John Prescott had died and so MPs, some of whom may even have known him, stood up for perjury.

Cabinet minister Louise Haigh opened the day in parliament by recalling “a visionary transport secretary”.

Mark Ferguson (Lab, Gateshead Central and Whickham) said “rarely has there been a better example of working people being meant to rule”.

Kemi Badenoch believed he had been a “true patriot – no one who had two Jagers could not love this country”.

Sir Keir Starmer claimed that Lord Prescott “set the path for us all to follow”. The Prime Minister, who ever graced a stately occasion with its most poignant epigram, bit his lip and claimed that “his legacy lives on in all of us”.

At the King’s English Society, meanwhile, a cellar door creaked and some dazed souls in tin helmets appeared, blinking in the daylight, asking, “Is it finally safe to come out?”

To which the answer is: “Maybe not.” Formal tributes will follow in the Commons next week – it is not impossible that some nonsense will be uttered.

To parliamentary sketch writers, John Prescott was our Everest, our woolly yeti, irresistibly loathsome.

John Prescott’s family announced that he passed away today at the age of 86 after a battle with Alzheimer’s

Sir Keir Starmer claimed that Lord Prescott “set the path for us all to follow”. The Prime Minister, who ever graced a stately occasion with its most poignant epigram, bit his lip and claimed that “his legacy lives on in all of us”

Hansard stenographers looked at his raw words and somehow had to piece together believable sentences, like British Museum restorers gluing together shards of Greek urn Brian dropped from the Minoan depot.

“We’re going to eliminate the homeless by 2008,” Prescott once bellowed.

Another boast was that “the green belt is a Labor achievement and we intend to build on it”. With knowing superiority, he confided, “If I were to read everything I read about myself in the papers, I wouldn’t have time to do my job.”

Read the papers he did, though. He was wonderfully thin-skinned.

Words poured out of him, flying to the outer walls of the House of Commons and spraying everyone with boiling laughter.

“It’s not the sanity of the picket lines that bothers me,” he said, “it’s the sanity of human life”.

Shortly after he was caught nagging his diary secretary, he had to walk into a jeering Commons to stand in for Tony Blair at PMQs.

When he began by referring to his “daily activities” there were cheers from his opponents.

Prescott served as Deputy Prime Minister in Tony Blair’s administration

Born in Wales to a railway signalman and a domestic helper, Prescott was always a staunch defender of his working-class roots

A then Labor MP for Swindon, Anne Snelgrove, took exception to this laughter, shouting: “We’re proud of him.”

Tory heckles, “She’ll be next!” Ms. Snelgrove, a ringer for Ronnie Barker, nearly exploded with crossness.

Prescott rarely showed much grasp of detail but he became a political fixture. There is a lesson in that: We look to politicians as much for caricatures as for governments.

However, it would be wrong to hail him as a trailblazer in the working class, or even as much of a Democrat.

John Major came from an equally difficult childhood and achieved more, without grammatical incident.

During the 2005 election, I tried to report on Prescott’s campaign. His itinerary was kept secret, but I tracked him down to Edgbaston and was there to greet him as he got off his bus.

He took offense and shouted: ‘It’s the fascist, look, that’s what the fascist Daily Mail looks like!’ while a female assistant led him to safety. Only one of us that day was interested in democratic scrutiny, and it was not the Rt Hon member.

One of Prescott’s main responsibilities was to act as a mediator in the troubled relationship shared by Tony Blair and Gordon Brown

Prescott rarely showed much grasp of detail, but he became a political fixture. There is a lesson in that’, writes Quentin Letts

Now he is collected. But please, we can do without the “visionary” stuff.

His M4 bus lane was soon scrapped, as was his ten-year integrated transport plan.

He was Blair’s token mechanic.

Some of the left who yesterday praised Prescott’s background were markedly less favorable to blue-collar views at the time of Brexit.

Towards the end I would see him trudging along the Abbey towards the House of Lords, having come down from Hull on his own by train.

It was clear he was drifting into a land of his own and he would beam at me in a misty way. I was no longer “the fascist”. Funnily enough, I never was.