At the Weapons Monthly Desk

Fred sat at the desk, trying to make sense of what just happened. While he was doing this, a well-dressed young man with blue eyes and a shaved head walked up to the desk. He looked Fred in the eye and said, "Excuse me, I would like to place a personal ad."

Fred said,

1. "This is not the ad desk. Go down the hall."
2. "Fine. It is a Hespaniard copper bit for every 10 words. How does your ad read?"

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