Good Things Comes In Pairs (Claudius) -FIN-

[OSRIC YOUNG]

Open mic nights were always fun, even if the places they were held at weren't. Osric liked to be heard, but sometimes, it was nice to be background noise. People sipped at their drinks and chain smoked joints, filling the air with thick bouts of white. They didn't exactly closely listen, chatting amongst themselves in slightly hushed tones, laughing at their own little jokes and moaning when they get too drunk. But they clapped dutifully, which is more than he could ask for. It was rare mistakes were noticed. He made sure that he never wondered how he got from planning to open for a big US tour to this. But in a way, maybe, this was more fun. And yeah, sometimes it was nice to be background noise.

There weren't many people in the bar tonight, but then, it was rarely entirely full. The bulk of costumers weren't young people, probably because the bar didn't play loud pop music and college girls draping themselves over the counters just to tease the eager boys. Most of the men here had never heard Osric sing before, or they didn't know that they had, and that was just as well, because they don't know he was a failure. That's what Carl said when Osric ran into him last week on accident at the supermarket. Stupid fucking Carl with his mediocre bass playing and his daughter he didn't care about, what did he know? Nothing.

He sang his set passionately, dutifully, and between songs would give credit where it was due. He didn't like to sing his own songs at pubs, though. They were his own words; he didn't want those to be background noise. Besides, grown men didn't want to hear what he was labeled as "emo pop punk" (fucking journalists) while they're trying to have a conversation with their mates. No, he kept to covers of slower songs, even though his fingers itched at the slow pace.

He finished playing, and people clapped. They probably didn't realize or particularly care if he was done or not, because whether he was done or not, the music would continue. That's what open mike nights were for, right? He said thank you into the microphone anyway before hopping off stage. The manager came over and said, Thank you, Thanks very much, Would you like a drink before you go? And Osric replied No, Thanks anyway mister, and the guy nodded and invited him back to play some other time. Osric thought he might like that.

The bar was dim - lighting was scarce in the place, and the smoke drifting around lazily certainly didn't help - and Osric glanced around stage, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything. He put his guitar back in its case and clicked the snaps shut, feeling quite accomplished, even if he hadn't accomplished anything. Self satisfaction was not a problem for blind optimism. Despite the darkness of the room, Osric didn't fail to see a man sitting in the pub as he walked out.

A familiar face.

Claudius.

A shit eating grin grew on Osric's face. Oh, this is was brilliant, and he hadn't even planned on seeing Claudius tonight! He knew that Claudius was more interested in avoiding Osric, but perhaps the guy hadn't recognized Osric's voice; he did sound a bit different when he sang. Then again, maybe Claudius came to see him play? The unlikely possibility alone was exhilarating. Claudius was so cool. Saving lives.

"Claudius, man, like, I can't believe I'm seeing you here!" He piped up, the too-wide grin staying on his face. "You heard me play! I mean, did you come here to see me play? I don't think you knew I was here, because like, you would've said hi or something, right? But, I mean, wow! Hey, are you drinking? Oh wow, you're drinking." The stream of words came naturally, all at once, and Osric didn't really wait for Claudius to comment on the numerous questions he had both asked and answered himself.

OOC: www.youtube.com/watch?v=RAhXQHll8uU <-This is the last cover Osric does, if you're interested, except with a microphone and no adorable daughter at the end.

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[CLAUDIUS CHANDLER]

He shouldn't be here - he knew he shouldn't. He shouldn't be anywhere near alcohol if he could help it, let alone in a bar. Yet here he was - at a bar he'd never been to before, no less, in the vain hope that he could have a quick drink in peace and undisturbed. A foolish hope, perhaps, being as well known as he was, but the place was dark. Of course it would have made much more sense to buy a bottle of something from the shops and drink it in the privacy of his own home, but Claudius couldn't deny that as well as the alcohol itself he missed the sort of places in which he drank it.

Hence his being here, at the bar, drinking slowly and surprisngly sombrely from his glass. He wanted to remain as inconspicuous as it is possible for the CEO of such a renowned company as Hamlet Enterprises to be.

"Claudius, man, like, I can't believe I'm seeing you here!"

Clearly he wasn't being inconspicuous enough. Claudius inwardly cringed at the sound of that voice but otherwise made no move to acknowledge the young man presence. He had met Osric Young once before and he was still unsure how he felt about the man. His constant flattery and apparent awe was good for Claudius' ego but the fact his words were near constant was bound to be irritating after awhile - it was irritating just now, actually, considering how loudly he was speaking.

