The season of ill-will, animosity and moral ostentation is upon us, and where better to celebrate that than the Chamber of the Commons?

Both leaders revere the traditions of the House – Keir revived a trope invented by one of the Abrahamic elders of Parliament – possibly someone called William Hague? – who, in the pre-history of modern government, asked the benches opposite to raise their hands if they’d said the PM was a really bad politician. “Come on, who was it?” And, “Who said ‘He really has to go?’” and, “Hands up, there must be some of you?” Arms twitched. Hands were pressed under thighs to keep them hidden. Like Dr Strangelove, the party’s collective arm was longing to spring up. It was a Christmas game everyone enjoyed, and will enjoy again.

The PM in his turn reached back into the ancestral wisdom of Parliament and repurposed a Tory witticism. When young people were calling Churchill a fascist, Dan Hannan said, “Wait til they find out about the other guy.” Rishi Sunak thanked his opponent and said, “He should hear what they say about him!”

His backbenches – who were putting up the bravest show of loyalty – gave the remark a great welcome. It was an old friend.

But all was not winterval banter. There were serious things to be said about compassion, love, children. Keir referred in wither-wringing tones to a heart-rending story. He had heard about a dog, a little dog called Chequers who was facing a Christmas without hearth, home, or a little boy to love because he had been left on the street by Tories and had only a lethal injection to look forward to under a municipal Christmas tree. “All he wants is to be happy,” Sir Keir told a silent Chamber. “If no one in the party opposite will speak for little Chequers,” he said, “it is only Labour who will give the love to that precious little scrap of adorable dogginess, the love he so, so very desperately deserves,” he choked (NB dialogue enhanced for journalistic purposes).

Stephen Flynn took up the theme and developed it with a Middle Eastern twang. To cries behind him of “Shame!” he criticised the UK’s abstention on the UN vote calling for a ceasefire in Gaza. Shame indeed, they must be right. How a leader can call for a ceasefire when neither party wants one (an argument made by Andrew Mitchell earlier in the week) – it is to misunderstand shamefully the meaning of care, compassion, courage and other technical terms so common in a certain sort of public house politics.

“How can he explain that 153 nations are wrong and Westminster is right?” he wanted to know. The answer is simple enough (see above).

Why Keir Starmer didn’t pursue his forensic deconstruction of Rwanda is less easy to explain. His backbench MP Beth Winter – part of that violently pacifist movement Stop the War Coalition – asked a question he would have done well to commandeer himself. The MP for Aberdare had noted an application for a tender from the Home Office worth hundreds of millions to cope with refugees up to 2030. Even the Home Office don’t believe he’s going to stop the boats!

They ended their session with a tribute paid to all key workers in Britain. Though not quite all. Those who toil ceaselessly in Guido’s vineyard to keep the lights on and the home fires burning – we were noticeably excluded from the great inclusivity. We don’t work for thanks, though, and perhaps it’s just as well.