- You've reached Crutches Lupinsky,
which means you ain't got another bookie
who will still take your calls, you degenerate.
Hey, it's your paycheck, pally.
But don't forget to take your kiddies to the circus
every once in a while, huh?
Don't put that on my conscience.
I'm still taking action on the Kid Lazarus fight
at four-to-three for the Kid.
Barnstormers game is of the board
on account of Hobgood's injury and Munson's,
uh, incarceration?
Whatever you wanna call going to Arkham Asylum
semi-voluntarily. I don't know.
Gentlemen, place your bets.
- Hey, Crutches, gimme a nickel on Gaslamps
to sweep the double-header. I smell a pennant, baby.
Go Gaslamps!
- Crutches!
I got two bills says Cast Iron Callahan
doesn't get through five today.
The man was a bum even before his wife got kidnapped
and I ain't got the patience for it.
- Hey, what's the money line
in Central City? Yeah? Okay.
Hey, Crutches, put three bills on the Demons for me.
And hey, listen, guy I know knows a guy who said
word on the street says Catwoman is in some
really hot water--like $9 million worth of hot water.
Heh, do cats like water? I forget.
So listen, you taking any action here?
I got a dime that says the Blind Mice Gang are gonna
be the ones to bag the Cat.
- Crutches, my man!
I'll take the streak before the 5th inning--two Gs.
And hey, I hear you're taking Catwoman action.
Boy, it's a crowded field.
I like the Sycamore Street Syndicate.
They really want it, but give me 500 on the Soup Bone Gang.
It's a long shot, so to sweeten the deal,
I'll take two-to-one odds.
- Hey, Crutches,
your hear about this Catwoman thing?
I tell you what. Put my whole bankroll
on Boxer Chow and the Dockyard Dogs.
They got a honey of a score to settle with Miss Whiskers.
- Crutches, I got five Gs
says the kitty on Catwoman
is going to Boxer Chow and the Dockyard Dogs.
- Crutches, we're talking
Catwoman down here, and I'm hearing nothing
but Dockyard Dogs.
- Crutches, what do you got for Dockyard Dogs?
- Dockyard Dogs lookin' like
an easy favorite, Crutches. But that ain't all.
A lot of hubbub down at Boxer Chow's joint since early.
My money is smart money,
and smart money says the Cat gets fixed tonight.
Gotham, a cozy den for wolves that never sleep.
Join us now for another tale of life and death
in Gotham City--March 5th.
With impeccably inconvenient timing, Batman has learned
he must intervene quickly to prevent Two-Face
from undergoing treatment with a dangerous, failed
pharmaceutical experiment called JoyCure.
What he does not yet know is that the administrator
of this dubious care is none other than
the depraved drug lord known as the Scarecrow.
While Batman redirects his attention to the rescue
of his tragic former friend,
the animals of the city prowl unsupervised streets.
of urban nowhere, in the depths
of Gotham's benighted Park Row,
the frantic footfalls of a furious pursuit.
- Ah!
Thundering down
a squalid alley, a snarling riot
of swinging jowls and flinging spittle,
a half dozen prize-winning bull mastiffs
relentlessly run down a notorious neighborhood stray.
Good doggies.
Come on.
I just gave to the humane society.
You're making me feel like
an all-day sucker.
All together, it's 700 pounds
of imminent canine aggression.
But the four-legged dogs closing in
so quickly behind her are only a portion
of Catwoman's distress this evening.
There's also the two-legged variety--
a pair of gang boss Boxer Chow's Dockyard Dogs,
swinging sawed-off pool cues and lustily barking orders
- to their frenzied pets. - Go get the cat, Ripper.
Where is the Cat, Fang?
- We got you now, Catwoman.
- I bet you'll wish you never crossed Boxer Chow.
of a chewing gum advertisement,
- Catwoman stumbles.
She's a goner.
Indeed. One way or another,
the chase ends now.
With a pack of hounds
closing the distance,
Catwoman heaves up
a manhole cover.
- Nice try.