"You heard me play! I mean, did you come here to see me play? I don't think you knew I was here, because like, you would've said hi or something, right? But, I mean, wow! Hey, are you drinking? Oh wow, you're drinking."

Osric had been playing? This was news to Claudius - the open mic night was paled in comparison to his secretive drinking venture - indeed, for hijm the music had simply been background noise. But he wasn't about to point this out and ruin Osric's rose-tinted view of him. He turned to face the younger man as he continued to talk and answer his own questions, somehow managing a small smile. At least Osric's being here would mean he wouldn't be drinking alone.

"What else would I be doing in a bar?" Claudius said, raising his glass to Osric in a joking gesture. "Cheers." And so saying he took another sip from his glass.

[OSRIC YOUNG]

Claudius turned and gave Osric a small smile. Oh, that was nice; Claudius had a nice smile. He was such a lovely man. Osric would write a fantastic book about him.

"What else would I be doing in a bar?" Claudius asked. "Cheers." The man lifted his glass in mock toast before sipping at his drink.

Osric made a face, rocking a little back and forth on the balls of his feet. It wasn't as if he hadn't thought Claudius wouldn't drink, most people did, but he still didn't approve of it. "Well, I mean," he started, answering Claudius' question. "I was just singing, and people are talking and stuff, and eating, and I think that old guy's giving that lady a hand job under the table. Wow, that's really weird, isn't it? I think it's weird."

He nodded definitively before looking back at Claudius. "But, like, you're here for drinking? That's cool. I mean, it's not, because, well. But, well, what are you drinking? Alcohol's really bad for you, you know."

Osric's words were jumping back and forth, mostly because he was a bit nervous telling Claudius what he thought of alcoholic beverages. What if Claudius got mad and hated him for it? No, that'd be terrible! But he simply needed to tell Claudius, because if Claudius didn't know what he thought it's be a bit like lying, and lying was bad, right? Right.

[CLAUDIUS CHANDLER]

"Well, I mean, I was just singing, and people are talking and stuff, and eating, and I think that old guy's giving that lady a hand job under the table. Wow, that's really weird, isn't it? I think it's weird."

Claudius nodded in reply.

"Weird,"

He felt like pointing out to Osric that it had been a rhetorical question but he wan't in a particularly confrontational mood - he was just glad it was only Osric that had spotted him here and not someone else. He was prepared to be lenient.

"But,like, you're here for drinking? That's cool. I mean, it's not, because, well. But, well, what are you drinking? Alcohol's really bad for you, you know."

Claudius' smile fell from his face as Osric continued to speak and he raised an eyebrow in disdain. Osric didn't know the half of it. Not that Claudius was about to tell him the reason for his alcoholism, the fact he was supposedly recovering or any of that. This was only the second time he'd met the man and besides, if this was his attitude to Claudius having one drink, he didn't like to think what Osric's reaction would be to his addiction. Not that he cared. But the man was writing a book about him. A book.

This was ridiculous. He could understand why Hector had a problem with his drinking but Osric...who the hell was he to question what Claudius Chandler, CEO, did?

"Do you have a problem with my drinking, Osric?" he said, his tone and expression greatly changed from his previous smile. He was being sullen, childish, confrontational - but could he help it? His big escape ruined by a man he'd only met once before. Ridiculous.

[OSRIC YOUNG]

Claudius had appeared pleased with seeing him, Osric thought, until Osric had tentatively voiced his opinion on the drinking and, well. Osric's fear had come true. Claudius looked mad, and oh, no, that wasn't good, Claudius couldn't be mad, no no no that wasn't right!

"Do you have a problem with my drinking, Osric?" Claudius said coolly, his smile falling away quickly. Osric flinched slightly at the cold tone, a little scared. He didn't know if he should answer the question or not. Osric knew so many facts and stories to back up why, exactly, he had a problem with drinking, but what if Claudius didn't actually want to hear the answer? He probably didn't. He probably just wanted Osric to say, 'Oh, no problem at all.' But he did have a problem with it and there was that itch again, the one that said he couldn't lie to his opinion.

He couldn't hold back.

