Peace, man.
- All right, young people of Gotham,
let's give it up for teen folk sensation
Avie, Davie, and Hector!
Wow, we have a well-behaved group of youngsters
out here at Riverwalk tonight.
Come on, you kids, let's hear it for courtesy.
- Good one, Butch. - Shut up, Spike.
- Excuse me, you're very impolite.
- Ah, go step on a rake, clean bean.
- Yeah, here's a nickel for the trolley, you drip.
- Oh!
- Oh, leave her alone. - What's it to you, Tommy?
- Yeah, what's with you tonight, Tommy?
This whole scene's a drag.
Let's go bust windows in the warehouse district.
- And now, teens of Gotham City,
the moment this musical festival
has been building to all night.
Give it up for the Electric Soda Fountain!
- Oh, man, the real cornball stuff.
- We can't leave now.
- I definitely think it's time to bust out the stash.
- Ah, yes. Butch is holding the thrill pills.
You ready to spook your noodle, Tommy?
- What, seriously? You scored scarecrow drugs?
- Quality scarecrow drugs. The new stuff.
What do I take?
I've never done a real deal fright trip.
No? Ah, it's the best.
It's like watching the greatest horror movie ever made
while you're riding the world's sickest roller coaster.
Purest thrills, man.
- Okay, I'm in.
- Ah, yes.
Okay, here, you're gonna want some candy corn
to take the edge off the ghosties.
- Okay, down the hatch.
So how long does it take to...
- Wait, maybe you don't take the candy corn
and ghosties together.
- What? - Oh, shoot.
Did he take corn and ghosties together?
Oh, man, I think that was too much.
What do you mean, too much?
Butch?
- Man, he's tripping. Look at him, Spike.
- Butch? - Tommy, you okay, man?
I don't feel too good, Butch.
- Butch can't hear you, but I can.
Hello, Tommy.
What did you say, Spike?
I didn't say anything, man.
He didn't say anything, man.
I did. This is Scarecrow.
- Boo!
Man, he's seriously tripping.
What do we do?
- You are seriously tripping, man.
What do you do?
- Tommy, listen, this is real important.
- You gotta-- - Ah!
- Don't listen to them, Tommy. They're not your friends.
Blink once if you understand me.
- Good. - What?
Where are you?
- Oh, you nut, I'm in your head.
Don't you remember? You invited me.
Mm, it's nice in here.
It's red and warm.
But I'm afraid there--there's no windows
and no doors, Tommy, so obviously--
I'm gonna have to eat my way out
from the inside.
What is--what is that?
- W-what is making that noise? - Maybe it's nothing.
Maybe this is all just my drugs.
Maybe you're just curled up in a ball on the ground
at the Gotham Youth Music Festival,
and none of this is happening.
Or...
Oh, shoot.
Maybe the concert was hours ago.
Hey, where'd everybody go?
Think hard, Tommy.
Where are you anyway?
- Oh, shoot. Maybe the concert was days ago.
Oh, gee, you must be hungry.
What's that smell?
- What luck, I've invited some friends over.
We're just sitting down to eat.
Tommy, Tommy, you're afraid, aren't you?
You're afraid, and it's delicious.
- Mmm.
Oh, your fear, Tommy,
it's fatty and rich yet bitter.
It's like bone marrow spread on burnt black toast,
and I want to gobble it all up.
Mmm, gobble!
- Mmm. Gobble, gobble, gobble. - I don't--
Oh, Tommy,
rude of me.
Won't you join us?
I made you something special.
- I'm good. I don't need--
Take the cover off the dish.
- I don't wanna take the cover--
- Take the cover off the dish, Tommy!
What is that?
- What? No! - What's happening?
Batman!
Take him down. Use the grenades.
Blow the charges!
Time to shuffle off to Buffalo.
Please, what is happening?
- Tommy. - Who--
- You're going to be all right.
I'm going to get you out of here.
- Do you understand? - What?
- You've been abducted by the Scarecrow,
but I'm here to rescue you.
- You're--you're-- - That's right, Tommy.
I'm Batman.
Batman. Batman. Batman.
- Gotham, the city that never sleeps
because it lies on a bed of nails.
Join us once again for a tale of life and death
in Gotham City.
The calendar says March 1st,
but it's just another day
in the Scarecrow's reign of terror.
The rooftop of Gotham Police headquarters
offers an unrivaled vantage point
on all eight districts of the world's largest city.
