“Ah, he’s finished. OK.”
If Britain didn’t already know Angela Rayner had absolutely no time for Boris Johnson’s nonsense, these four words were a delightful reminder.
They came after the PM did his best Porky Pig impression, spewing forth a lengthy, unbroken run of barely-relevant words which could hardly be called a proper sentence.
And presumably hoping people would forget the question he was asked.
The question was about how much care home workers get paid, he didn’t know the answer – and Rayner made sure everyone watching knew it.
Taking PMQs for the first time, the deputy Labour leader – who is a mother, a grandmother, a former care worker, sharp as a broken bottle and the Prime Minister’s absolute worst nightmare – left Johnson stumbling for words even faster than her boss.
Beyond his game show guest host affability, Johnson has as much of ‘the common touch’ as you’d expect of a man whose middle name is de Pfeffel.
And to Rayner, pointing out his posh boy inadequacies is a bit like shooting grouse in group of 30 people.
Johnson always looks like he hates PMQS.
He’s objectively bad at it, relying on a binder full of notes with a photograph of each potential questioner in the top right of each page.
Starmer, absent today as he was just emerging from self-isolation, usually spends the weekly clash enflaming Johnson’s allergy for 40 minutes, leaving the PM with neither an epi-pen or a helpful chorus of Tory MPs for comfort.
But where her boss is a forensic pair of tweezers, Rayner is a thunderous JCB, ready to bury the PM in a pile of his own broken promises.
“Get some skates on”, she boomed, as the PM waffled about care home safety.
“Meanwhile, on planet earth”, was the brutal assessment of Johnson’s Covid testing ‘moonshot’.
And somehow she managed to drive her digger down a long, winding road to her inescapable, final question: “Is grouse shooting really the Prime Minister’s priority?”
At one point, Johnson seemed to pine for his usual sparring partner, noting Starmer’s family member had tested negative and adding: “I don’t know why he’s not here.”
The reason he wasn’t there, as Rayner pointed out with theatrical exasperation, was that Starmer had had to wait 48 hours for a test result because of another of Johnson’s broken promises.
But there may have been touch of jealousy in Johnson’s moan about Starmer taking the day off.
Over the years he’s frequently had to make excuses for his own bad judgement.
It’s always “the public are taking too many tests”, or it’s “the EU are being terribly unfair”, or it’s “I was playing squash with my accountant until one in the morning, dear.”
But having to do it every week on national TV is of very little benefit to him.
You’ve got to wonder how much longer he’ll bother turning up.