You think them dogs won't follow you into the sewers?
- Into the sewers? Yeah, not in these stockings.
I just need something heavy enough
to go through the display case of Fenton's Butcher Shop.
Huh?
And the overstuffed
butcher shop display case
disgorges meats of every description.
A carnal cascade of cutlets, chops, and filets
amass in a well-marbled mound on the sidewalk below.
- Uh-oh.
The Dockyard Dogs watch with growing dread
as their leverage over the situation
gorges blissfully on the sudden smorgasbord.
- Now then, as for you little pups,
I don't wanna be the kind of person
who has a hard day at work and then comes home
and kicks the dogs.
So take what's coming to you like bad doggies,
and I promise not to use my boots.
- Oh, crap. - Well put.
- Run for it, Bingo! - You said it, Pongo.
Ugh, no.
I'm just not doing any more running.
You ask too much.
Catwoman's rawhide lashes forth
and catches one of the fleeing Dogs by the ankle.
- Please, Catwoman, it's a whopper of a payday on ya.
Who wouldn't be tempted?
- Just business, right? - Just business.
So how's about you go easy on me?
- Way ahead of you. I plan to leave you
just barely capable of limping home
to tell your boss what happened.
That price on my head?
Boxer Chow can't afford it.
- Hey, hey!
A mercifully short thrashing later,
the chastened cur is running home
with his tail between his legs.
- Tell that lousy mutt to keep his distance.
I'm sick of scratching his fleas.
But from the look of the car barreling
down the street at her,
- Catwoman's night is not over. - Come on.
Still winded from the long chase,
she has little time to react before the brown sedan
screeches suddenly to a halt.
- Get in. - Vicki Vale, "Gotham Gazette"?
What are you doing this far downtown, Ms. Uptown?
- Looking for you and helping to find you
before Boxer Chow did.
Better late than never. So get in.
- I didn't call a cab. - Look around, Catwoman.
The Dogs chased you deep into
Seventh Street Savages territory.
You really feel like walking?
Lord Harpoon will appreciate your availability.
- I don't love being seen in this car.
- You better hope you're not seen.
I better hope you're not seen.
I don't think my press card will spare me
from the kind of trouble you're in, Catwoman.
- Trouble? What trouble?
- Boxer Chow, Lord Harpoon, Rat King Cole,
Maximillian Monkeyshines--
oh, and the entire Thorn Cartel.
I know I'm leaving a lot out,
but those are at the top of the leaderboard
according to the odds being run by Crutches Lupinsky.
- Crutches is taking bets on my murder?
That is a pretty good racket.
Go Crutches. What's the vig?
- Catwoman, you're in serious trouble.
Your business model was always unsustainable,
chiseling away at the underworld bit by bit.
Well, this is the cave-in. - Okay.
- Now, every last chump you rolled is united
in a competitive effort to see you suffer.
- Well, when you put it that way, sure.
- But you're a wordsmith. - So what are you gonna do?
The way I see it, you have one option,
and that's to leave town, lay low.
Now, I've got a girlfriend with one of those gorgeous,
ultra-modern Metropolis penthouses.
Metropolis?
- With a roof garden and the atomic appliances
and a private air taxi dock.
- You could stay until-- - Never.
Could you imagine me in Metropolis?
That place is lousy with--
- what do you call it? - Decency?
- That or something that smells like it.
No, I'm on a short leash, I'm afraid.
And it doesn't go beyond the Gotham City limits.
Cats shouldn't be on leashes.
So what can you do? Where can you hide?
- Oh, I'm not going to hide. I'll manage.
And if I can't, I'll get protection.
- From who? You got one friend,
and I can't protect my morning newspaper from being swiped--
- From the Santa Priscans.
No. No way.
The Santa Priscan drug cartels--
are you insane?
Crime isn't just a living in Santa Prisca, Catwoman.
It's a religion.
It's the way to salvation for a cult of fanatics.
Their foot soldiers are chemically enhanced monsters.
The only sole mercy we have in this hell hole
is the fact that the Santa Priscans
have never set up shop in Gotham City.
