1: Oh, look, have you seen this in the paper?
1: That big fella's died.
2: What big fella?
1: You know, the one who ran all those newspapers and that. Charles Kane.
1: Here, it tells you all about what he did - his newspapers, political career, buying crazy statues by the hundredweight - look.
2: Maybe later.
1: What, aren't you interested in this big old newspaper fella?
2: Not really.
1: But it says here about the opera house he built for his wife, who couldn't sing: classic!
2: Yeah, right. [BEAT] What were his last words?
2: Does it say what his last words were? Because that's the only thing that really interests me about this story.
1: Err...it doesn't say.
2: Not interested then.
1: They were probably "Argh", or "I feel funny", or "Can I have a statue?": what does it matter?
2: I just feel it's the only thing that can possibly interest me about this massive piece of news. Without his last words, I don't feel I know him.
1: You don't know him! He was a mad billionaire who lived in a mega-castle in America. He didn't go to Zumba. How could you know him?
2: Yeah, but what does it tell us about a man, eh? All these facts. All this biography. This in-depth obituary feature. No human interest, is there?
1: He was human, wasn't he? Can't get more human than that. He even ran for Governor.
2: Don't care.
1: Then he lost because he was having an affair. Except he wasn't even having an affair.
2: Not bothered.
1: Then he got divorced and married the other woman anyway, that's fascinating.
2: Pfft. I told you, I want human interest.
1: And he had a great big house, with all servants, and art, and a zoo.
2: A zoo?
2: Are there pictures?
1: Course. Look, some giraffes, a monkey. I think that's a manatee.
2: Brilliant! Give it here! Aah, look at all the lickle animals. That's what I call some proper journalism.
1: Yeah. Oh, Christ! I've just seen the back page - the England captain's been sacked!
2: Really? Wow, give me all the juicy details! Like, what's his favourite colour?