Oh. We'll gas them out of the cave and get them when they come out.

There's only one more chance.

- Whiteface? Joker. - More than possible, Robin.

- No, something more recent. - Nothing whatever, Batman.

I'm ruined, bankrupt, wiped out.

Look, we've been out-tricked.

You get the document...

- Get the gas grenades. - Roger.

Frankly, I can think of nothing more stimulating than economics and commerce...

I know how it goes, poopsie, say no more. Have a hundred.

Gosh, Batman, if we could just puzzle out how funny money is handed out by a bank.

The way he counts out those bills. Holy precision.

You idiot, you're only getting in the way.

I have a plan to get that proof.

What's more, the woman had just received that bill from the Gotham City National Bank.

Come on, Dick, this may lead us to a more practical lesson in loss and gain.

- Josie, ink the rollers, I'll get the paper. Quick. - Yes.

- Diabolical, I'm being driven out of my senses. - Precisely the fiend's intention, commissioner.

Situation under control, no need for you to leave the Batcave. Over and out.

Excusing the intrusion, sir, but might I point out an oddity in this automaton's attire?