- Oh, drive. You made your point.
The very last thing this town needs
is more sharks in the tank.
So when every crook in town is after you,
I guess there's just one person to turn to.
- Thank goodness-- you're calling Batman.
- Ha. He'd love that.
No. When every crook is after you,
you throw yourself on the mercy of the king crook,
the crook the other crooks are afraid of.
In Gotham City, like it or not, that's the Penguin.
Oswald Cobblepot seems an unlikely candidate
for humane feline rescue.
What will be his price?
The answer in a future tale of life and death
in Gotham City.
- Wayne Foundation hosting
the International Children's G--
- Haly's Circus.
Step right up for the grand reopen--
Fleishacker belts one deep,
but blowing foul, so--
Come to passion.
Come to Paradise.
Come to the beautiful island of Santa Prisca.
From the pristine white sands of Drowning Dog Beach
to the sparkling shores of Severed Thumb Bay
to the precipitous cliffs of Backstabber Falls,
Santa Prisca is calling to--
that collects what winding threads are spun from panic.
Join us now for another tale of life and death
in Gotham City.
This landscape is pitted and scarred
from years of open warfare.
As far as the eye can see,
the scorched destruction of a bitter stalemate.
This is the inside of a man's mind,
a dwelling built for a single occupant
that nevertheless houses two.
But tonight, for once,
these unbearably tight confines
don't echo with the clashes of conflict.
Tonight, after a generous dose
of a dubious decoction known as JoyCure,
an altogether new sound is heard
in the shockingly peaceful precincts
of the mind of the man known as Two-Face.
Hey. Hey, pretty boy.
Oh, what?
Is--is something wrong?
- No, that--
that screwy sound.
- Do you-- - Yes.
Clear as ringing crystal.
Oh, good.
Was worried we lost track of the whole bag of marbles.
- No, that-- that's not what's happening.
Doctor Crane? Are you still there?
Yes. I'm right here, Harvey.
You can leave your blindfold on until I tell you
to you remove it, please.
Something's happening.
What--what is that sound we're hearing?
Never heard it before.
Of course you haven't.
That's harmony, Two-Face.
You've never known a moment of it
in your entire tortured existence until now.
- Harm... - Ony?
- It's when two voices become one.
- Where is it?
It's all of you, Harvey.
It's--it's--
I don't know how ya say it.
- It's... - Empyrean.
Yeah, exactly.
Thanks, college boy.
- Didn't I tell you it would be?
The JoyCure has brought peace at last
to your long inner conflict.
You simply must trust me.
Remember, we talked about trust
when you agreed to put that blindfold on for me?
You--you said to cooperate.
We cooperated.
Yes, Harvey.
Cooperation, that's exactly
what today's lesson is all about.
And you have cooperated with everything I have asked
of you, ever since I gave you your first dose of JoyCure.
But cooperating with me is easy.
I want you to cooperate with you.
We don't follow you, doc.
- We have oh so many ways we wage war
within ourselves every day.
You're just an unusually extreme case.
It's the influence of fear.
When what we know is false coincides with
what we fear is true,
that's a conflict and there are casualties.
Fear? Sure. That figures.
For example, you told me
that you have a horror of high places.
- Is that right? - Heights?
We hate 'em.
Severe ac--uh,
acrophobia, yes, yes.
Acrophobia.
An irrational fear of heights, they say.
Don't they?
Well, Harvey,
I am going to take off your blindfold now,
and then I'd like you to tell me
how irrational you believe your fear of high places to be.
the mismatched eyes of Two-Face suddenly behold
the vertiginous view from a narrow ledge
outside the window of a towering skyscraper.
Two-Face teeters unsteadily,
blinking in disbelief.
- Yes, Harvey.
Quite a high place you find yourself in, isn't it?
Tell me, how do you feel?
- We--we feel--
we--wha...
Wonderful.
- Whoo, would you get a load of that view?
Hey, doc.
Come on out here and lamp this scene.