"Well, alcohol can increase the risk of heart and liver disease, though it can actually decrease your risk of clots sometimes so I guess it's not that bad for your heart, and also sometimes it can make you not get diabetes. But it kind of sucks a lot because you can pass out and choke and die on your own vomit and that's really, really bad and not a very elegant way to die I don't think. And like, you can get really hung over and also when people are drunk they act really weird and you can do stuff like run around naked because intoxication makes your brain act funny. And sometimes dads hit their wives and kids. Or, I mean, I guess it could go the other way, like, wives hitting dads or kids hitting their parents but it's always the dad in the shows and stuff. And also hangovers suck a lot."

Osric was speaking at a mile a minute, barely taking breaths between sentences that were in very little structured order. Everything was true, but it wasn't being very eloquently put. Though, facts were facts. Saying everything he was saying would take a normal person about a minute or two. Osric took about twenty seconds. He paused. And then went on.

"And then there's drinking and driving, because, like, 5,000 people under the legal drinking age die every year because of it. Not that you're underage but like, well, about 1,900 car accidents and 1,600 murders and 300 suicides also happen, and a lot of people do things like accidentally set themselves on fire or drown because they're drunk and then they die like that. And, I mean, like 11,000 people die every year from drunk-driving car accidents every year. Eleventhousand, man, that's whole fucking ton of people!! I mean, I'm so lucky I'm not dead!"

Osric hadn't meant to say that last bit. Claudius probably thought it out of context. But everything he'd said in his second rant was also the truth. He'd memorized those statistics, read every sensible article online and in the news paper and books related to drinking and driving, car-crash related deaths and accidents. The month that Hank wouldn't wake up and his arm hurt if he moved it in the slightest. He hadn't been trying to be depressing, really he hadn't, but he couldn't let it be. It was one of his projects; one of his temporary obsessions.

[CLAUDIUS CHANDLER]

As Osric flinched a little at his tone, it was all Claudius could do to hold back a smirk. Really, what sort of reaction had the young man been expecting? It was after this initial, seemingly stunned, reaction that Osric began to speak again -but even this went beyond his usual capacity for speaking far too much. This was a ramble, a rant, that Claudius hadn't anticipated. It was his turn to look surprised but as Osric went on and on Claudius found his attention focussed more on his drink than the man who was addressing him.

He didn't want to hear this.

"Well, alcohol can increase the risk of heart and liver disease..."

Hector had told him he'd die from liver failure.

"And sometimes dads hit their wives and kids..."

He'd struck Harry in the graveyard.

"And then there's drinking and driving..."

Claudius was sure one of the speeding tickets he'd received when he was a teenager had had something to do with alcohol.

"...I mean, I'm so lucky I'm not dead!"

This caught Claudius' attention. He looked at Osric once more, his expression quizzical though by no means less angry -if anything Osric's rant had made him even more so.

"What do you mean?"

[OSRIC YOUNG]

Claudius looked pretty angry at him now. Oh man, he should have just... not said anything. Right. Like that was possible, but still.

"What do you mean?"

Osric, for the first time since seeing Claudius, looked away from his idol, turning his eyes towards his shoes instead. They were nice shoes. Well, Converses. Red ones, to match his red and black plaid button down. Yeah, shoes were good, they didn't get mad at people.

Osric glanced back up and Claudius, and how, the guy was so multi-talented; he was managing to look both angry and questioning now. Both faces at once. Wow. Yep, what a talented guy.

"I um," he stuttered, and the five second pause was probably the longest he'd taken between words yet. "Well, do you read the paper? I mean, I was in this car crash, like... a year ago. And um." He shuffled his feet, feeling guilty again. It was one of those things that no matter how much you say it lightly, and ever after people forgive you for it, everyone, including you, still knows exactly whose fault it is.

His.

"Me and my friend, we were at this party and we got kind of drunk, see, so I um. Well, it was my fault. He's younger than me. But he crashed into this other car, and it was... bad." He wasn't going into detail.

He could.

There were very few things that Osric could manage to hold back about. One was the crash. He could talk about the band extensively. Hell, he could even talk about Hank fucking around with his girlfriend and not hold back. But the crash was... Well, he liked to block it out. Not forget it, but block it out.

Block it all out.

[CLAUDIUS CHANDLER]

As Osric looked away from him - the first time Claudius could recall him doing so in his presence - and instead stared intently at his shoes, Claudius felt that he really shouldn't have asked.

"I um...Well, do you read the paper? I mean, I was in this car crash, like... a year ago. And um."

