Fake it Till You Make It

Norma Khouri was supposed to make a statement to the media answering all the doubts Malcolm Knox raised about her identity (tick one): a) yesterday b) today c) three days ago. I have no idea; all I know is that she ain't sung yet.
From the Sydney Morning Herald, the paper that exposed Khouri as a fake, comes cold comfort in the form of a spoof:
"So, what can I say: Knox has got me, fair and square. But what you may not realise is that "Malcolm Knox" is himself a creation. The young literary editor, hardly out of short pants, but with a couple of bestsellers already in print? Of course, it's all too good to be true. In truth "Malcolm Knox" is the nom-de-plume of the Herald's veteran rugby league writer, Roy Masters, who had long been searching for an outlet for his more sensitive and sensual storytelling.
What's less well known is that "Roy Masters" is himself a fiction; his muscular, ball-by-ball league reports are in fact filed by Good Weekend's fashion columnist, Maggie Alderson, ever hungry for a break from reporting Europe's tempestuous fashion scene.
Yet what may be the least known fact of all is that Alderson - with her side-businesses of "Knox" and "Masters" - is herself a fake: in truth, the whole newspaper is written by two gnarled sub-editors in the couple of hours after lunch."