Not since the GUBU days have we seen anything like it in here. As rumour gives way to actual developments more outlandish than any rumour, deputies have plunged forward on a roller-coaster ride all week. If a week is a long time in politics, this last week was a political lifetime. The Government was all over the place, in absolute tawdry disarray.
Only the memory of Tipperary South prevented a stampede over the precipice. The week started with Mary Harney refusing to take her seat beside Bertie Ahern but, as both stared into the abyss, both pulled back for the sake of the children.
And the children were never so fractious as they queued to dissociate themselves from the O'Flaherty appointment. Conor Lenihan, after a highly-stressed performance on Tonight with Emily O'Reilly, is reported to have called for a Cabinet reshuffle.
Dick Roche, accustomed to parading himself as the lead author of the Fianna Fail Internal Inquiry Report - a work that ought to be regarded apparently as a Roll of Honour - was in revolt.
So was Marian McGennis, who featured more prominently in the Roll of Honour than we had been led to believe. Her namesake, John McGuinness, was even more forthright. Sean Ardagh, a not-so-young man in a terrible hurry with a predilection for not passing up opportunities to come to the attention of the party hierarchy, found himself telling the wily David Hanly that he "regretted" the O'Flaherty appointment. Furiously back-pedalling, he added that he supported the decision and regretted only that 68 per cent of the people did not recognise its merits.
Their elders were little better. Jim McDaid was haunted by images of pre-1933 Germany in respect of the manner in which the media conducted themselves. His Cabinet colleague, John O'Donoghue, detected "fascism" in the approach of Fine Gael.
Michael Smith went on 6.01 News to blame the Moriarty tribunal for not requesting the right documents from Fianna Fail. And Brian Cowen flailed all round him on Morning Ireland, claiming that the media got it deliberately wrong and purported to quote to show how happy the tribunal was with Fianna Fail. And all of this was before the no-confidence debate got under way.
In this high-octane environment, the only surprise is that everything didn't go up in flames. Journalists didn't know which story to follow. Would they follow the cruel fortunes of the Memsahib of the diminishing PD household? Or the extraordinary good fortune of her old nemesis, Charles Haughey? Or the bizarre and arrogant performance of Charlie McCreevy, who gave two fingers to the Opposition and, through them, to the public? Or the latest missing £75,000?
The Haugh judgment seemed extraordinary in the reach of its implications. The invitation by Bertie Ahern to Hugh O'Flaherty to provide the missing piece of the jigsaw was mind-blowing in its audacity. The contemptuous dismissal of the Dail by McCreevy repelled even his own backbenchers. Then there was the image of the suite in the Berkley Court where Fianna Fail fund-raiser, Paul Kavanagh and his overworked staff strove to cope with the volume of donors who made the financial pilgrimage over three weeks to support democracy.
The damage done to the Coalition cannot be repaired this time no matter how equable the summer. If they resolve to soldier on it will only be because of the bitter spectacle of Seamus Healy being chaperoned to meet Seamus Pattison by Head Usher Paddy Behan. While Mary Harney was taking disproportionate flak for the O'Flaherty decision, Fianna Fail backbenchers were almost gleeful. That was before Tipperary.
Whatever about local factors, 22 per cent is a wipe-out. On top of that Fianna Fail is now alarmed at the prospect of the PDs disintegrating. Only the PDs can transfer to Fianna Fail the small parcel of votes they wouldn't otherwise get.
Helen Keogh has jumped ship for the same reason as Martin Cullen - to save her own skin. Councillors are following suit. Liz O'Donnell's displeasure over misplaced patronage is designed to pander to her own volatile constituency rather than get up her leader's nose. But it's having that effect.
Mr Justice Moriarty will ultimately decide if Bertie Ahern's Fianna Fail tried to hide the key to the party's cash book from the tribunal. There was a time when Mary Harney wouldn't leave it to the tribunal to decide. Meanwhile, property developer Mark Kavanagh was so piqued with Fianna Fail for not receipting his £100,000 that he stopped contributing but never mentioned a figure to Bertie or anyone in Fianna Fail and nobody asked him.
Drapier predicted that Bertie would rue the day he gave the nod for his backbenchers to line up on the plinth to criticise his own Finance Minister's Budget. They thought they could do it again on O'Flaherty. As the situation gathered momentum and threatened to get out of hand, the nice doctor from Monaghan, Rory O'Hanlon, was sent for. Suddenly the rebels went quiet and inexplicably voted down Brendan Howlin's motion to invite Mr O'Flaherty to appear before the Justice Committee. What could be the harm in extending an invitation to the former judge?
Ruairi Quinn described the snow-job by Fianna Fail at the Justice Committee as "the last straw" precipitating the Labour no-confidence motion. After a period reminiscent of GUBU days and with remarkable parallels to the collapse of the Albert Reynolds government, it was the only fitting postscript to the parliamentary year. In a perverse way the Labour motion allowed a Government riven in distrustful splinters to rally dispirited deputies for a not very convincing show of unity. Tipperary South struck terror into Fianna Fail and postponed the break-up of the Government. Bertie's memory lapses at Dublin Castle may have made an election before Moriarty reports imperative.