- Are they?

Oh, ho-ho. Oh, no, Miss Pinkston.
No, they're not.

I talked to Batman earlier today.

He said it was a long story,
and it must be.

And then he asked me to publicize the
International Stamp Exhibition this evening.

He sounded very much alive.

And he said The Green Hornet was too.

Then there's really no use
in calling either Britt or Bruce...

is there, Apricot?
- Why not?

Do you really think, gentlemen...

that either Batman or The Green Hornet
would admit to anything...

after keeping their dual identities
a secret for so very long?

Begorra, she's right.

- What do we do now, commissioner?
- I don't know, Chief O'Hara.

May I make a suggestion, gentlemen?

- Of course.
- Of course.

By publicizing the stamp exhibition...

Batman may be intending to smoke
The Green Hornet out, as it were.

Let's get over
to the Constellation Room at once.

It'll be interesting to see who arrives,
and who wins.

And who's who.

You seem thoughtful.

We're heading for another clash with the
Caped Crusaders, and I don't like it.

Why not? We've never run away
from trouble before.

Yes, but this double identity
poses extra problems this time.

We know they're heroic crime-fighters,
they think we're criminals.

We must come out on top,
but they mustn't suffer.

Kung fu is kung fu. It's not child's play.

I know, but our tricks are gonna
have to be tempered with good judgment.

You were right, Robin.
This is a great way to limber up.

Yes, there's nothing quite like a Batclimb.

The Dynamic Duo.

There are other ways
of getting into this building.

But none that provide
the element of surprise that we need.

What are you doing in Gotham City?

Some of the paintings from my collection
go on exhibit here tomorrow.

I wonder if some creative artist
couldn't capture the two of you on canvas.

- Perhaps the Cubistic school.
- Oh, never.

- Pop art?
- No.

I think canned tomato soup is to eat,
not to frame and hang on a wall.

Dali? Picasso?

Bit of an art buff yourself,
aren't you, Batman?

I'm afraid that crime-fighting allows
me only the luxury of collecting criminals.

But you should see
the great mug shots we've got.

- Robin...
- Uh, don't reprimand him.

Who knows who posed for the Mona Lisa?

Maybe one of the wickedest women
in the world.

Oh, but what a smile.

NARRATOR". While in the Constellation Room,
who's this dominating the stamp exhibition?

It is a rare honor to have you here,
Sefior Barboza. Heh.

All the way from the Argentine.
Heh-heh.

I suppose your renowned
Howling Monkey stamp...

- has been entered for one of the prizes.
- -Ah, yes.

Indeed it has, sefior.

In fact, I expect to walk away
with everything tonight.

Well, it's time to get on
with the judging and the prizes.

- Right this way, Sefior Barboza.
- Thank you.

Now, quiet please. Quiet please.

We have here, ladies and gentlemen,
that famous stamp from Egypt...

The Inverted Blue Nile.

Wonderful.

There's Gumm in that phony disguise.

The Green Hornet
just came through the service door...

and the Caped Crusader
through a window.

I'm ready.

Let's make our move.

The Green Hornet!

And the Caped Crusaders.

Good thing those guys are on our side.
Even though they don't know it.

Good thing those guys
aren't in town every week.

NARRATOR".
What do we have here?

A Mexican standoff?
A dead heat? A photo finish?

Stand back. Come on. Now make way,
come on. Stand back. Stand back.

Ah. If it isn't the fuzz
and the pink hostage. She'll come in handy.

Out that window, boys.
We'll come up behind them.

Ah, Miss Pinkston...

- permit me to introduce myself.
- Aah!

Don't move, commissioner, nor you, chief.

It's Gumm. Robin.

If anyone makes the slightest move,
Miss Pinkston will be a dead pink duck.

All right, boys, outwith the loot.

Batman can handle this. Let's go.

Out the window, Robin.
We'll come up behind Gumm.

Here's your man.

Miss Pinkston's foreman with assorted
aliases and some sordid stooges.

- We'll run him in.
- Right.

Take them out.

The Green Hornet, he's gone.

He certainly is.
I wonder what he wanted in the first place.

Piece of a counterfeit stamp ring.

Or maybe he meant to uncover
the entire ring. Who knows?

The Green Hornet, a crime-fighter?

Holy unlikelihood.

Me, Batman?

A lot of people think so, Britt,
and that Bruce is The Green Hornet.

Yes, sir. Immediately.

Yes, Batman.

Commissioner, do me a favor.
Miss Pinkston's in the community room.

Would you call her on your regular phone...

and then hold the two phones together?

Oh, certainly, Batman.

Oh, yeah. 869...

447.

I wonder what's keeping him.

- Call for you, Miss Pinkston.
- Thank you.

- Hello.
- This is Batman.

- Batman?
- Yes, Miss Pinkston.

I wanna thank you for cooperating
with me and your police department...

and running down
your felonious foreman...

and apparently chasing
The Green Hornet out of town.

I did nothing, Batman.

But it was sweet of you to call. Goodbye.

Good bye.

Now does that disapprove
your ridiculous theory?

I guess it does.

Oh, here comes Bruce now.

Please don't tell him,
he'd think I was an awful fool.

That he would, Pinky.

Sorry, my car keys
were in my pocket all the time.

Now, Apricot, as you were saying...

Bruce, you nut. Talking to a dog?