Sometime in 2011 at a secret conclave deep in the Muskoka woods, Globe and Mail Ed in Chief John Crackhouse assigned a crack team of investigative journalists to investigate a series of alarming rumours they had picked up.
Doug Ford was "The Godfather."
Rob was his dimwitted front man.
Unbeknownst to the Globe's team of investigative journos, its cross-town rivals at The Star had heard the same rumours and were unleashing their own team of crack investigators!
Fast forward a year and a half... The Star team gets their expose to the people first! The dimwitted front man has been caught on tape SMOKING CRACK!!!
There is one minor flaw in their scoop; they don't have the tape.
The shifty dark-skinned drug-dealers who control the streets of Toronto for Doug's crack empire want $200,000 for it. The Star board of directors balk. They have ethical quibbles with chequebook journalism. Besides, it's way too expensive.
For an entire week the dimwitted front man goes to ground. The great city of Toronto is agog. 3 million souls wait for the next rock to drop.
Suddenly the dimwitted front man re-appears. He's his lively animated self on his weekly radio show. His confidence has rebounded, his joie de vivre is back!... He is confident that no tape exists!
Life is back to good!
Meanwhile, the Star's star reporters on the crack investigative team have lost all contact with their contacts in the Ford Empire of Crack...
Could it be that The Godfather coughed up the 200 grand?
Or does a far more sinister insinuation await us when we open our newspapers tomorrow morning?