Original subtitles

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.

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 locked 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 chum.

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.

Dalí? 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.

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

It is a rare honor to have you here, Señor 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, señor.

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, Señor 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 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.

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, out with 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.

Goodbye.

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?