DÁIL SKETCH:It seems the worst that bankers such as Colm Doherty will face is the disgust of a Taoiseach

APPALLED? CONFUSED? Delighted? Cynical? Curious? Dishevelled? Write to Madam.

It’s all the rage in the Dáil. You were nothing in Leinster House yesterday if you didn’t have a nom de plume.

It started when Joe Higgins took a dim view of the Taoiseach’s response to questions about AIB’s Three Million Euro Man.

Enda had indicated there was nothing his Government could do to claw back some of the handsome package paid to the bank’s managing director when he resigned last year – although he said this with a heavy heart.

Enda is absolutely disgusted at the idea of Colm Doherty waltzing into the sunset with three million in his hip pocket while the taxpayer is bailing out his bank to the tune of billions.

And is that it? Well, no. Enda is “appalled”. That’ll rattle the bankers, not to mention those untouchables from the legal and accounting worlds who facilitated their madness.

Enda is appalled.

Wait. What’s that noise? It’s the sound of knees knocking in some of the more exclusive golf resorts. Not.

“Taoiseach, this isn’t good enough,” fumed Gerry Adams. He believes the Government can introduce emergency legislation to soften the coughs of the wildy remunerated.

Then he went and ruined it.

“This is an act of subversion!” declared Gerry, with passion, but leading with his chin again.

That tickled them on the Government benches.

“Well may you laugh,” replied Adams, sulkily, “but it’s the people’s money . . . you can put a stop to this.” But Enda is of the view that his hands are tied. It’s not always that easy to get cash back.

“I’d like as well to get back the monies that disappeared in other situations, as you’re well aware!” he told Gerry, with a deft jab below the belt.

Joe Higgins is always appalled. He wasn’t happy to see Enda Kenny stealing his clothes.

Is high dudgeon the best the Taoiseach can manage in the Doherty case? “You say you are appalled, as if you are a letter writer to The Irish Times – ‘Appalled from Castlebar.’ That’s not good enough!” Enda hit back.

“I think your letter should be signed ‘Confused from Dingle’”. Joe assured Enda that he is not at all confused.

He pointed out that the Government can introduce “draconian” legislation to change the pay rates of workers such as porters and cleaners and teachers, yet chooses “to stand idly by” while major bankers wipe the taxpayer’s eye.

Sinn Féin's Mary Lou McDonald got in on the act. "I notice the Taoiseach is delighted with himself – the troika are so satisfied with his revised Memorandum of Understanding, I wonder if his missive to The Irish Timesmight not be signed 'Delighted of Castlebar'?"

As this little exchange was taking place, Joe Higgins was trying to get the attention of Mick Wallace.

Wallace had just asked the Taoiseach if consideration had been given to capping the salaries of top-earning public servants, given the dire state of the country’s finances.

Minister Alan Shatter couldn’t resist taking a pot shot at the Wexford developer.

“Pay the bankers back, Deputy,” he shouted. Joe caught Mick’s eye. “Mick, Mick,” he hissed, “did you hear what Shatter said?” The Socialist Party leader was clearly affronted on Mick’s behalf. Deputy Wallace nodded and smiled.

Enda, meanwhile, was lost in the letters page.

“This is not Appalled of Castlebar or Confused of Dingle,” he told Mary Lou, deputy for Dublin Central. “This is Cynical of Cabra!” Richard Boyd Barrett tried to harness this Madam moment during the Order of Business. He had a question. “This is from ‘Genuinely Curious of Dún Laoghaire’,” he began.

“This is not curious, this is the Order of Business,” snapped the Ceann Comhairle, slapping him down.

Pat Rabbitte, Beau Brummell that he is, smirked across at the People Before Profit man. “Dishevelled of Dalkey!”

Down the road on Merrion Street, Flabbergasted of Finland had just delivered his written assessment of the causes of the Irish banking debacle. He has spoken to lots of people in the course of his investigation.

A lot of people were devastated by what had happened, he told a packed press conference in the Department of Finance. But there were “others who still think that everything would have been fine if just Lehmans [bank] hadn’t happened”.

He must have been baffled by the reaction to that statement. His audience started laughing. What he didn’t know was that he was articulating the Bertie Ahern defence: “It was de Lehmans that did it.” Now that Bertie is advising the Nigerians on how not to make a mess of their economy, there is a rumour that he has shortened his name to fit in with local custom. “Good Luck Bertie” is very popular in Africa.

Back home, he is more popularly known by his full title: “Good Luck Bertie (and don’t let the door hit you on the arse on your way out)”.

Meanwhile, Enda is steaming ahead with his Government for change. He isn’t afraid to speak his mind. He is appalled, and he doesn’t care who knows it.

Which brings to mind Bertie Wooster and the time he tried to talk sense to Angela Travers, who said she was going to marry Gussie Fink-Nottle.

Bertie, like the Taoiseach, was appalled. He recounted how he got nowhere with Angela and left in a huff, but not before he imparted some chilling words.

“‘In that case, tinkerty-tonk’, I said. And I meant it to sting.” What-ho, Enda.