I’d just like to see the Coal Tar Soap look after this kid.
Just picture a giant bar of soap running after him on that scooter, shouting “Billy, watch out for that tree root! Billy, don’t run over Mrs. McGillycuddy’s ornamental garden! And who said you could ride into town and buy candy, it wasn’t me or your ma!”
Or perhaps the giant soap is hurrying up to Billy and his gang, as they are about to smoke homemade cigars. You think it’s embarrassing to have a parent coming after you? Imagine how you’d feel if your new babysitter was a big cake of Wright’s Coal Tar Soap. Billy’s going to be in therapy in 25 years, talking about the giant soap. They’ll have to write some new self-help books about the Coal Tar kids.
Billy’s going to lose all his street cred. Not that he ever had much from the look of him. His friends are all laughing hysterically at the enormous Coal Tar Soap, in a frilly apron, running after Billy, screaming and scolding.
That’s the point where the giant soap always threatened to wash their mouths out with – um, soap.