The uncertainty and the stuttering were most unlike Osric as far as Claudius knew him - that and the news he was imparting. Osric always appeared jovial and carefree - perhaps too much so. Was this what was hiding beneath his too-wide grins and laughter?

"Me and my friend, we were at this party and we got kind of drunk, see, so I um. Well, it was my fault. He's younger than me. But he crashed into this other car, and it was... bad."

Well...no wonder Osric was so touchy about the alcohol. But then, it wasn't as though Claudius' drinking had anything to do with Osric's year ago car accident. He wasn't particularly trying to be callous - he couldn't deny he felt sorry for the younger man - but this was no reason to lecture Claudius freakin' Chandler.

"I'm sorry to hear that but I don't see what it has to do with my decision to come out tonight for a drink - or, for that matter, to drink whatever I want, whenever I want. It's none of your business."

He paused, seeming to realize how bad that had sounded. He looked down at his glass as though blaming it for what he had said. Then,

"I really am sorry, Osric. You know, if this was any other situation I'd offer to buy you a drink - a lousy gesture of sympathy, I know, but anyway it doesn't suit this scenario." He cast about for another option. Then,

"Why don't you take a seat, I'll give you some more material for that book of yours."

Hopefully that would cheer Osric up and prevent any further lecturing.

[OSRIC YOUNG]

"I'm sorry to hear that but I don't see what it has to do with my decision to come out tonight for a drink - or, for that matter, to drink whatever I want, whenever I want. It's none of your business," Claudius said. Osric stared at his red Converses. Red, red, red. Red and black. Greed. Blood. The sun.

For some reason, he felt reminded of the time he had talked to his father all night. Literally, until morning, just about school and girls and music. But then his father had fallen asleep in his car after he'd parked it at work, and was late to a meeting for an important case he'd had that day. His father hadn't been mad at him, not really, but Osric had still felt guilty. He felt so guilty.

"I really am sorry, Osric," Claudius continued. "You know, if this was any other situation I'd offer to buy you a drink - a lousy gesture of sympathy, I know, but anyway it doesn't suit this scenario." Osric smiled a little at his shoes. He shoes probably liked that; they didn't get smiled at often, now did they? That'd be so lonely, to never be smiled at.

"Why don't you take a seat, I'll give you some more material for that book of yours," said Claudius, and Osric looked up quickly. Beamed.

"Really?!" Osric asked excitedly, and quickly claimed on to the seat next to Claudius. He positioned himself to sit cross legged - his knees stuck out a good bit beyond the chair because he was so tall - and dug his notebook that he took everywhere out of his pocket.

Hank called it his stalking notebook. Just because they were notes on people he knew and liked - phone numbers and birthdays and random facts he wanted to remember - didn't make him a stalker, he said, but Hank said Yes, it definitely, definitely did. Hank had written 'Osric's Stalking Notebook' on the front in permanent marker. Well, it wasn't coming off.

"So," Osric started, grinning widely, his mood completely brightened from a minute ago. He flipped to the first page of about fifteen where he had written down questions and other things for Claudius. It was probably a good thing for Claudius that the paper was small. Beyond those pages were lists of people whom knew Claudius, and then his coworkers, and his clients. Osric had done his research well.

"What's your full name? Like, do you have a middle name? What are your parents names? Are they still alive? How old are you anyways? You don't look that old." He didn't really take any pauses between his questions, and being him, also didn't think about the fact that asking ten subsequent questions wasn't the greatest way to interact with people.

[CLAUDIUS CHANDLER]

As Osric looked up, very quickly considering his previous despondency, and beamed - beamed! - Claudius knew he had said the right thing. No more lecturing and a chance to talk about his egotistical self - two for the price of one; a good deal as far as Claudius was concerned.

Unluckily for Osric, Claudius spotted what was written on the cover of his notebook. He would have questioned the younger man about it had he not launched into a series of questions, barely drawing breath between each one. Claudius couldn't help a smirk at the younger man's enthusiasm - it made a nice change from his previous accusations and, indeed, a nice change from others' views of him at present - Hector and Harry being the prime examples.

"What's your full name? Like, do you have a middle name? What are your parents names? Are they still alive? How old are you anyways? You don't look that old."

Claudius laughed.

