As usual, it was Pat Rabbitte who caught the public mood. Reminding the Dail of the days when C.J. Haughey boasted "a retinue like an Arab sheikh", he subtly associated the Fianna Fail party with the current regime in Baghdad, and the rest was inevitable.
On the predominantly Arab Government benches (apart from a late appearance by Dessie O'Malley, the PDs were again missing, presumably on security advice), they braced themselves for the bombardment.
And as usual it came from the air: from the moral altitude at which Deputy Rabbitte operates, air strikes are always the only option.
Having stealth-bombed the Taoiseach on Wednesday with the question about his relationship to the appeals commissioner, Mr Rabbitte again slid in under radar cover, this time to target the Minister for Finance.
He pattern-bombed Mr McCreevy for a while - "cavalier", friend of the "nod and wink men", that sort of thing, before going in for the kill, suggesting that in the Minister's eyes, taxpayers should consider themselves "fortunate that Mr Haughey wasn't granted a rebate".
Not for the first time since the story broke, the Ceann Comhairle was moved to warn about the dangers of civilian casualties (with particular reference to the appeals commissioner).
But the Opposition would not be put off by the fear of collateral damage; and John Bruton, more of a B52 than a stealth bomber (you can hear him a mile away), was the most blunt, calling the Taoiseach's appointment of his brother-in-law a "stupid decision".
If Mr Ahern's eyes had been Scud launchers at this point, the leader of the Opposition would have been toast. But the Taoiseach was relatively restrained when he rose to reply. He admitted the affair was "deeply embarrassing"; he stressed the impeccable professional credentials of his brother-in-law, who was "not particularly close to me, but that's irrelevant"; and he assured the Dail the commissioner's decision was "far from being the end of the matter".
He may not have answered all the questions, but he did enough to quieten the Opposition benches. Indeed, the Standing Order 31 debate - so called after the rule that allows discussion on matters of urgent importance - had the look of a Section 31 debate at times, as the protagonists went through the motions with the voices of actors.
Successive speakers talked of public outrage. Ruairi Quinn spoke of the huge numbers of phone calls Labour were getting (and as if to prove the point, Brendan Howlin's mobile went off in the middle of the debate). And John Gormley called for the removal of the Charles Haughey portrait - "with those famous gimlet eyes and that imperious gaze" - from the Dail corridor.
But such verbal flourishes aside, you couldn't help sensing the Opposition would have been shocked if the Government had acceded to demands for an extension of the ail session.
This became even more obvious when they formally challenged the adjournment of the house at 4.45 p.m. Having voted, most of them didn't even wait for the result, trooping straight out, past Ol' Gimlet Eyes, to get on with the business of Christmas. Back in the Chamber, the party leaders had already put away their differences and were exchanging the traditional seasonal messages. Peace on Earth and goodwill to all men (except one, maybe).
