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Even then, it really wouldn’t do to go back to the same well, or wells, a few days later with a fresh plea that, by an incredible coincidence, the second-born had also been whisked away by another bunch and the new crowd were being a little testy about a quick ransom.

Now, I am not suggesting any of these speculative scenarios were Mr. Grewal’s, but merely sketching how typical mortals might encounter a similar emergency to his, and the attendant obstacles to hitting up your buddies for a few million on impressively short notice. Invent or die would be the motto. Obviously Mr. Grewal is a very resourceful man. Either that, or his friends are either inexpressibly generous or unspeakably gullible.

The precarious odyssey had to end, and it did.

In November, Mr. Grewal confessed a gambling addiction, and, in the best modern manner, announced he was seeking help, offered that he would be resigning his seat of Brampton-East and not running again. The Liberal government wanted him out of its caucus and he went to the far limbo, or if you prefer the phantom zone, of the Independent MP. He also declared his mammoth debts had all been paid with the help of family members.

Parliament recessed, Christmas revelry intervened, the story departed the front page, new ones commanded the eyeballs, China threw a fit, etc.

And then, fresh sputterings from the mini-volcano.

Mr. Grewal returned, and posted to Facebook (the Hansard of choice for politicians in turmoil) that he had been thinking things over, repented his “ill-advised” statements of just two months ago, and moreover that his strong fealty to the Brampton district now compelled him to annul his promise of resignation, stay on as MP, and run in the next election.