Soapy’s life is like a circus since a rogue paint truck ruined everything. His oversized shoes
get stuck in sewer grates, he hallucinates, just a hard life. Soapy just sighs, tightens his belt, and
says,“Another Tuesday!” (cause every Tuesday he gets paid, so he thinks every day is
Tuesday till he sees his empty wallet and realizes, its not Tuesday). So he bumbles along, trips, and,
miraculously, lands on his feet – a testimony (or sheer stubbornness) of a clown
who’s seen it all, and somehow, still finds laughter in the utter absurdity of it all.
