Dáil Sketch:You know the way when somebody asks you a serious question, and you're supposed to know the answer but you don't really, so you start talking and keep talking and when you eventually have to stop, you look at them, and they look at you, and you both burst out laughing? That was Bertie and Pat yesterday.
The Taoiseach had been on his feet for a full four minutes, attempting to tell Deputy Rabbitte what the Government was going to do to regulate auctioneers' pricing practices.
Bertie went all around the houses with that semi-detached and sympathetic tone he adopts when problems encountered by a particular section of society are pointed out to him. In this case, it was the plight of young people who are struggling to buy their first home.
Now that the property-buying hysteria seems to be subsiding, auctioneers face the appalling vista of having to work to sell houses. The profession's response, according to Pat Rabbitte, was a disgraceful threat to increase their fees. This saddened Bertie. He talked and talked. Noel Dempsey took out his phone and started texting. John O'Donoghue folded and unfolded a piece of paper. Brian Cowen leaned on his hand and appeared to go to asleep.
Finally, Bertie's voice began to trail off. Pat Rabbitte was in stitches. Bertie looked across. He tried to remain serious, but he couldn't. As he resumed his seat, he too was laughing.
The Taoiseach had surpassed himself. Gravitas needs a straight face, but Bertie's deserted him. He beamed across at Pat, with a grin that said "You've got me. Bang to rights. But God, I'm good." Pat was impressed. "Well! Of all the rambling, meandering, irrelevant answers that you have ever given in the House, that amounts to the worst that I have ever heard." Credit where credit is due. All that was missing was an all-party round of applause. Even the Ministers woke up.
Just in time for Joe Higgins, who had been silently rehearsing his routine for the previous 20 minutes. This signalled a spectacular.
He didn't disappoint, with a wide-ranging attack on the takeover of Bupa, which embraced snouts in troughs, wolves at the door, wolves in the bed and Mary Harney as Little Red Riding Hood.
He would have won the day, were it not for another outstanding performance from Bertie during the Order of Business. The Taoiseach crowned his earlier triumph with a brazenly arrogant refusal to allow the Opposition ask him any questions when the Moriarty tribunal report comes before the Dáil.
"I went down and gave my good time to the eminent gentlemen. Enjoyed it no end," he snorted. "But I done that, that's over, so I'm not answering anymore questions. I've answered enough questions about signing blank cheques." Blank cheques? Tell us more, cried the Opposition.
No problem for Brazen Bertie. "Sign blank cheques? Aw, I did. Signed loads, for all kinds of organisations and clubs. For years. Gave it up now. Cost the State a fortune to find me guilty, but anyway . . ." He may be losing the run of himself, but the man's a credit to the accounting profession.
