Soap Opera
 Philo Fields was in a sweat. He had left his Ivory Soap vats untended and stayed far too late on his lunch hour.
Now the soap had been stirring for so long that huge amounts of air had been whipped into it, and it was nearly twice its normal volume. Yet, with luck, no harm had been done.
Philo poured the batch into individual soap bar molds. Not surprisingly, he was getting almost double the number of bars that he usually got – something sure to please management.
But when he tested one of the hardened bars, Philo again panicked. All that whipped-in air had made the bars SO light, they floated on top of the water. “Nobody will even believe this stuff is soap” he groaned. “It’s never going to sell, they’ll trace the problem back to me, and I can’t afford to be out of work right now. And my wife,” he realized, “is going to KILL me!”
“I'm doomed,” thought Philo.
Desperate for a way to clean up his mess, Philo turned to an old school chum – a fellow who had converted his natural gift for loquaciousness into a highly successful advertising career.
His friend considered the problem and observed; “Isn’t plain air pure? Let’s link the floating soap – so full of air – with purity.”
For Philo, his friend, and the Proctor family, those thoughts turned out to be 99 and 44/100% pure gold.
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