The bustling city streets of Toronto never take a break. At any moment you can hear a police siren, a man tapping down the street in his neatly shined shoes, and the engine of a bus roaring to its next destination. There's only one sound that cannot be heard anywhere but in this magical city.

It's usually around 3AM after the restaurants clean out their daily waste and give a bounty to the local bums. Starting with a near inaudible rumble and building into an indescribable storm, the legend begins.

There's nowhere safe. One could possess the necessary items to deter the beast, but even those people sometimes fall prey to the monster. I remember that fateful night when I met him. I was 19, just visiting a friend for the weekend.

We decided to go to a casino Saturday night. After much of my little money lost to blackjack tables and pretty cocktail waitresses, we decided to trek back to my friends apartment and finish the night by gorging on day old pizza. I still wonder how I'm still alive.

We stumbled out of the casino full of hunger and regret. Only about 5 blocks away from my friends apartment, the streets started to shake.

"Char10, we have to run!", my friend cried out with terror.

I had no time to ask questions, because my friend had already started to dash away from me. I tried my hardest to keep up, but stride by stride I saw my friend fading into the darkness. Before I could say maple syrup, the beast came out of an alley and put his nose on mine. I'll never forget what he told me before I fainted:

"Hello there, I'm Rob Ford."