By the last official census, 12 million desperate souls
claim citizenship in Gotham,
and Commissioner Gordon takes seriously his oath
to protect and serve each one of them.
But tonight, his immediate concerns
are focused on one citizen in particular.
Hi, sweetie. It's Dad.
How are things at the library?
I'm sorry, can you speak up a little bit, honey?
No, I guess you can't.
That's right, it's a library.
I'm sorry. Well, you can just listen then.
I wanted to call and tell you that boy that went missing
from the Youth Concert, the Batman brought him home
to his parents, but he is in rough shape.
Seems he OD'd on Scarecrow drugs
and got ditch by his friends,
and then at some point-- why am I telling you this?
I thought you said you went to school with this boy.
Tommy Zeppetelli, I think his name--no?
Huh.
Well, boy, I thought that y'all went to--
Okay, fine.
I just--you know you're at that age
where bad ideas can seem like good ideas.
And in case you ever felt pressured
to take Scarecrow drugs, I mean,
what is it they say?
It's like watching a horror movie
while you're getting sick on a roller coaster.
What you mean, me?
Three cigarettes today.
But that's it. I'm done for tonight.
And then tomorrow it'll be two.
And I promise, I'm gonna quit again by the weekend.
Wait, how did this become about me?
Yeah, all right. Yeah, okay, sweetie.
I love you too.
Where are my smokes?
- I assume you're looking for these?
Ah! How?
And when did you have the time to--
- I'll give them back to you, of course.
But only if you've decided to be dishonest
- with your daughter. - What? No.
No, I was actually gonna throw them out,
quit a few days early.
- Mm, glad I could help. Sorry to keep you waiting.
- You know, you're going to give me a heart attack
before the cigarettes ever do.
- I'm easily able to resuscitate you,
should that happen.
- Oh, well, that's good to know.
- How's the boy? - Physically unharmed.
Deeply traumatized.
I found him in another one
of Scarecrow's makeshift haunted houses.
This one was an abandoned funeral home
in Sycamore Hill, elaborately staged
to evoke raw terror in his hostage like the others,
but this was something new.
The exterior was dark, unguarded.
Cell phone data placed the boy inside,
but I decided not to take any chances
with entry at street level.
Scarecrow loves his booby traps.
I slipped in through a second story window.
Thermal showed six hostiles directly below me
guarding the door to the cellar.
Bruisers with beer guts and sawed-off pool cues.
More of the Scarecrow's biker goons.
The abducted boy was down in that cellar.
Every second I delayed was an eternity for him
in Scarecrow's manufactured nightmare,
so I decided on a strategy of maximum theatricality,
micro-charges at my feet
sufficient to blast a hole in the floor.
Drop down on them from above
in a hail of plaster and choking black smoke.
Heart rates and blood pressure in all of them
went through the roof.
I've dealt with this gang before.
They're twitchy and paranoid,
but even better, they're afraid of me,
so I made my move.
The Scarecrow has a new trick.
They were energized by their fear.
I don't know what drugs he has them on now,
but I know a synthetic adrenaline response.
The more afraid they felt, the more focused they became.
It threw me off my rhythm.
I took a pool cue hard to the throat.
Three of them rushed me, and I was pinned to the floor,
boots on my skull.
- And the fourth... - Ha-ha-ha!
- Apparently thought to bring along a chain saw.
I had one option, if I could just reach my belt.
Rolled out of the way with nothing to spare.
Bottom line, he missed his one shot.
He was sweating profusely, wild-eyed, terrified
of what I was about to do to him,
but he still fought like the devil himself
was giving the orders.
I had sympathy for the mope,
but that didn't mean I went easy on him.
I heard something coming from the cellar.
Infrared detected concentrated fumes
escaping from the crack under the door.
Hallucinogenic gas.
The air down there
was literally saturated with nightmares.
I deployed the respirator in my mask,
kicked in the door.
I thought I was prepared for what was behind it.
I was wrong.
Crouching at the foot of the rotten staircase,
it made no sense.
- It was-- - A helicopter?
Hey!
Who do you think you are?
You can't land that thing here.
- Apologies are due to patrons of this broadcast.
The rest of Batman's harrowing report will have to wait
because the airspace above Police HQ
has just been violated
by a whimsically decorated Sikorsky helicopter.
- I said you cannot land that thing--
Ahoy, there! I say!
