For a moment yesterday, we at the Daily News thought we had the biggest story since Blago.

It developed as I covered the Cook County Environmental Control Committee's response to an EPA report issued last month that noted Cook County had seven of the country’s top 100 chemical emitters. At the meeting, officaials said two of the companies listed in the report, A. Finkl & Sons and Temtco Steel, have plants in Chicago.

Cook County’s Environmental Control director Kevin Givens said all the companies listed in the report  were in compliance with the law.

So that was that. Five minutes. No news. And then things took a turn for the bizarre. 

When I couldn’t raise anyone from Lincoln Park’s A. Finkl & Sons (the country’s #21 emitter of chemicals, according to the report), I called Temtco, based on the 4900 block of Bloomingdale Avenue in Belmont Cragin.

A woman answered, and I asked to speak with someone who could talk to the media.

A man who identified himself as chief financial officer Ron Carry got on the phone and started talking to me. He immediately said he was familiar with the EPA report.

So I asked him what the company was doing to ensure nearby residents would be safe. After all, Temtco was ranked 67^th.

“We’re telling them not to come close to the building. It’s bad for you, real bad. Too much pollution,” Ron told me.

Cue silence. Most executives aren’t so forthcoming.

So, I asked Ron, could you elaborate? What kind of pollution?

“A lot of radioactive materials that are here in our products we manufacture,” the chief said.

“Ron,” I say, “what’s your reaction to being named the 67^th highest emitter of chemicals in all the land?”

“We’ve still got 66 worse companies, so it couldn’t be that bad,” Ron answered.

And with that our conversation was over. I sat back, wondering what the hell this was all about.

Determined to find out if we were being nuked from within, I called the corporate offices of Temtco, a Roswell, Ga.-based company called Namasco. The offices had closed for the day, and the phone system would let me dial neither by name nor extension.

Temtco’s Mississippi branch couldn’t help out. And none of the executives from Namasco were picking up their home phones (thanks, White Pages.)

I fired off an email to corporate executives asking for some explanation: Are you nuking us? And if not, why are you preying on my poor, inquisitive mind?

Finally someone picked up at the home of Bill Partalis, president of Namasco. Unfortunately for me, his wife informed me in no uncertain terms  I was interrupting dinner.

Just then, my cell phone rang. It was John Paschal, president and founder of Temtco, calling from Mississippi.

Why, John said in a voice reminiscent of Foghorn Leghorn, my story must be pure fantasy. Of the 17 Temtco-Chicago employees, there’s no one named Ron Carry. Heck, there’s not even a CFO. Was I sure I dialed the right number?

Since the receptionist said “Temtco” when I called, I told him I was pretty sure.

What I wasn’t sure about was if we’d be seeing three-eyed fish in Lake Michigan.

Paschal let loose a dignified Leghorn guffaw. Nope. Couldn’t be. You’ve been had, young man.

He also told me he thinks the EPA punked Temtco by including the Chicago branch on the list, which is released so the public knows what’s in the air.

“The report is not factual,” Pashcal told me. “There’s just so much false statements about these air emissions, about Temtco. It’s not fair.”

He says they report more information than they have to.

OK. Fine. Then why I did I spend my entire afternoon trying to figure out if Temtco’s CFO was crying “Chernobyl”?

Paschal couldn’t answer me.

So, do we chalk this up to April Fool's Day? Or head out to the plant with a geiger counter?