"If you want me to answer any of your questions, let alone those five, you're going to need to slow down," he replied, good humouredly. "My middle name is Rex; my parents wanted something a bit less traditional after my first name, you know? My mom was Eva, my dad was Hamlet...like my older brother. I think he wanted to keep the name with the eldest son in the family - like a tradition. They've both passed on, I'm sorry to say. And as for how old I am, thanks for the compliment but I was born in 1968 - you do the math."






ooc: Before you roll your eyes at my choice of a middle name, I liked it for its relative shortness in comparison to the rest of his name, its aggressive sound with the hard consonants in contrast to the soft letters at the end of his first name - and correct me if I'm wrong but Rex is Latin for King. It fits him, I think.

[OSRIC YOUNG]

Claudius laughed at him, and Osric had at least a sliver of awareness to realize he'd probably asked too much at once."If you want me to answer any of your questions, let alone those five, you're going to need to slow down," Claudius said, but he didn't seem angry about it, more amused really. "My middle name is Rex; my parents wanted something a bit less traditional after my first name, you know? My mom was Eva, my dad was Hamlet...like my older brother. I think he wanted to keep the name with the eldest son in the family - like a tradition. They've both passed on, I'm sorry to say. And as for how old I am, thanks for the compliment but I was born in 1968 - you do the math."

"Forty-four," Osric said automatically, and didn't look down at the paper as he quickly scrawled down the facts Claudius had just provided him with. It was a shame Claudius' parents were dead; they were probably wonderful people too. Maybe he could find that guy who used to sleep out near his dorm when he was in college than claimed he could talk to the dead. Osric was pretty sure the guy was a druggie and that was all but one time Hank had said he knew his mother's name somehow. So maybe it was worth a shot. Probably not though. He didn't really like the thought of getting stabbed to death by a homeless guy while trying to make friends with him; it would look really pathetic in the paper. It probably wouldn't even make a good story. The obituary would be a laugh. And he'd never get to finish his book.

"Rex? That's an interesting name. Like the dinosaur. You're cooler than a dinosaur though. But dinosaurs are pretty damn cool." Osric paused thoughtfully, somehow overlooking the fact that what he'd just said made him sound like an absolute child. He, like many children, had once had an obsession with the extinct beasts. He had grown out of it, the obsession part, but that didn't really mean he thought them any less awesome.

He asked another question, this time making sure to only ask one. "Who're your friends? I mean, who's your best friend? Are they like, work people? At your work?" Well, maybe it was more than one. But they were all kind of the same question so he decided it was okay.

_{OOC: Nah, it's a fine name. I'm probably the one who deserves a bit of a disbelieving look for writing about getting stabbed to death by a homeless person.}

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[CLAUDIUS CHANDLER]

Claudius could not deny he was surprised at Osric's automatic announcement of his age, nor was he best pleased about it - he himself had not said it so as to prevent it being mentioned. It reminded him all too well of that not so long ago conversation with Hector that - espeically considering where he was at present - he would much rather forget.

Osric's not needing to look at his notebook as he scribbled down the facts Claudius had provided him with was also a little un-nerving, but Claudius assumed it to be one of the younger man's many eccentricities. Nevertheless, he returned his attention to his drink for a few moments in an attempt to avoid Osric's continued stare, only really returning his attention to the man when he spoke.

"Rex? That's an interesting name. Like the dinosaur. You're cooler than a dinosaur though. But dinosaurs are pretty damn cool."

Claudius laughed.

"Thanks," he replied. "It was sometimes used as a childhood nickname by my parents probabaly due to that association." Claudius had as bad a habit of wrecking things then as he had now he was older, only what he ruined had changed in scale and importance.

"Who're your friends? I mean, who's your best friend? Are they like, work people? At your work?"

Claudius gave an offhand shrug.

"Well, there are the guys at work, I suppose-" in other words, the sycophants or the guys with whom he went out drinking on occassion - "-but my best friend is actually Mayor Hector Tormei. We've been friends for over twnety years now."

It was clear from the way he spoke that Claudius was very proud - perhaps too much so - of his connection with the most powerful man in the city.

[OSRIC YOUNG]

Osric laughed along with Claudius as the man explained his middle name at one point being somewhat of a nickname as a kid. Osric wondered what Claudius meant by 'association.' He made a mental note to ask later. He would probably forget until much, much later, but that was alright. He had all the time in the world. He asked about Claudius' friends instead. A man like Claudius must have lots of friends.

