All right, we lay low until the heat's off. Then we move the rocks.
- Clear? - Crystal.
Speaking of heat...
Oh, man. Is that the Bat?
Boys, I'm a whole different breed of animal.
And one butt-ugly hood ornament.
Looks like you had a busy night.
That's good.
Because you're all working for me now.
Gentlemen, show the walking freak show who's boss around here.
You city boys need to learn yourself some manners.
- Who are you? - Name's Croc.
Killer Croc. But you can call me boss.
Gotham has a sudden burst of nine seemingly unrelated heists.
With stolen goods ranging from explosives to Jet Skis.
There has to be a link between these crimes.
Apologies, Master Bruce. Just a bit of spring-cleaning.
Alfred, where are you taking the evidence?
These cases are closed.
They are now history. In every sense of the word.
It would be criminal to not preserve these items for posterity.
So I've chosen to archive them. A private museum, if you will.
After all, the Batman may someday enjoy a more favorable place in society's view.
Yeah. I won't hold my breath.
Water.
Actually, I'd prefer a spot of iced tea, if you're headed to the kitchen.
No, the link between the robberies. Water.
A half dozen within spitting distance of a canal and three on Gotham Bay.
Boss wants this swag loaded. Pronto!
The Batman.
I'd like to have a word with this boss you fellas mentioned.
My daddy used to say, “You want something done right...
...best to do it yourself.“
You look to be this Batman legend I keep hearing about.
Well, folks are gonna start hearing about how Killer Croc stopped you good.
Boss Croc definitely does not have both oars in the water.
Yeah, he calls this slime pit headquarters.
Well, maybe you two should mention that to Croc.
Me, I like my teeth just where they are.
Yeah, well, first chance I get, It's “After a while, crocodile.“
Sure do hate to see my boys so unhappy.
Oh, not me, boss. I'm happy as a clam.
Good. Because this time tomorrow...
...the tops of skyscrapers will be our lily pads...
...and downtown Gotham will be our oyster.
Master Bruce, your Batsuit may be drip-dry, you, however, are not.
Next time, I'll be sure to keep Croc on my turf.
Dry land.
This was the scene moments ago...
...as Gotham's financial district was hit by the largest flood in the city's history.
What?
Emergency crews are now arriving to assist with the evacuation of local residents.
The cause of the ﬂood is still unknown.
Three bank alarms in Gotham's waterlogged financial district?
Your amphibious acquaintance?
Water, water, everywhere.
How about a little game of Chicken. Cajun style.
Mind your cowl, now.
Croc's story, spill it.
He's ex-military, I think. Mercenary type.
Some think he's a genetic experiment, a crossbreed soldier or something.
Others think he messed with the wrong kind of voodoo in the bayou.
Me, I'm thinking circus freak.
Facts, not folktales.
What's to tell? Croc's new in town, he's got big plans.
Bigger than robbing banks?
Croc said today's ﬂood was just a dry run.
If I wanted to do some big-city Croc hunting, where would I go?
Oh, no way.
Boss Croc's cold-blooded, man. I talk, I wind up fish food.
You don't talk, we could all wind up fish food.
Schematics of Gotham's canals.
You sure got a lot of bloodhound in you...
...for a bat.
What do you think?
A dry little spot to catch my breath between heists.
Right beside the overﬂow pumps for Gotham's canal system.
They were designed to drain the canals into the bay in case of flooding.
But I did some thinking.
If you reverse the pumps...
They draw water in from the bay, filling the canals...
...until they submerge any part of Gotham situated below sea level.
Just about all of downtown, where the good shopping is.
Tens of thousands of lives could be lost.
And I'll shed a crocodile teal for each and every one.
And speaking of...
...my pets haven't had a decent bite since we arrived.
Now, if you'll pardon me, bat snack...
...I've got some more pumps to reverse.
Nothing like good old elbow grease.
You are peskier than a fly in a...
Catch of the day.
You gotta put your back into it, boy.
You best give it up, Bat. By the time they figure out what caused the flood...
...downtown Gotham will be my personal swamp.
Boy, you are beginning to stick in my craw.
A dry little spot to catch my breath between heists.
Your amphibious acquaintance?
Crocs may like water, but they're no fish.
So either of you up for giving lizard-lips a little mouth-to-mouth?
Didn't think so.
What are you looking at?
This ain't over, aqua-bat.
Gotham is gonna be my backyard bayou.
I won't hold my breath.
You missed a spot.
And I just mopped that ﬂoor.
- What did you bring me? - Evidence.
I shall archive this right away, sir.