All language subtitles for Batman S03E23 Be a Mummy s Uncle.DVDVRip.NonHI.en.WB

Mount Ararat Hospital
in Gotham City...

where King Tut's
psychoanalysis goes on and on.

The old adage about the apple not falling
far from the tree just ain't necessarily so.

How?

Dr. Denton.

Dr. Denton?

Spunky?

Rock-a-bye baby on the treetop

When the wind...

Dirty asp in the
grass. He locked it.

So I said to Daddy, "But I'm
too young to get married, Pa.

I'm only 12 years old."

You know, I always had a feeling
you never really listened to me.

Con... Continue.

Meanwhile, at the offices of
the Rosetta Stone Company...

Why me? Why me?

Why not you?

- That's logical.
- I'm nothing if not logical.

Take only $47,000, Tutlings.

But there's 76,000, poopsie.

No need to be a pig
about these things.

We have the money,
almighty king of rogues.

Master of Thebes.

Ruler of darkness.

Defender of Egypt.

Don Juan of Aswân.

- King of the Nile.
- Wait a minute. Take it back one.

- Don Juan of Aswân?
- Yeah, I like that. Leave it in. Ha, ha.

Yes?

Oh, hello, Dr. Denton.

What?

King Tut?

Yes. Yes, of course.
I'll contact him at once.

What a shame.

At last report, our able Yale professor
was well on his way to recovery.

Another six or seven
months of intensive analysis...

and he might have
been completely cured.

Ah, yes, but as John
Greenleaf Whittier said:

"For of all sad words of tongue or pen, the
saddest are these: 'It might have been."'

"Maud Muller," stanza 53.

Very good, Robin. I didn't know
you were a student of the classics.

Batman teaches me a little poetry in
between remanding criminals to jail.

Enough prose and cons, Robin.

Now, where can we
find Rosetta Stone?

Resting comfortably at
home: 328 Kangaroo Court.

I trust a visit from us
wouldn't be too upsetting.

She's expecting you, Batman.

Ah, good. Let's go, Robin.

Hi-ho.

So you made up your mind, Daddy.
You'd really like to move to the suburbs.

Heh. It might be a pleasant
change from my old brownstone.

If I only had time to
find a place. Oh, my.

Well, if I get a chance today, I'll check with
a real estate broker or two for you, okay?

Thank you, darling.

- Bye, Daddy. Bye, Chief O'Hara.
- Bye-bye.

Shortly, at Florence of
Arabia's, an intime boîte...

in the middle east
side of Gotham City...

Ah, turkey legs.

My favorite fruit.

Florence, a little more
pressed grape, if you please.

Oh, I'm sorry, poopsie.

I guess I got a
little carried away.

No matter, Flo.

Your assets far
outnumber your liabilities.

Oh, that this too, too
solid flesh would melt.

- Why don't you go on a diet, fatty?
- "Why don't you go on a diet?"

Why don't you mind
your own skinny business?

Now, being Egyptian...

naturally, I have a
nose for Nilanium.

Nilanium, the hardest
metal in the world.

It was once found
only in the Nile Basin.

But when that was flooded by the Aswân Dam,
this precious deposit was lost forever.

So forever is something you
can't do much about, huh, poopsie?

Wrong again, Florence.

My nose for Nilanium tells me that
there is another invaluable deposit...

right here in Gotham City.

Right where in Gotham City?

Unfortunately, said reserves rest
directly under stately Wayne Manor.

Wayne Manor?

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

But you can't buy
that for 47,000.

But I can and will buy some land directly
adjacent to the estate for that exact sum.

And once that's done, we'll start drilling
for my Nilanium and make a fortune.

- How?
- By making the hardest objects in the world...

out of the hardest metal.

Indestructible machines,
indestructible buildings.

I'll build an indestructible empire
that no one will be able to destruct!

But isn't that Nilanium really the
property of millionaire Bruce Wayne?

Yeah, it would have to be under
his property. Money goes to money.

But not this money.