- Thank you. I'll--I'll stay here inside,
where it's safe.
You realize you are one step
and 100 feet from the pavement below?
- Yep.
Your numbers check out, doc.
- And your crippling fear of heights?
I don't understand it.
We--we've always hated high places,
but today...
Top of the world, Ma!
- Bet you can see the courthouse from here
if we stand on our tippy-toes.
Oh, do be careful, Harvey.
Yep.
There she is. Magnificent.
Doctor, there's no fear.
Is your drug doing this?
- Fear is a furnace which must be fed.
What I have done is empty your mental coal tinder.
In fact, you might even dance a jig
on that narrow ledge if I asked you to.
- Are you asking us to dance, doctor?
- What luck! We been takin' lessons.
The opening steps of a tango rain down
upon the narrow ledge at a delirious tempo.
How's this for hoofin'?
Oh, my!
Now you really must be careful.
You ain't seen nothin' yet.
Bravo! Bravissimo.
Not a hint of terror in your eyes.
You see, Two-Face,
your two sides united are a dauntless bulwark
to petty fears.
Why, you would walk to the end of that flagpole
if I asked you to, I bet.
- The flagpole?
extends out into space like the shaft
of a colossal wayward arrow
fired into the building's upper stories.
- Yes, I want you to show me
you can walk it like a tightrope, like a plank.
Looks pretty narrow.
It's plenty wide enough.
Why, it's just a matter of balance.
I'm sure Two-Face knows a thing or two
about the need for balance.
Walk to the very end.
- Sure, doc.
Sounds good to us.
How's this, doc?
Ta-da.
- Out to the very end of the pole!
Congratulations, Harvey.
Whoo!
No--nothing to i--it, doc.
Like you said, it's all about balance.
- Now this next part is very dangerous.
When you're ready,
turn around and come back.
- What do you mean when we're ready?
- Simply discuss it amongst yourselves.
When you mutually decide you want to come in,
turn either to your left, or alternately,
turn to your right and come back.
Hold up! Hold up!
Discuss it.
Either left or right.
Just tell us which one.
I'm not going to, Harvey.
You're gonna have to decide.
Okay. You decide.
Oh, not me. You pick.
- No, no. I'm insisting you choose.
I pass.
Pass. You do it.
Come on, Harvey.
Turn right or turn left.
Then once you've turned, do you lead with
your left foot or your right?
The choice is yours.
- Do you walk heel to toe or toe to heel, Harvey?
So many choices to make.
Ah, but you're without your coin.
I'd forgotten.
- Doctor, what?
Please help me!
- I'm so--so-- - Afraid!
Yes! And isn't it fascinating?
The JoyCure is a miracle at curing everyday phobias,
like your fear of heights, but it reacts very badly
to the kind of serious issues you have, Harvey.
Your real fear isn't high places.
The fear you're feeling right now?
That's the fear that defines you, Harvey--
the fear of having to make a decision,
any decision, for yourself.
No coin. No counsel.
Just the two of you.
Aah! No, please!
Please help me, doctor!
Tell me what to do.
- I'll do whatever you say. - Careful, careful!
You're slipping!
Did you know a baby's first instinct
is a fear of falling?
I would love to have been involved
in conducting those experiments.
- I'll kill you.
You said "I!"
That's a breakthrough!
One of you is taking charge.
I couldn't tell who spoke though.
- Would you mind? - Please, please.
I--I-- oh, I can't.
- Hold on. - Come on now.
You simply need to agree upon a strategy
before it's too late.
- Doctor Crane?
I know you said you didn't want to be disturbed, but--
Not now, Miss Gold!
- Um, well, I'm just so sorry to, um--
- oh, I know I'm interrupting. - Yes, what is it, Miss Gold?
I'm in a session with a patient.
- Aah! - I know, doctor, but, um,
you have an important call. It's, um--
Bruce Wayne is on the phone.
Bruce Wayne?
What in the vault of heaven
do I have to say to Bruce Wayne?
I don't know Bruce Wayne.
