On dearie me. Dominic Raab’s first speech as the shiny new Brexit Secretary did not get off to an auspicious start.

The well-scrubbed minister rose to deliver his first Commons dispatch box speech in a calm and considered manner when, after a minute or so, the chamber descended into uproar.

The only thing missing in this Whitehall farce was an MP in his pyjamas chasing a semi-naked woman through the chamber.

Labour MPs stood up, sat down and stood up again, pointing this way and that to complain they had not yet seen sight of the Government’s two-years-in-the-making White Paper on Brexit. Julian Smith, the wide-eyed Government Chief Whip, started mumbling in colleagues’ ears as a ripple of concern spread along the front bench.

The words “disgrace” and “shame” bounced around the chamber. Comrades Ben Bradshaw and Angela Eagle were looking up at the press gallery, gesticulating to members of the fourth estate to helpfully lob down their copies.

MPs’ indignation had been increased because HM Press had preferentially been given sight of the controversial document hours before MPs had.

As the tumult rose, so did the Speaker, crying: “Order. Order.”

Referring to MPs’ “considerable unhappiness”, John Bercow, in his usual non-patronising way, asked if the minister would rather stop so MPs could get sight of the missing document. Mr R caused more uproar when he suggested it was on its way.

When the Speaker pointed out how some copies had been made available to “some people,” MPs began pointing furiously at the hacks up in the gallery.

Mr Bercow repeated his nudge-nudge, wink-wink suggestion to the minister but the penny still did not drop. MPs anger intensified when Mr R nonchalantly noted how the paper was available on the Government website.

Seething Labour MPs started to walk out while others began shouting “Point of Order,” at which the Speaker finally gave in and suspended the sitting until MPs could get a copy of the document they were supposed to be debating.

Later, Mr Bradshaw and others returned with boxes, theatrically flinging copies of the document to colleagues.

When normality finally resumed, Keir Starmer, Labour’s Brexit champion, made fun of Mr R; it wasn’t difficult.

After “genuinely” wishing the new boy well in his Cabinet role, Mr S metaphorically punched him on the nose, suggesting the “utter shambles” of the paper’s publication was a metaphor for the way the Government had handled the Brexit process.

It was difficult to disagree.

Next week: Theresa May in Chase Me Comrade!