We're going to engage
in a bit of slant mining.

Where to, almighty monarch?

To the office of Manny
the Mesopotamian...

an unscrupulous real estate
broker of my acquaintance...

and by merest circumstance...

the man who has the listing on
the property next to Wayne Manor.

Forty-seven
thousand dollars, sir?

But isn't that rather an odd
sum for King Tut to take?

Yes, it is, Alfred.

Rosetta Stone told us that Tut
didn't wanna be a pig about it.

Bacon.

Pig.

It's against Egyptian
dietary laws to eat pig.

Ergo, I think it was a ruse on
his part to obscure the truth.

Well, what is the truth, Batman?

Perhaps he intends buying
something that costs exactly $47,000.

Let's see what the
Batcomputer has to offer.

- It seems a little uncertain, Batman.
- Certainly does.

No wonder. "Northeast section of
millionaire Bruce Wayne's property."

The Batcomputer said that?

But that's only
partly right, Alfred.

I have put a 200-foot lot up for sale on
the edge of stately Wayne Manor estate...

to help alleviate the
property shortage.

Jolly decent of you, sir.
- Yeah.

But I gave the real estate
broker specific instructions...

to ask for a firm
$48,000, not $47,000.

This machine needs oiling.

How much do you have
to spend, Ms. Gordon?

Well, actually, it isn't me,
it's my father, Mr., uh...

Just call me Manny. Everybody
does. That's my name, Manny.

Well, my father is tired of city congestion
and thought he might make a good deal here.

Well, frankly, Ms. Gordon, if I were your
father, I'd just forget about this area entirely.

Why, this afternoon, I have a deal where I'm
selling a lot without a house for $47,000.

- Is that the one? "Lot, $48,000 firm"?
- Yes.

- I'm cutting my commission to make the deal.
- Is that legal?

Well, legal, yes, ethical, no, but
nobody ever accused me of being ethical.

Well, thank you very
much. I'll call my father.

Good day, Ms. Gordon.

Salaam yourself, Manny.
No time for pleasantries.

- You have the contract?
- I have the contract.

- You have the money?
- Give him the money.

Thank you very much. Just sign right there.
That's it. Right there. That's right.

- What? No middle initial?
- I never use it.

Heh. That's what I like
about you fellas. No haggling.

Hello, Mr. Wayne?
This is Batgirl.

Why, hello, Batgirl.

To what do I owe this
unexpected honor?

I've discovered that King Tut
has purchased a plot of land...

adjacent to your
property, Mr. Wayne.

King Tut?

Well, that should make a
very interesting neighborhood...

probably drive the real
estate values straight down.

I'm sure he has some
diabolical scheme in mind.

I thought you should be made aware of it.
I'm going to try and contact Batman now.

I may be talking to him shortly myself, Batgirl.
Perhaps I can give him a message for you.

Yes. Tell him I'll be in Commissioner
Gordon's office in half an hour.

Perhaps we should meet
and plan a joint attack.

Right. Thanks
for the information.

Of what possible use could
that land be to a man like Tut?

Maybe he wants to just
settle down and build a house.

No, I think not, Robin.
Tut doesn't impress me...

as the be-it-ever-so-humble-
there-is-no-place-like-home type of individual.

What is it, Batman?

A potpourri of news,
Robin, both good and bad.

What's the good news?

Stately Wayne Manor is sitting
on a priceless reserve of Nilanium.

Holy hardest metal in the world.

But what's the bad news?

The special seismological
attachment to the Batcomputer...

has divined that King Tut
has started mining Nilanium...

and his mining
operations are aimed...

Is it possible?

- His mining operations are aimed...
- Into what, Batman?

Directly into the Batcave.

It's no use, Robin.

His shaft is more than halfway here
and should be entering the Batcave shortly.

Isn't there anything we can do to
divert them so they'd miss the Batcave?

The Batanium Shield lining the Batcave might
protect us from his blasting, but I doubt it.

No, we'll have to go topside and
nab him before he strikes pay dirt.