What ho! Ha-ha!
Oswald Cobblepot?
Ahoy, I say!
Permission to come aboard, Gordon, old sport?
- What--what do you think you're doing with that thing?
My Whirlybird?
It's new. Do you like it?
- You can't park that thing here!
Actually, he can.
The GCPD helipad is designated a public resource
under the new provisions established
by his civilian oversight board.
- Now, there's a man with all the answers,
unless the question is, "Do you know a good tailor?"
Oh, I am good.
Well, well, my chiropteran comrade.
Long time, no see, eh?
Oh, so you two really do have an old boys club up here.
- The rumors are true. - Yes.
While you profiteer,
we're working to bring the Scarecrow to justice.
I advise you to keep your provocations
from interfering with vital police work, Penguin.
I answer to my name, Batman.
Do me the courtesy of respecting that.
As for your efforts to apprehend
an unusually creative drug pusher
in a spook-house mask, oh, do tell.
But what the good people of this city
really want to know is, what about the Joker?
Why is Gotham's public enemy number one
still out there?
- Joker can't simply be hauled in off the street,
even when he can be found.
He's got extensive insurance.
- What, what, what? What insurance?
- A vast network of disciples, devotees,
willing hostages.
There are untold numbers of desperate souls
in this city who will do harm to themselves
and others unless the Joker is around to tell them not to.
He's like a cancer that has grown
in the broken people of Gotham,
but he's also the chemo that's keeping them alive.
Balderdash.
The city deserves to be rid of that maniac,
and I'm going to be the one to get the job done.
Now go find a mummers parade, you ridiculous kook.
I've got real work to do.
- We got eyes on him, Batman. - I know you do.
But there're going to be limits to our control
of the situation.
Harvey Dent's legal expertise
has given Penguin appalling latitude.
I can only imagine the strain on Harvey.
He was in bad need of mental health care
even before the Penguin started running him ragged.
- Well, at least he's been off the street.
- My guess is the Penguin has him medicated.
It's a low priority.
We need to remain focused on the Scarecrow.
- Well, I've got some good news on that front.
Just got word from our undercover man
inside the Scarecrow gang.
His cover is holding?
- Says they don't suspect a thing,
and tonight, he meets the man himself.
If all goes well, in a matter of hours,
we'll finally know the true identity of the Scarecrow.
A mask of burlap.
The vacant stare of a thing confected to terrify.
But whose black eyes blink behind it?
The answer is written in invisible ink
by the cramped hand of life and death
in Gotham City.
- In baseball news, the streak continues
for the mighty swat fly shot.
- Are you looking for a kooky clown?
Are you looking for a silly clown?
Are you looking for a tipsy clown?
Then you're not looking for Blabbo the Birthday Clown.
Not anymore.
Yes, Blabbo the Birthday Clown has had a few ups and downs,
but now he's as sober as Old Mrs. Murphy.
Hire him for your child's birthday
and the only thing you'll smell
on his breath is laughter.
Enigmatic. Harlequin.
Absurd. Harlequin.
Irrepressible. The Harlequin is finally here.
Harlequin.
- Gotham, a greenhouse of smoked glass
where only the night flowers grow.
Join us for another tale of life and death
in Gotham City.
Welcome to Crime Alley
and the infamous Riverside Lounge.
To call it a dive bar is an insult
to holes in the wall.
It's a lint trap for assorted lowlifes
looking for some combination of violence and oblivion.
The selection of top shelf libations
on offer is easy to recite.
There is no top shelf
or much else in the way of décor,
for that matter.
A sufficiency of barstools,
a tombstone radio squawking on the sideboard,
and an ancient billiards table covered in ratty scarlet felt.
- You scratched. - Says you.
I get ball in hand.
You touch that cue ball,
I'll bust your thumbs with it.
- It's not so much a local watering hole
as it is a flea-bitten menagerie
of malfunctioning passions,
which also happens to be a fitting description
for the young woman suddenly standing
in the front doorway.
Look alive, you stewbums.
Who said start to drinking without me?
You got taters in your ears, spud?
- Huh? - I'm pulling your leg.
Come on, I'll buy you a round. Sheesh. What a daisy.
- Harleen Quinzel has not slept in quite a while.
Who can sleep? There's so much to do.
- Oh, boy, I tell you what, fellas.
What a day I'm having.