"Well, there are the guys at work, I suppose," Claudius shrugged, and Osric nodded solemnly, able to tell Claudius wasn't very interested in talking about his work partners. "But my best friend is actually Mayor Hector Tormei. We've been friends for over twenty years now."

"Wow," Osric noted. He wasn't really interested in politics much, unless if had to do with the government being cruel and inconsiderate, but he did know who the mayor was, at least. And Claudius sounded very proud about that fact. "Twenty years," Osric repeated, impressed. It was practically a lifetime. Well, his lifetime. He looked at Claudius expectantly, before asking, "Where'd you meet? Er, how?" Osric paused, before adding, "Think he'd give me an interview?"

[CLAUDIUS CHANDLER]

ooc: Sorry it's taken me so long to reply - I hope its worth the wait! D:



"Wow. Twenty years...Where'd you meet? Er, how?"

Claudius hardly heard Osric's second query about Hector giving him an interview as the details of his and Hector's first meeting resurfaced. Hamlet, his brother, had still been alive then and Claudius had been bitter about his brother's position of power. But he'd made up for his brother's true power in less noble respects - namely partying and womanizing to his heart's content.

He had first met Hector in a bar.

Claudius had been particullarly out of it with the drink that night and, in his drunken state, had attempted to 'endear himself' to a woman who he hadn't realized already had a date for the evening. Unfortunatley for the pair of them the date in question had seen what was occurring and it was all but certain a fight would ensue - Claudius being so overconfident when drunk it didn't matter that, when sober, he could barely swing a punch.

It had been Hector who had saved Claudius' neck and averted the continuation of the fight. It wasn't as though the man was helpful in the sense of doing a good deed, rather, he saw it as an oppurtunity for the mob to have a powerful up and coming businessman, a Chandler, no less, under their control.

Seeing things as they stood now, it was clear the relationship between the businessman and the mafiso had not panned out how either had originally intended.

It made an interesting story, to be sure. Book worthy. Yet Claudius knew if he told the tale to Osric and the man ever finished his book - doubtless embellishing the story to have Hector in the role of some sort of guardian angerl looking out for Claudius, the hero - Hector would most likely murder him, even if they had been friends for over twenty years.

Claudius wasn't ready to die.

"Well, you know Hector used to run this book store - I don't know if he still does, now he's the mayor-" Claudius replied smoothly, the same lie he told every time he was asked how he and the mayor had met. It made everything easier and less incriminating for the pair of them and it made sense. "It's called Scribe. Anyway, I happened to end up there one day, we got to talking and it went from there,"

He paused. Shrugged.

"Not much of a story, is it? Not much to tell. As for Hector giving you an interview, he's a very busy man, running the city and all. I doubt he'd have the time even if he did have the inclination."

To give Osric lots of stories about how awful a friend he'd been for twenty years, no doubt.

[OSRIC YOUNG]

((OOC: Not a problem!))

"Well, you know Hector used to run this book store - I don't know if he still does, now he's the mayor - It's called Scribe," Claudius answered Osric's question evenly. Yeah, Osric knew that place, though he certainly hadn't realized it was the would-be-mayor's place. He'd been in once or twice during uni. He'd always liked looking around different bookstores, especially used or antique ones, just to see what kind of books there were out there, even if he didn't buy anything.

"Anyway, I happened to end up there one day, we got to talking and it went from there," Claudius shrugged, seemingly not wanting to go more into detail about it. "Not much of a story, is it? Not much to tell. As for Hector giving you an interview, he's a very busy man, running the city and all. I doubt he'd have the time even if he did have the inclination."

Osric's face fell ever so slightly for a second, as it'd be nice to get Claudius' best friend's opinion into the book. It'd almost seem strange not to. Then again, as Claudius said, he was a very busy man. So it was alright. Didn't mean he wouldn't try.

"Every story's at least something to tell," Osric said, mouth curving back into a small smile as he eyed Claudius curiously, still not really looking at the words he scrawled into his notebook. Which was true, even if the story was a crappy group of lies, or something equally as dull. But words were words. Words (or the embodiment of them) were what made, well, everything non-physical, really.

"So, I read your brother used to be head of your business. Well, Hamlet Enterprises, that makes sense," Osric tapped the end of his pencil to his lips thoughtfully, "But he died. Um, sorry about that," Osric added, subtly never being his strong suit. "Can you tell me anything about him when you were kids, or how you got into working in the same line with your brother?"