Two nuns stand smoking outdoors their convent.
There’s a crack of thunder, the clouds roll in, and it begins to rain.
The youthful of the nuns, Sister Agnes, pulls out a c0nd0m, bites the tip off, and rolls it over her cigarette.
The older nun, Sister Rosemary, appears on, dumbfounded.
“What within the Lord’s good title is that you just’ve put in your cigarette, Sister Agnes?” She says.
“Why,” says Sister Agnes, “it’s a c0nd0m.” She holds her cigarette up within the rain. “It stops your cigarette getting moist.”
“Properly, that’s marvellous!” Sister Rosemary gasps. “What a effective thought.”
The following day, Sister Rosemary — suitably impressed — decides to stroll right down to the pharmacy within the village.
“Good morning!” She smiles to the Saturday boy behind the until. “I’d like some c0nd0ms please.”
“Oh!” the boy exclaims, in search of one thing to say, and visibly crimson. “Properly… um… how… what number of would you l-like?”
“Oh, I don’t thoughts,” says Sister Rosemary, smiling, “so long as they match on a Camel…”