- Tell him I'm busy. - But doctor, I really think
you're gonna wanna take this call.
Mr. Wayne says he needs your help urgently.
- Oh, and what, pray, is the urgent affliction?
Doesn't he realize you don't seek psychiatric care
for tennis elbow?
- Sir, he, um--what he said,
um--Dr. Crane, um--
Bruce Wayne thinks he's Batman.
Dr. Crane's eyes widen to their limit.
- Doctor-- - Hold...
all my other calls today, Miss Gold.
In actuality, this time.
Tell Mr. Wayne I will meet with him at the clinic
in one hour.
- And, uh, Harvey? - Yeah?
- Good work today.
- Let's get you back home to Penguin.
- I think we can pick this up
again at our next appointment.
I'd just like to say,
you are making excellent progress.
And so Harvey Dent is spared the effects
of gravity, but the pull of something invisible
and inexorable waxes on.
These are the physics of life and death in Gotham City.
- This Thursday night, live from Maxie Zeus'
fabulous Gotham City Olympus,
see divine perfection descend from the pantheon
to compete in the 53rd annual Miss Gotham City Pageant.
- See 28 of the most beautiful daughters of Mother Gotham
compete for the crown
in the elegant evening wear competition.
The swimsuit competition.
All right, settle down, ya animals.
And the, uh, many wonderful surprises
of the talent competition.
- Okay, and what exactly have you accomplished
in your life, ya wise guys?
That's the 53rd annual Miss Gotham Pageant,
live from the Gotham City Olympus.
Gotham, a rotting wreck of ambition
foundered on a reef of greed.
Join us once again for a tale of life and death
in Gotham City.
The office of Doctor Jonathan Crane, psychiatrist.
The couch in this room has been host to
a dazzling array of peculiar minds.
Bruce Wayne's is merely the latest.
Doctor, I need your help.
- It would seem you certainly do, Mr. Wayne,
and urgently, from the look of it.
Your intake papers are quite a read.
Let's see. Under occupation you wrote,
"I am vengeance."
And under marital status you wrote,
"I am the night."
- Yes, well--
- Under reason for visit you've written,
"So that evildoers everywhere will taste cold justice."
Yes, yes, indeed.
Help is exactly what you need
and badly, Mr. Wayne.
- You need help concocting a lie. - I'm sorry?
- You don't think you're Batman.
You're pretending to think you are Batman,
and the ruse is painfully transparent.
This is just the kind of childish fantasy
I'd expect from someone with your background--
idle and overeducated.
Listen to this... You wrote,
"Criminals are a superstitious and cowardly lot."
That simply can't be
how the real Batman talks,
and you know that, don't you?
You've met him, haven't you?
More than once, as I recall.
I bet he impressed you, didn't he?
- Doctor, this isn't-- - Ah.
Now a diagnosis comes into view, Mr. Wayne.
You're obsessed with this daring mystery man,
aren't you?
You met him a few times
and you probably think you're friends.
- Doctor-- - A word of advice, Mr. Wayne,
never match wits with someone trained in deduction.
You reveal so much more than you think you do.
- Is that so? - You're clearly in no need
of medical attention.
As for what provoked you
to concoct this duplicitous scheme,
it frankly does not arouse my professional interest,
but I'll make a referral.
Now get out.
You've wasted enough of my time.
Okay, you got me.
You're impossible to get ahold of,
so I adopted an aggressive acquisition strategy.
- Aha! There's the tedious boardroom jargon
that's your native tongue.
- Doctor, I'll get right to the point.
I know you're treating Harvey Dent
at the behest of Oswald Cobblepot.
Ah, Harvey Dent.
- Harvey is my friend, and if you believe
he has a chance at rehabilitation,
I want it to be in a loving and supportive environment.
Oswald Cobblepot does not provide that.
I want you to transfer care over to me.
- I won't ask you how you know these things.
Information is a commodity in this city
and all kinds of treasures are within your means,
one would imagine, but really, you're not an utter naif.
