No Punch. No Judy. Just Marie, Stephen, Paul, Claire, Gail and Angela.

The bear-pit of PMQs with its roars, jeers and sneers was turned into the polite and calm chintzy tea parlour of the People’s Question-time; one lump or two Prime Minister?

Expectations of a ding-dong were high. The place was packed. But as Tory roars hit the roof when the PM arrived, Jezza’s entrance was muted; not a whoop, just silence. One MP noted how the new Labour leader materialised from nowhere as if “beamed in from Star Trek”.

So, in this more urbane environment, Jezza, looking like a veteran professor in an ill-fitting jacket, glasses perched on his nose, decided to use his first appearance opposite Flashman to ask some of the 40,000 questions emailed in from voters; six, in fact.

Interestingly, the first question from a Tory MP was about the Battle of Britain and a tribute to the few not the many, who had saved the nation from the Nazi scourge. Immediately, people’s minds turned to the chief comrade’s controversial decision not to sing the national anthem. Would this be the moment for Dave to let rip at Jezza's disgraceful behaviour? Er, no.

The only veiled reference was when the PM said the St Paul’s commemoration had enabled “many of us…to pay tribute” to the Spitfire pilots, who had nobly defended Britain against the odds.

The chief comrade rose to a cheer but failed to mention the Battle of Britain at all; rather he launched into his series of questions from voters covering housing, welfare and mental health.

The Tory front-bench raised a collective eyebrow as Jezza eschewed any attempt to score a single political point.

Interestingly, the Islington MP appeared relaxed and asked his questions with confidence and remarkable ease. In a week of shambolic presentation, it was arguably his best moment.

The only flash of sparring came when the SNP champion Angus Robertson rose to mark the referendum’s anniversary and asked the Tory toff why he had reneged on the Vow.

Dave jumped up to insist the UK Government had in fact delivered on all its promises; at this point, the Nationalist benches fell about in exaggerated laughter, led by their giggling Glorious Leader, Alex Salmond.

The PM accused the Nats of being obsessed by process and asked them to come up with a list of things the Tories had reneged on. Or where they frit? He probably meant feart.

Dave had to admit the more temperate approach to PMQs would “take a bit of getting used to”.

No doubt the Tory berserkers, who each week gave Ed Miliband the hairdryer treatment, were screaming inside at Corbo. Their time for hooting and jeering will undoubtedly come. Punch and Judy will return.