The Sketch: Unity or death? The latter looks a favoured option

Give me unity or give me death, poor Mr Thing has said. Hmmm, that's the choice, is it? Unity on the one hand, or ... death. That's a tough one.

There's no obvious answer to that. It could turn out to be the same thing for marginal MPs if they unite behind their leader; that's certain suicide. But then if they did unite, it could only mean death for poor Mr Thing. But then again, unity he seems to be asking for. But then, thrice again, judging by the coalition that is seen developing between the furthest reaches of the party represented by Michael Portillo and Eric Forth, the party has never been more united. What does it all mean? Death, death, death, everything means death, this is the modern Conservative Party, a death cult realising for the first time that all roads lead to Waco.

After the latest drama in which his judgement has been derided and his prospects discounted to absolute zero, poor Mr Thing rose to the demands of the narrative magnificently. In PMQs yesterday, he turned in the single worst performance of any parliamentary leader since Michael Foot turned up in a donkey jacket to the state opening of parliament and yelled republican slogans at the Queen.

For his opening shots, he asked precisely the same questions he asked last week. The comedy was enlivened by the fact that he got precisely the same answers. Farce repeated itself as tragedy. His inability to move the debate forward makes the tender hearted among us weep. Yes, we laugh at them too.

It was top-up fees. Last week, Mr Thing got top-up fees on the agenda (he got no credit for it then and gets no credit for it now). It's pretty clear Labour is going to stand by its manifesto commitment and not introduce this deeply Tory idea just yet. It's equally clear that Labour will introduce them if (if!) its elected again. It does stick to the letter of the law in these matters (remember Gordon Brown's refusal to rule out increases in national insurance contributions last time round).

We can't believe a word he says, poor Mr Thing cried. But Mr Blair is so unworried by the opposition leader he seems free to tell the truth. That's a very bad sign.

Poor Mr Thing tried the Gibraltar referendum. "Why doesn't he stand by the result?" poor Mr Thing asked wildly, ignoring that the referendum hadn't yet taken place. Michael Portillo sat in the top left of the furthest back bench, as far as possible from his leader. Plots swirled about him like ectoplasm.

As soon as poor Mr Thing sat down for the last time, Mr Portillo leapt up and left. What is he up to? He is such a twisted, intricate politician we have to consider the possibility he is following the least likely strategy.

Maybe he is saying exactly what he means. Maybe he really doesn't want to lead the Tory party just now; he's young yet. He could perhaps wield the dagger, destroy poor Mr Thing and install Ken Clarke, the oldest moderniser in the party.

Unity or death! It's a concise epitaph, at any rate.

simoncarr75@hotmail.com