You must know,
if I did, for some unfathomable reason,
give you Mr. Dent,
Penguin would crush you into pâté grand-mère.
- He'll try, but Harvey can make my custodianship
- of him legal. - Ah, yes.
The celebrated legal skills of your friend,
the erstwhile district attorney, Harvey Dent,
another powerful crimefighting figure you admire.
And don't I recall,
you're also on a first-name basis
with Commissioner Gordon?
Do we need to talk about a law enforcement fixation?
- We're talking about Harvey, doctor.
Oh, don't get me wrong.
You've irritated me with your crude deception,
but you would be a fascinating case to study.
The real source of your obsession is obvious,
isn't it?
Look around my office.
Do you like my choice of décor?
What do you see?
- You collect old movie posters.
Yes.
I am a collector.
But to be more precise,
I collect old Argus Studios horror movie posters.
I confess I am an unabashed fan of the creature features.
You see, when I was a very little boy,
I was taken to the movie matinée,
a classic chiller.
Any concern that I might be too tender an age
for such fare was utterly unfounded.
I wasn't scared.
I was fascinated,
not by the film,
but by the audience.
I simply couldn't believe it.
This crowd of people was paying money
to suffer fear.
I became a habitue of the late, late show.
My absolute favorite, of course,
the maestro, the great Basil Karlo,
man of a thousand faces-- all of them hideous.
Now that was a man who made you beg him
to frighten you,
and I find that paradox intoxicating.
Now, you went to the movies when you were a little boy too,
didn't you, Bruce?
That was a pretty memorable night, wasn't it?
Or perhaps you've suppressed the memories.
What do the movies make you think of, Bruce?
Is that a subject you'd care to talk about?
- Doctor Crane-- - A mother, a father,
and their loving son out to see a movie.
Was that your last happy memory, Bruce?
- Doctor Crane, I'm here to make you an offer.
You have nothing I want.
- I have grant money beyond any you--
Grant money?
Is that the only tool in your kit?
- Would you like tenure? Name the university, I have--
Oh, please stop.
This is ritual humiliation.
- I have a copy of Basil Karlo's last film.
What? What did you say?
- I said I have a copy of "The Second Skin."
- There are no copies of "The Second Skin."
They were all destroyed decades ago.
- Oh, so you know it. You are a fan.
A "fan"?
That film is a legendary lost masterwork,
the Holy Grail.
- I just know it's the film where Basil Karlo committed
his real life crimes.
I hope mine is the only one.
It's said to be dangerous to the suggestible.
How do you have this?
- All kinds of treasures are within my means,
one would imagine.
- It--but--
"The Second Skin" isn't just some cinema obscurity.
It--it wasn't just avant-garde, subliminal editing.
It was conceived to be a flawless simulation
of violent madness.
It is a masterpiece.
- They say your masterpiece is an instructional film
on how to be a psychopath.
My copy was recently found in an unrelated purchase
of vintage film stock,
and I've been advised to have it destroyed.
- But if it's as unique
as you say it is, I thought there might be
some value in clinical analysis.
You could lead that project.
Just give me Harvey.
- Even if I did, you won't recognize him.
Whatever he was before,
he is now a violent criminal to his core.
Even the element of his persona which is most recognizable
to you as your former friend has given his life entirely
- to a pursuit of infamy. - Let me worry about that.
- And this notional kidnapping--
how do you expect to steal something precious
from the Penguin?
I can assist you from the inside,
but Penguin has Two-Face under constant armed guard.
The cream of his casino security.
- You just do your part from the inside
as you say, and as for the rest,
well, that's the easy part.
I'll just call in a favor from a friend.
- And what friend of yours is up to the task?
Who else, doctor?
My good friend, the Batman.
Rescue is at hand for Two-Face.
But can there be any liberty from the prison of his mind?
And what of Doctor Crane?
His session with Bruce Wayne concluded,
what dread price will he claim as his hourly rate?
The reek of fear--
it hangs heavy over life and death
in Gotham City.
To be continued.
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,
Ranjani Brow, 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 fictional.
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
may 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.