Nab him where?

I suspect he may be operating
from an abandoned mine...

on that property he bought.

Aren't we gonna
take the Batmobile?

It's too risky.

There's so many people in the area, they might
spot us as we drive out the secret entrance.

No, we'll use the subterranean
blue grotto exit after I make this call.

Yes, Batman? Right.

As we hoped,
it's for you, Batgirl.

Yes, Batman?

There's a deserted mine entrance one mile
north-northeast of stately Wayne Manor.

- Could you meet us there?
- Anything wrong?

- Everything's wrong.
- I'll be there as soon as possible.

What now, Batman?

According to my Bat-compass...

north by northeast is in a general
north-northeasterly direction.

Shouldn't take us more than
three minutes to run the mile.

Gosh, Batman, that's
a new world's record.

Breaking world's records is
just part of crime-fighting, Robin.

Now.

But will they be too late?

For at this very moment...

outside the abandoned cave
from which Tut is operating...

How much longer do you
think it'll take, royal geologist?

Well...

How come he gets to be royal haggler
and royal tailor and royal geologist too?

We're working on a close
budget, royal boobula.

When we strike Nilanium...

I'll have enough scratch to
hire a complete royal entourage.

We should be there
right about now.

Oh. Here comes H.L. Hunter,
the royal mining foreman.

What ho, H.L.? Strike anything?

You know, we done struck
something, but it weren't no Nilanium.

- I think we done struck trouble.
- Why?

Well, it seems that there's a big
cave directly beneath Wayne Manor.

It's lined with some hard
substance, so we can't blast through it.

Perhaps we've struck
a vein of Nilanium.

But it shouldn't be
that hard till it's refined.

- Do you have any more dynamite?
- Sure, but we got no one to blast it.

None of my men
wanna take the chance.

It's sort of dangerous.

I'll do it.

Danger is my middle name.

Show me the way.

You aren't going anywhere, Tut.

Ah, look who's here,
the Dynamic Dullards.

Plus one.

Oh, and the Dynamic Duenna.

Instruct your royal yeggs to come
quietly, or you'll incur our wrath.

Not by the hair on
my chinny chin chin.

Come on, boys. We've
got too much to lose.

I didn't know we're
doing anything illegal.

Mining into and under other
people's property is not illegal?

- Not when you're slant drilling for oil.
- Which you were not.

It's obvious that you're
an innocent miner.

All right, you may
go. Whoa, whoa.

- But this will take us to the bottom of the shaft.
- That's better than facing the Tawdry Trio.

Mush!

- They must have gone down.
- Holy journey to center of the Earth.

- They won't stop until they...
- Bottom. Until they reach the bottom.

But where is the bottom?

Batgirl, you stand guard
in case they come back up.

This time, we're gonna have to make
the two-minute mark in the mile, Robin.

Let's go.

Oh! Oh, do my old
eyes deceive me?

Oh, happiness unbounded.

Oh, great blobs of joy.

Eureka! I have found it.

The Batcave.

Right under Wayne Manor.

Oh, dream of ha...

Right under Wayne Manor?

That means that
they're... Carry the three...

That means Robin and Batman are
really Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson.

Oh, the world is my oyster.

And everyone will
be bringing me sauce.

A little winded, old chum?

It takes more than a two-minute
mile to make me winded, Batman.

Oh!

Ah! Yeesh!

Oh, how time flies when
you're having fun. Ha-ha-ha!

- What will we do about
that? TUT: Yeah. Yeah.

It's always darkest
before the dawn, Robin.

I know, I know, and a
rolling stone gathers no moss.

And we shouldn't
cry over spilt milk.

Or waste time with old clichés.

- Where is everybody, Batgirl?
- I'm here.

Well, he means Batman,
Robin and King Tut.

Oh, they've all gone on a journey to
the center of the Earth or something.

The center of what?

Oh, Florence, the fruits
of victory are sweet indeed.

Maybe, Tut, but you'll
still choke on them.

