You whiz around the corner in your rented moped when suddenly you're forced to come to a sudden stop.
It seems a funeral procession has stopped for a quick breather. Empathy overwhelms you and you offer your condolences to the whimpering man nearby. "Were you close?" you ask, wishing you hadn't.
After a moment, the man replies, "Brothers and sisters I have none, that man's father is my father's son."
That sounds sarcastic, you think to yourself. Maybe the guy doesn't want to tell you, which is fine, but there's no reason to be a smartass about it.
Or, perhaps the clever among can see this is the real answer.