Pour me the usual, would you, Johnny?
And give that trick elbow a workout, you bum.
So get a load of this.
Lady next to me on the bus
wearing the tallest hat you ever seen
has a goldfish bowl in her lap.
Big goldfish bowl full of water.
No goldfish.
So I says to her, I says, "Hey, lady.
I think your fish got off a few stops ago."
- You know what she says to me? - Uh...
- She looks down all surprised, and she says,
"Well, don't that beat it all?
I thought he was just giving me the silent treatment again."
Oh, don't laugh. That's a stinker.
All right, so what are we playing here, you mugs?
9-Ball, Texas Express,
no break box Mosconi Cup? Chalk or walk, boys.
Who's got next? Hey, Johnny!
- Who the heck is this loony dish?
I got no idea.
- Hey, where's that drink, Johnny?
Do I gotta pour it myself?
His name's Manuel.
- And he can't pour you your regular
because you is not a regular.
- No? - No.
- We don't know you from Batman, lady.
- What? Well, how do you like that?
Huh? I thought this was one of them joints
where everybody knows your name.
Well, apology accepted, fellas. Let's move past it.
I came all the way downtown to this stink pit
'cause I wanna discuss a business proposition.
- That's seems to have consumed
the last of the good will in the establishment.
The clientele of the Riverside begins to move menacingly
towards the loopy interloper.
- Okay, lady. - Hey, no, no, no.
No need to rush the dance floor, youse guys.
Okay, okay, you got me.
Sharp eye. I'm new around these parts.
- Well, we usually don't take kindly to strangers,
- do we, Nero? - Not kindly, no, Rosso.
- What do we usually take to strangers, Nero?
- We take a blowtorch to strangers mostly, Rosso.
Though sometimes we take a crowbar to them
on account of that's better for the environment.
- Oh, whoa, you mooks lay it on thick. I love it.
And I don't want to waste a bit of that moxie,
so I'll cut to the chase.
I'm here on very important business.
- What business? - It's simple.
You see, a while back, I was a doctor or something.
But then I fell into a vat and became a waitress
till my boss ended up dumplings,
then my banana rang and told me
I needed to start a crime gang
to get the Joker to marry me,
and now you're all caught up.
So who's in, and how soon can you start criming?
Oh, man.
That is good Gotham crazy, lady.
- Marry the Joker? - You? As if.
Get lost, String Bean Jean.
You ain't exactly the criming type.
- Yeah, go home and feed your turtles, lady.
- Okay, Rosso, three ball, corner pocket.
Ah!
- Exploding into an incandescent crimson fury,
Harleen suddenly snatches the ivory billiard ball.
- Hey, what the-- - Put that down.
- What in the--
Sweet petunia,
she just took a bite out of the cue ball.
Ow!
I don't think you spider monkeys
are getting the picture.
- Get out of the way. She's gonna flip the--
- Jump jaybirds!
That cue ball's nothing.
I got a love inside me
that's taking big, sloppy bites outta my crackers, capisce?
I needs me my man,
or I'm fixing to I don't know what.
But I'm keen to woodshed a few ideas
on you chicken cutlets.
Now, you mugs getting on board the program,
or am I kicking off this crime spree
with a mass murder?
- Holy cannoli. It's a she-Joker.
- They're like two peas in a freaking pod.
- Well? - Hey, listen, lady.
You're a natural. That much ain't up for debate.
But you're kind of going about this all wrong.
- Yeah? - Yeah.
You can't get anywhere in this town
without a solid gimmick.
- A gimmick? - Yeah.
Some kind of an angle.
Like, nobody's just a crook in Gotham anymore.
You can just go out there
like Plain Jane Doe.
Crime is a big show now.
You gotta have a theme, you know?
A theme. A look. The works.
- No street cred in Gotham anymore
without a solid gimmick.
A gimmick. A gimmick...
Huh, jeez, I didn't think of that.
I ain't got no gimmick.
Well, it ain't that hard.
Like, just pick a nursery rhyme
or an animal or something.
Anything to get real wound up about.
It'll give your crimes panache.
Or, you know, can you make up puzzles
- or wacky scavenger hunts? - That's always a plus.
- No. I ain't--I ain't got none of that stuff.
I can't even really think straight.
I thought I could just do crimes.
Ugh, what's a good gimmick?
- Uh, what that-- uh, you know...
- I can't do this by myself. I need another sign.
