Batman s02e04 Episode Script

Hello, Gotham, I'm home.
- Hello, Ronnie.
- Ronnie! Veronica, darling, you look smashing.
How did you like the rain forest? The food was appalling, the accommodations were nonexistent and the bugs were the size of my trust fund.
But seriously, it's important we all do our part to preserve those precious resources.
- Hear, hear.
- Absolutely.
Look at them, celebrating without a care in the world.
I think it's great Veronica's finally doing something worthwhile with her money.
I'm sorry, Bruce.
The securities business has been rough lately.
Lot of late hours.
Seems all I do is worry about how to get my company through one more day.
Worries, Hayden? I have the cure for that.
- I'm a little old for dolls, don't you think? - Not these dolls.
They're Worry Men from Central America.
Legends say you tell them your problems, then put them under your pillow.
They'll do your worrying for you while you sleep.
And when you wake up, poof, your problems are gone.
Oh, come on, Ronnie.
You're the last one I'd think would fall for some tribal hoodoo.
Don't be so smug, Brucie.
When I was in the jungle, I saw some things you'd never believe.
And I tell you, I haven't had a bad night's sleep since my trip.
Well, sounds great to me.
In fact, the little darlings work their magic for me all day long.
See, aren't they precious? - I just couldn't get along without them.
- Thanks, Ron.
I've got a few more rounds to make.
If ever someone led a worry-free life, it's you, Bruce Wayne.
I've got one for everybody.
Party crasher.
Nasty toy.
Ready to call it a night? Oh, my heavens! Tell me, Alfred what's an ancient Mayan witch doctor doing on a Gotham skyscraper? This isn't one of those Riddler questions, is it? No, but it's just as confusing.
There's someone new in town using Mayan tribal gimmicks in his crimes.
- Blowguns, stone weapons.
- Voodoo dolls? Oh, that's some party favor from Veronica's party.
They're supposed to take away your worries while you sleep.
Imagine that.
What some overworked souls won't do to get a good night's rest.
Still, every little bit helps.
I tell you, child, I handle all sorts of things for Mr.
Wayne but this one really takes the cake.
- Oh, morning, Dana.
- Oh, I gotta go.
Bye-bye.
Sometimes I forget how beautiful Gotham can be.
You're in fine spirits, I must say.
A good night's sleep, and I'm ready to take on the world.
- You got everything all right? - I followed your message to the letter.
- But I can't help wondering what - Thank you.
I know it's your company, Mr.
Wayne, but $20 million, man.
- That's a lot of money.
- Yes, it is.
What's your point? Well, I'd sure feel uncomfortable walking around with all that cash in a tiny little briefcase.
Dana, I'm sorry.
I'm not following this.
What cash? What briefcase? The $20 million you told me to put in a briefcase for you.
You're not making any sense.
The $20 million I told you to put in a briefcase? You call me from your car, gave me your account number told me to transfer $20 million in cash and Hey! Twenty million of my money in that case? I hope you're not going to take it out of my salary.
Millions of dollars are missing since this morning, Mr.
Sloane.
If it wasn't you, then who? But I don't know, I tell you.
I don't know.
Why would I do it? Why? That was the scene today as broker Hayden Sloane was arrested on charges of embezzlement.
Sloane joins the growing list of wealthy Gothamites who, for reasons unknown have pilfered their own companies for a combined total of $ 100 million.
Unbelievable.
And you have no clue how this could have happened? I do now.
Each of us was a guest at Veronica Vreeland's party.
If there are answers, she's got them.
Miss Vreeland.
Batman? Let me help you with your bag.
No, you stay back.
This is mine, you hear? Mine.
I know it's yours.
What were you planning to do with it? I have to throw it overboard because Because Excuse me, I don't feel very well.
Care to explain these? My jewels! How did they get here? - Don't you remember? - No, everything's a blank.
L Leave him alone, you swine! Please? My therapist's never going to believe this.
