Catwoman: We need to talk. You see, you and I have something in common.
The Penguin: Sounds familiar. Appetite for destruction? Contempt for the czars of fashion? Wait, don’t tell me… naked sexual charisma.
Catwoman: Batman. The thorn in both our sides. The fly in our ointment.
The Penguin: Ointment! Scented or unscented?

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The Penguin: Ah, the direct approach. I admire that from a man with a mask.

The Penguin: Touring the riot scene. Gravely assessing the devastation. Upstanding mayor stuff.

Catwoman: Honey, I’m home. Oh, I forgot. I’m not married.

The Penguin: You’re just jealous because I’m a genuine freak and you have to wear a mask.

The Penguin: The heat is getting to me, I’ll kill you momentarily.