History of sorts was made in the Commons on Wednesday. It’s not every day that a minister is called to answer an urgent question on whether he still agreed with what he had said the day before. Or the day before that, for that matter. And on the whole, junior Foreign Office minister Alan Duncan did agree with junior Foreign Office minister Alan Duncan that the prime minister designate, Boris Johnson, had thrown Kim Darroch, the UK ambassador to the US, under a bus and was guilty of contemptible negligence.

With so little else going on in parliament while the Tory leadership coronation meanders to its conclusion – dozens of MPs are missing, presumed dead, trapped under large bales of tumbleweed – L’Affaire Darroch has dominated proceedings for three days now. First as an expression of outrage that confidential diptels should have been leaked, then astonishment at Johnson refusing on six occasions to defend Darroch from Donald Trump’s insults, and finally disgust at the ambassador’s forced resignation.

Even on busy days, MPs like to have something to deplore. But to have something so genuinely serious to deplore and to have so much time in which to deplore it meant a field day for everyone. Duncan began in a tone of utter solemnity. It was with deep regret … The ambassador had had the support of the prime minister … He was grateful for the tributes that had been made and the black armbands that had been worn across both sides of the house … You could have been forgiven for thinking that Darroch had died rather than merely resigned.

Labour’s Pat McFadden declared it to be a dark moment for democracy. Which it has been. The notion that the president of any country – let alone one that is meant to be our oldest ally – gets to choose which ambassador he will or won’t deal with is absurd to everyone but Boris and a few hardcore Brexiters. Under a Boris regime, all ambassadors could expect their emails to be leaked and would only report back that “The President was perfect. The people sing his name in the street.” The leaks were just a continuation of the attacks on judges as “enemies of the people” and MPs who votes with their consciences as “traitors”.

There was a brief respite while Labour’s Liz McInnes enquired quite why Theresa May had been so supine about Donald Trump’s interventions. Duncan had to explain it was force of habit: the prime minister had got so used to being rubbished and disrespected by her own MPs that she was now trapped in Stockholm syndrome and didn’t expect any better from anyone else – but what mostly followed was a pile-on from both sides of the house.

MPs who had never previously even heard of Darroch now sobbed about “Dear, dear, Kim. He was such a good friend” as they tore into Johnson and demanded an inquiry. Even Tories Roger Gale and David Morris, who are normally better known for their cowardice, got in on the act. It’s fair to say there was no one in the chamber who was expecting a job in a Boris government. The more ambitious Tories are learning to wear their shame in private.

For the most part, Duncan demurred. The member in question couldn’t have spoken with greater authority or wisdom, but he couldn’t possibly comment any further on the probity of Johnson. “I have already said enough,” he whispered, smiling coyly. “I have spoken of the merits of Kim Darroch. I will not speak of the … um … er … merits of anyone else.” The second “merits” was used very loosely. Mainly because “shitshow” might have been deemed unparliamentary.

It did slowly dawn on Duncan that Darroch was actually still living and the Sydney Carton “It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done” was a touch premature. So he went on to express the hope that Darroch would go on to serve the UK as ambassador in some country that wasn’t run by an inept, dysfunctional narcissist. Somewhere peaceful, somewhere quiet. North Korea would do. You could also sense him about to let rip. To say what he really thought. That Boris was an embarrassment and totally unfit to run an allotment, let alone the country. But somehow he managed to keep his mouth shut.

Tom Tugendhat, chair of the foreign affairs select committee, drily observed that taking back control seemed to imply a state of servitude to the US, while Wes Streeting implored Duncan to ensure that a new ambassador was in place before Boris could get round to appointing an inappropriate stooge. That was above his pay grade, Duncan shrugged. Though he could assure the house that unlike some inquiries that were set up to make sure the guilty parties were never caught, this time the Foreign Office and the police meant business. Some people will be starting to get very sweaty. Was getting their man really worth two years inside?

Finally, silence. The deplorathon was over for another day. Still, there was always next week.