IT was the morning after the night before, and MSPs gathered to reflect on the carnage Westminster had wrought in their most recent all-night sesh.

Our sober – or at least sobered-up – MSPs had the air of parents who’ve arrived home to find their teenage daughter has invited hundreds of strangers round for a house party. The carpet is sticky, the cat is traumatised, and the oven is broken because somebody tried to roast a Pot Noodle.

MSPs are not angry with MPs, they are just very, very disappointed.

And who can blame them? Wednesday was a day that saw Theresa May – with all the grit of a truly strong and stable leader – promising to resign if MPs backed her deal.

The principles that Boris Johnson tried out for a few hours earlier in the week melted away quicker than a ’99 on a hot summer’s day. Slavering at the thought of putting his trotters up in Number 10, he decided to accept her kind offer.

The day ended with MPs refusing to agree on anything other than that they hate May’s deal, hate each other and hate themselves.

It was under this brutal hangover that FMQs began. When, moments into the proceedings, business had to be suspended to deal with a protester in the gallery, it seemed a sign of things to come.

Bravely or stupidly – and who even can tell the difference at this point – Jackson Carlaw rolled up his sleeves and jumped head-first into the Brexit swamp. He seemed surprised that dive-bombing into primordial gloop would see him emerge with some of it on his face.

You can tell how eager the First Minister is to answer a question from how quickly she jumps from her seat. When Carlaw asked about the Brexit shambles she nearly single-handedly completed the all-woman space mission that was cancelled earlier in the week.

Carlaw’s face tore through the colour palette: pink, blush and strawberry-red before finally settling on ripe aubergine.

He said the First Minister was ANGRY.

She was ANGRY that the Prime Minister hadn’t resigned so far and ANGRY about May’s vague timetable of departure.

"FAUX-OUTRAGE, GRIEVANCE, OBSESSION’’ he roared, giving us a teaser of his post-politics perfume line.

Amidst all the ANGER, Ken Macintosh whispered, "More succinctly, please." Nobody heard him. He wasn’t angry enough.

The First Minister is a bit of a Twitter pro, so it’s no surprise she was ready with a joke that would fit neatly into 280 characters. In response to Carlaw’s fawning praise of his Dear Leader she quipped: "She must be the only leader in living memory who has tried to fall on her own sword and managed to miss." 

She accused Carlaw of "failing to stand up for Scotland" and said he was "the last man standing up for Theresa May". Point of Order, Presiding Officer. That’s simply not true. David Mundell has valiantly not-resigned on no fewer than sixty-one occasions. The guy just can’t catch a break. He’s down there, doing the real sycophantic heavy-lifting, and he’s overlooked in favour of new Bullingdon Boy on the scene, Jackson Carlaw.

Richard Leonard obviously spent some time in the Twitter trenches recently, because he mentioned the hot button topic of the week. Namely, Selfie-Gate. No, not that one. Or the one before. The one where Nicola Sturgeon took a SCANDALOUS and UNFORGIVABLE – prepare yourselves for this, folks – PHOTOGRAPH with Alastair Campbell at the People’s Vote march in London.

Bobbing around like an angry Gordon Ramsay who’s just been served cold chips and cheese, he observed: "The First Minister was teaming up with some interesting people at the weekend, I noticed." 

Cue the roar of the SNP choir, some characteristic Swinney table-banging and shouts of: "HE’S IN YOUR PARTY!" Technically, true. Alastair Campbell is a long-standing Labour member. But he’s not got the password to the treehouse at the back of Corbyn’s allotment ("Jobs-First Brexit") nor does he know the secret handshake – so he’s not REAL Labour. Not in the Year of Our Corb 2019.

"Something, something, constitutional politics," mumbled Leonard, as the nation winced in sympathy.