Somebody get my a talking banana.
- Yeah, yeah, sure. We'll get you a whole bunch.
- Just don't bite any more pieces out of the joint, okay?
We're begging you.
But signs and omens
can present themselves
in many mysterious ways.
And frequently, no tropical fruit is required.
- You don't get it. I ain't got no time to waste.
I need my pudding's attention pronto, or else...
The Harlequin...
- Huh? What's that? Who said that?
- I didn't say nothing. - Somebody--
somebody say my name? You say my name, tough guy?
- We still don't know your name, lady.
- Shush, shush, shush, shush, shush, shush, shush!
- The Harlequin... - There it is again.
Hey, turn up the radio, Johnny.
His name's Manuel.
- Turn up the ever-loving radio, Johnny.
- The Harlequin... - That's it.
- The Harlequin. Enigmatic. Absurd.
- Irrepressible. - Hey, that's me.
- Prepare yourself, Gotham City.
"The Harlequin" is finally here
at the Gotham Museum of Fine Arts.
Come see the world-renowned masterpiece "The Harlequin,"
now the most expensive painting
ever to be sold at auction to a private collector.
On view for a limited public engagement.
"The Harlequin," the most exquisite
of the Crimson Clown series
that scandalized the art world a century ago.
Get it on a tote bag.
You gotta get it on a tote bag.
And, hey, even if you hate art,
it's a pretty big kick seeing a goofy doodle
that's worth a cool billion.
"The Harlequin" at Gotham Museum of Fine--
- That's it! - Harlequin.
Clown...Harley Quinn...
Harley...Harlequin...
Quinzel...The Crimson Clown.
Harley...
That's it.
I see it.
It's been deep inside the whole time.
It's me, but with bells on.
And just like that,
the broken pieces of Harleen Quinzel
have detailed blueprints for their reassembly
into something new.
Uh, lady?
Call me Harley.
And get your shoes on, kids.
We're going to the museum.
I suddenly got a billion reasons
to want to get a little culture in my life.
But first,
peel all that red felt off of that pool table I trashed,
and find me a needle and thread.
I think I just had socko idea for my new spring look.
- And so we bid adieu to Harleen Quinzel,
who exits stage left
but will return for a deranged debut
in a brand-new role later on in this delirious pageant
known as life and death in Gotham City.
To be continued.
"Batman the Audio Adventures,"
written and directed by Dennis McNicholas.
Batman created by Bob Kane with Bill Finger.
Based on characters from DC.
With performances by Jeffrey Wright,
Aristotle Athari, Ike Barinholtz,
Rosario Dawson, Steve Higgins,
Toby Huss, Gillian Jacobs,
John Leguizamo, Dennis McNicholas.
Tim Meadows, Seth Meyers,
Bobby Moynihan, Chris Parnell,
Katie Rich, Ben Rogers,
Paul Scheer, Pete Schultz,
Brooke Shields, Brent Spiner,
Kenan Thompson, Alan Tudyk,
Bradley Whitford, Melissa Villaseñor,
Eli Brueggemann, Doug Bossi,
Ronjini Brown, Chris Gibney,
Julie Larson, Erica Phillips,
Rosie Phillips, Tony Phillips,
Zoey Phillips, Deirdre Quinn,
Robbie Wyckoff.
Executive producers, John Berg, Angela Petrella.
Produced by Dennis McNicholas.
Executives in charge of production,
Shaleen Desae, Peter Girardi.
Producer, Tyler Dorson.
Production services by Cast Media.
Producer, Colin Thompson.
Coordinating producer, DJ Lubel.
Music by Doug Bossi.
Sound recording, design, and mixing
by Big Yellow Duck.
Sound design, mixing, dialogue editing,
and rerecording mixing by Chris Gibney.
Dialogue editing and additional post-production
by Julie Larson.
Original songs by Doug Bossi and Tony Phillips.
The characters and events depicted
in this podcast are fiction.
Any similarity to any actual person
living or dead or to any actual events,
firms, places, and institutions or other entities
is coincidental and unintentional.
This podcast to protected under the laws
of the United States and other countries,
and its unauthorized duplication,
distribution, or exhibition
my result in civil liability and criminal prosecution.
Country of first publication, United States of America.
"Batman the Audio Adventures," copyright 2022
Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.
Batman and all related characters and elements
are trademark and copyright DC.
All rights reserved.