"Oh yeah," agrees Stanley, in the tones of someone remembering a little factoid he hadn't thought about in a while. If he seems not at all embarrassed at the little social boo-boo of congratulating his very straight brother on being a verified grade-a homosexual, it's because he isn't. Why should he be? It got him just the reaction he was hoping for, and he's too busy thinking about that info and where to take it next to consider pretending. "The school mentioned someone like that, some guy sharin' the grant money with you. It was some weird name the guy had, but, uh-"

He finishes opening the second can, sticks a couple spoons in - metal spoons, even, fancy - and holds one of them out toward his brother. "I don't really remember it. F-somethin'?"