Rob Ford, P.I., gazed contentedly on the scene before him. A crowd of police were herding a bunch of drug dealing scum and weapons selling filth out the door of an Etobicoke apartment building.
“My streets, my rules,” Ford muttered to himself.
Suddenly, one of the criminals broke free from the pack! The police ran after him.
“Ford!” the figure in the dark hoodie yelled. “You’re as guilty as anyone!” And then the police caught him and dragged him off.
“Take him to the chief’s car, boys,” Ford said. The chief, standing beside Rob Ford, nodded.
“Good work cracking this case, Rob, * Chief Brent Blatz said. “You going undercover that one night was one ballsy move.” And the chief raised two fingers to the brim of his cap and brushed them over it, in a small salute.
“It was nothing, Chief,” Ford said over the shouts and chatter of the police radios. “Sometimes you have to think like the enemy to defeat them.”
“Nice,” the chief said. “Shakespeare?”
Ford shook his head. “Theismann.” Then he looked at his watch. “Well, Chief, a policeman works from sun to sun, but a P. I.’s work is never done.”
“Yeah, yeah. Get outta here.”
Ford walked three steps, then turned around. “Say, Chief, that guy in your car…”
“I’d like to question him personally, if you catch my drift.”
Blatz looked at Ford, then smiled. “Sure. Just deliver him in one piece, if you can.”
“Chief, there’s no bout adoubt it.” And the two men shared a brief, hearty laugh before parting.
With the help of two policemen, they transferred the struggling prisoner to Ford’s Esplanade.
“Yeah,” Ford said. “Leave the handcuffs on.” And he pulled away from the scene of the raid, into the soft greys of an early Etobicoke morning.
They drove in silence on the 427 for a while. Then, Ford said, “Scum.” Another moment of only the hum of the Esplanade’s engine, then both men started laughing. So hard, in fact, that Ford pulled off the 427 to wipe tears from his eyes.
Then he reached over and pulled down the hood of the hoodie. Doug Ford smiled back at him.
Rob looked at his older brother for a moment. “Bro,” he said, “sweet undercover work here.”
“Bro,” Doug replied, “you started it.”
“The Fords rule!”
“Others drool!” And Rob Ford started up his Esplanade and headed back onto the 427, giving Doug a high five when they were in the middle of traffic.
“This’ll show some of those never work lefties that they were wrong about you,” Doug said.
Rob looked at his brother while cars veered around the Esplanade. Then he said, “I have no comment. Bro.”
And then they high fived each other again and kept going down the road, laughing on the way to their next exciting adventure.