From the mouths of
babes ofttimes comes pap.

- Are you ready to give yourselves up?
- Not to you, Bat-dope...

or your 97-pound
weakling bird boy.

And where's your
feminine friend?

Don't want her to know you're
really Bruce Wayne, do you?

Well, soon the world will know.

You'll have to kill us to
keep our mouths shut.

Tutlings, follow me.

I'll give them
Batnesia Gas, Robin.

Tell Alfred take them topside and deposit
them on the lawn. They won't remember a thing.

Roger.

What about me, Batman?

You'll have to kill
me to keep me quiet.

No, I won't.

King Tut ran up the shaft.

Yes, moves quickly for an overstuffed
and unlikely Egyptian pharaoh.

We must catch him before
he reaches the end of the shaft.

Ah, drat, we're out
of Batnesia Gas.

Now we really must catch Tut
before he reaches the end of the shaft.

Are you ready to be
incarcerated, King Tut?

With the greatest pleasure.

You could jail me for a million
years and I wouldn't flinch an inch.

Oh, at last, nirvana
is within my grasp.

You appear to be breezy for a
man about to be tucked away.

I know. And so would you
if you knew what I know.

And if I know you, no doubt you
know what I know now, no, huh?

Why waste time with someone who knows?
Gotta find someone who doesn't. You know?

- No.
- Sounds like the riddle of the sphinx.

Nothing so simple
as that, dear lady.

I hold the key to the
riddle of the ages.

You're too late,
Dynamic Dimwits.

Holy waste of energy.

- What has he told you?
- Nothing.

He's been running off at the
mouth about some secret or riddle.

The beans, so to speak,
are about to be spilled.

Batman and Robin, prepare to
meet the end of your usefulness.

Lady and gentlemen,
Batman and Robin are...

It's only gonna prolong
the agony, Batman.

Not necessarily, Robin.

That blow on his head could
be exactly what saves us.

I certainly hope so.

Where am I?

You were about to tell
us a secret, King Tut.

King Tut? My name is
William Omaha McElroy...

and I'm professor of
Egyptology at Yale University.

You don't remember what
you were going to tell us?

Who do you have a
purple mask on, lady?

I'm going to be late for class.

- Uh, just a moment, professor.
- You can't walk off like this.

Harvard people,
nice speaking to you.

Holy razor's edge.
Was that a close shave.

A calculated risk, Robin.

The shale held up by those sagging
timbers has been shifting for decades.

All we had to do was
taunt Tut with our silence.

This caused him to raise his
voice three decibels above high C...

which caused the cave-in, which,
of course, returned him to normalcy.

But how could you be so sure?

I really couldn't, Robin.

Earth movement is an
inexact science at best.

Matter of fact, yodels have been
known to cause avalanches in the Alps.

A mere sneeze was the cause
of the 1923 Appalachian cave-in.

But suppose
something went wrong.

Suppose Tut didn't raise
his voice. What then?

I prefer not to think about those
things, Robin. They depress me.

Thank you, sir, for calling.

That was the president of
Yale University, Chief O'Hara.

Our eminent professor of Egyptology
has completely returned to normal.

Mm. Let's hope his ego has
returned to the altar in ancient Egypt.

Daddy, have you
heard the latest rumors?

All of Gotham City is buzzing about
an imminent invasion of flying saucers.

Well, now...

Gotham City is usually buzzing
about something, Barbara.

- Well, let's take a look anyway, commissioner.
- All right.

Let me have those.

Well, now, let's see. Uh-huh.

All I can see is sky,
clouds and a few birds.

Let's see what you can find, chief.
- Hmm.

Well, there's a blimp trailing some
joker's used-car advertisements.

Look again. In
this flying saucer...

the Joker is planning an
incredible invasion of Gotham City.

As soon as the range-sweep radar scanner
picks up the tracking pulse amplifier...

we will spin back into the substratosphere,
where I will issue my demands...

that will have not only all of
Gotham City but the world at my feet.