Some Boris fans had advised him not to go to the House, fearing he would flop. But he whacked and peeled and pummelled a sub-par Corbyn. He Kenwood-mixered the myxomatoisoid old coney, left him a fearful mess.
While veterinary surgeons crouched sorrowfully round Corbyn, the shadow chancellor, John McDonnell, leapt from his frontbench seat. He was so cross at Boris’s success, it looked as if he was going to stomp out of the chamber in fury. Thinking better of any walkout, Mr McDonnell decided he was going to pour himself a glass of water from the carafe next to the dispatch box. The glass quivered in his hand with agitation.
The prime ministerial statement was entitled “priorities for the government”. The real object of the exercise was to break the parliamentary ice. He did not want to endure the long weeks of the imminent summer recess knowing he must still face a hostile Commons for the first time.
He took his place at 11.28am, while Jacob Rees-Mogg, the new Leader of the House, was taking business questions. Mr Rees-Mogg had quoted Tudor history, squashed a sour Tom Brake (that always cheers the House) and had been notably non-partisan on several issues. It was the best ministerial debut I have seen.
Boris was greeted with a roar. Mind you, few of the May regime were present. No misery-man Hammond. No Gauke or Fox, Hinds or Clark (or even the normally omnipresent Ken Clarke). The only three sackees visible were Karen Bradley, James Brokenshire and Mel Stride, who at least showed some character by attending. Boris was flanked by his foreign secretary, Dominic Raab, on one side, his chancellor, Sajid Javid, on the other. Near by was Priti Patel, beaming at her remarkable elevation to home secretary — a moped finding itself on the Isle of Man TT.
Mr Johnson’s opening statement was OK, if long. There was stuff about “making this country the greatest place on earth” and more threats to leave the EU without a deal. The prepared statement ended with talk of “a new golden age”. A few eyes rolled at that. Sir Oliver Letwin (C, W Dorset) pursed his lips in a queeny moue.
But Boris came alight when responding extempore to Mr Corbyn and others.
Corbyn opened by saying “no one underestimates this country”. Tory heckler: “You do!” The Labour leader also tried to make a thing of Ms Patel’s past support for the death penalty, and claimed that Mr Johnson intended to sell the NHS to American businesses. Boris flew into a fiery defence of the health service, throwing his fists up near his head like a concert pianist flourishing his fingertips. All this was done in a torrent of unrehearsed words while he swivelled on his heels, cast his arms left and right and generally did a zumba workout. Behind him, admiring Tory MPs mimicked his punches.
Now he was bellowing at Mr Corbyn for being a stooge of Iran and mocking him for his U-turn on Europe. It was worse, he said, that the Invasion of the Bodysnatchers. He had been “jugulated and reprogrammed and turned into a Remainer”. It was all of a piece with his “tergiversating career”. By now even Karen Bradley and James Brokenshire were laughing and cheering. The change in mood on the Tory benches was remarkable. Never sad, unconfident twilight again.
“We,” cried Boris, “are the party of the people!” Behind Mr Corbyn the Labour MPs slumped. Ed Miliband (Lab, Doncaster N) curled at the shoulders.
The normally cheerful face of Chi Onwurah (Newcastle C) was a junction of frown lines.
It lasted for an hour and a half and he took 129 questions. He didn’t muff one.