And I thought you were supposed to take away my worries.
Well, say goodbye, you troublesome little trinkets.
Wait.
These dolls.
Where did you get them? From a craftsman at a small village.
A funny little man in a giant straw hat.
An Englishman? Why, yes.
And he suggested giving the dolls to your society friends.
What, are you psychic too? Just picking up on the pattern.
Sir, you have no idea how terrible I feel to have played a part in this.
Neither you nor Veronica could have known that hidden in each doll was a microchip designed to stimulate a sleeper's brainwaves and make them susceptible to hypnotic suggestion.
Creating a radio receiver of sorts out of an entranced human mind? Exactly.
And who knows how to warp the human mind better than Jervis Tetch, the Mad Hatter.
"O frabjous day, callooh, callay" He chortled in his joy It's sheer brilliance.
A wonderland of treasures all willingly donated by Gotham's simpering elite.
And now come the famous Vreeland jewels to dance at my heels.
What? How dare you return empty-handed? Forgive us, sir.
But Batman showed up and Batman? You insufferable fools.
You can't even handle one man dressed up like a flying mouse? Oh, and what's this? What's this? You've graciously left part of your cloak behind as Batman's invitation to waltz right into our midst.
And that's just what he'll do, won't he? Of course he will.
And far be it for me to disappoint him when he arrives.
As you predicted, sir, the computer has identified this scrap of artificial fur as a type used in theatrical productions.
Which would make its most probable source of origin The Great Eastern Costume Company.
It's been closed for years making it a perfect hideout for the Mad Hatter.
I knew you were coming, so I thought I'd have some of the old chaps round to make you feel at home.
How is Batman like a doughnut shop? They're both filled with holes.
Should have warned you, old boy.
That lot's real.
Delightful.
Oh, quite a bonus to add to my already substantial collection.
You disappoint me, Tetch.
For all your brilliance, you've become just another thief.
You make it sound so common.
Well, actually, Batman you'll be happy to know you're witnessing my retirement from crime.
See, after my recent release from Arkham I vowed to leave Gotham and my wicked ways behind me.
Perhaps buy a little island somewhere and open a sunbonnet shop.
Oh, but islands, even little ones, cost money.
Lots of money.
And then I heard of Ms.
Vreeland's well-publicized trek into the rain forest.
Yes, I realized at once she'd be the perfect unwitting partner in my scheme.
Investing what limited funds I had I managed to follow dear Ronnie into the forest where, at a small native village, she made the acquaintance of my specially created Worry Men.
Though I can't take complete credit.
I provided the microcircuitry, of course, but my good friend here supplied the dolls.
Can you believe it? He was just an honest native craftsman until I changed his mind about helping me.
Those others are riffraff culled out of various Gotham street gangs.
Gutter trash of no great importance.
So as this is my farewell to crime, I think I'll take a souvenir to mark the occasion.
No matter.
I have a better way to remove that nasty old cowl.
Stop! You don't know what you're doing.
Oh, that noise! What's going on? How did I get here? Oh, you're a clever one.
But I will not be denied.
As the great Lewis Carroll said: One, two One, two And through and through The vorpal blade went snicker-snack He left it dead, and with its head He went galumphing back No! Stop.
I command you.
So we're gutter trash, are we? Who's calling the shots now? - Stop! - Yes.
Stop.
Leave him to the police.
Thank you.
Thank you, you generous, forgiving, noble fool.
Stand back, all of you.
I'm getting out.
But not before I sew up one last loose end.
What? Tomorrow this all goes back to the company.
Minus the cost of a plane ticket home for our kidnapped doll maker.
I must say, after all the Hatter put him through that fellow showed remarkable restraint.
When everything was said and done, all the shaman really wanted was to go home.
In fact, I hear he even sent the Hatter a farewell gift.
Something to ensure that Jervis Tetch only dreams of a good, honest life from now on.