This Mandelson story is the grift that keeps on grifting.

Titillating to bear witness to the hyperbolic outrage from Gordon Brown – who hired him after the first two scandals – presumably after his father’s moral compass had gone skew whiff – and Keir Starmer, the so-say savvy former Director of Public Prosecutions, who could be bamboozled that effortlessly by a few piddling porkies.

Don’t be mugged off by these clowns.

I’ve never met Mandy, but he’s manifestly a weapons-grade shitbag. As bent as they come, and I’m not referring to the carefully positioned brown Stetson he dons to the line-dancing soirées at Strangers’ Bar.

Do the powers-that-be really believe that all these hobnobbing high-rollers aren’t exchanging favours?

Why else would they even offer to share the steam of their piss?

Information is power, and those reprobates on Epstein Island were all craving to shoot that nectar directly into their veins.

Hiding in plain shite.

And that’s precisely why a succession of Labour leaders has continued to welcome Mandelson back into the fold. This is one person they all preferred to have inside the tent pissing out.

The big risk was never any future scandal involving him, but one that he might instigate if they didn’t get him on board. He knows where all the bodies are buried, after all.

The sleaze story isn’t that he was leaking info. It’s that the Labour Party – the heart of the self-enriching liberal elite – has no guiding principles or decency.

They are scum, and hypocritical scum at that. Boris Johnson will be turning in his political grave.

Who’s next, then after Starmer’s inevitable defenestration? Wes Streeting? What a bummer. I’d rather shit in my hand and clap.

Would the last person to leave, please turn out the lights?