The Sgt Major of a scottish regiment based in Edinburgh marches into a chemist's shop and says to the bod behind the counter: "How much do you charge to repair a condom?"

The chemist doesn't blink an eyelid: "Tuppence."

The Sgt Major notes this down, then says: "And how much for a new one?"

"Sixpence."

The Sgt Major notes this down too, underlines it, stares at it for a moment, then walks out of the shop.

Two days later, he's back again, goes up to the counter, reaches into his sporran and pulls out a condom. "I've discussed it with the boys in the regiment, and they've decided to get it patched."



Richard