Come on.

We're on official business.

Our plot is back on the track. Our plot is back on the track.

- He's on his way. - Splendid.

We're on our way, Penguin.

On a simple case like this, Bruce?

Please put this through on the hotline Bat-phone.

Well, they're all out on perfectly legal parole.

I'll turn on the high-voltage switch, heh-heh-heh...

- Spitting on a couple of sidewalks? - Faugh, that's fiddlesticks.

Reflect on your petty sins, you bush-league bird.

we're required to write them out on individual slips of paper.

This tawdry, penny-ante pokey on a charge of simulated murder?

Is there any way this creature could get his hands on blank check forms?

But, gosh, how would Ballpoint lay his mitts on blank check forms in the state penitentiary?

All the needy people in the world, the hungry children.

The Batmobile.

The swimming pool.

in the kitchens of the Gotham City State Penitentiary.

The fiends, they'll use the chief as a hostage.