On balance, Keir Starmer can probably live with this. The first four months of his time in office may not have been quite as straightforward as he would have liked – he must have been hoping for a six-month honeymoon period – but at least he can tick off prime minister’s questions as something he doesn’t have to worry much about.

Kemi Badenoch is turning out to be the gift that keeps on giving … to the Labour party. Put simply, the more you get to see of her the less there appears to be.

Behind her rather patronising, condescending facade there’s a largely empty interior. She is riddled with levitas. Her self-confidence is in inverse proportion to her abilities. She’s not nearly as bright as she thinks she is and quite where she got the idea she is a brilliant performer in the Commons is anyone’s guess. It’s Liz Truss levels of delusion.

Kemi clearly thought that being leader of the opposition was going to be a doddle. That all she had to do was turn up, sneer a bit and ask her six questions and that Starmer would dissolve in front of her eyes. Cue thunderous cheers from the Conservative benches. It turns out that PMQs is a lot more difficult than it looks. It takes detailed preparation, pitch-perfect timing and a razor-sharp mind. None of which she has yet demonstrated.

To be kind, one could say this is early days. KemiKaze is only a couple of weeks into her new job. But to make the necessary improvements will require a level of humility. The grace to admit she has been a disappointment. The grace to admit she’s looked out of her depth. But grace and Kemi are not natural companions. So you can see the concern on the Tory benches. Realising too late that they have been conned. It’s not yet a catastrophe for them. But it might well be soon if it goes on for much longer.

Meanwhile, Keir is living his best life in the Commons. Maybe it’s something about being in government. Or maybe it’s just knowing that nothing his opponent may say can wrongfoot him. As leader of the opposition, there was something a bit wooden about his performance at the dispatch box. Those “Lego man” jibes hurt because there was a kernel of truth. But now Starmer is a changed man. Full of energy, quick-witted and often surprisingly funny. Who knew?

It helps that Kemi is her own worst enemy. She began by making a snippy remark about Starmer’s attendance at Cop29 in Azerbaijan. This may play well with the right of her own party but it doesn’t land well with most of the country. Floods and droughts in many parts of the world are a genuine concern. Just not to KemiKaze. The empathy bypass was on full view. Is this really the new caring Tory party?

The rest of the exchanges were no better. Kemi thinking she was on to a winner only to realise she had set herself a trap. She huffed and puffed about a council tax increase that was entirely her own invention and then tried to pick holes in the budget while admitting she was thoroughly in favour of all Labour’s spending priorities.

Keir almost looked sorry for her. Almost. Instead he pointed out the blindingly obvious: that she was financially illiterate. She wanted all of the benefits but none of the pain. Kemi sat down with a wide grin, seemingly oblivious to the self-inflicted disaster. Her shadow chancellor, Mel Stride, took her by the arm and whispered, “You were fab.” A lie.

Thereafter there was a litany of planted questions from Labour backbenchers that turned the Commons into a pointless echo chamber, before we got to the unofficial leader of the opposition. Step forward, Nigel Farage. Looking even more orange than his sidekick Richard Tice. Clearly there has been a battle over the sunbed. Or maybe it’s just been unseasonably hot in America. After all, it’s been months since Nige was last seen in Clacton.

“Would the prime minister congratulate Donald Trump on his landslide victory?” he harrumphed. Er … If he’d bothered to be in the Commons last week he’d have heard Starmer brown-nosing the president-elect effusively.

But then reality dawned. Nige no longer really sees himself as a UK MP. Rather he is the member for Trump Towers. A man whose principal job is as an advocate for the Donald. He either doesn’t realise or doesn’t mind that he is of little consequence to Trump. A useful idiot at best. Any amount of ritual humiliation is worth it for a few minutes bathed in the Shadow of his Goldenness.

Starmer used to treat Nige with suspicion. As if fearful of what he might stir up. No longer. Now he went straight for ridicule. Mocking him for a rare appearance in the Commons. Joking that he expected to see Farage on the US immigration statistics. Nige tried to laugh along. Like all narcissists, he would rather be the butt of the joke than totally ignored. To be ridiculed is to be valued.

Minutes later, Nige was back on his feet with an urgent question about the Chagos Islands. Now obviously he doesn’t give a toss about the Chagossians but he’d been speaking to his mate at Fox News who will be the Donald’s new defence secretary and had a few concerns. So could Britain please go back on the deal to hand the islands to Mauritius?

Then up spake Brave Dicky Tice. America must have what America wants, he said. Britain’s entire foreign and defence policy must be reconfigured to suit the Donald. He’s got no idea how dim he really is. If there’s one thing even sadder than Nige being Donald’s Unloved Mini-Me, it’s Dicky being Nige’s Unloved Mini-Me.

• Taking the Lead by John Crace is published by Little, Brown (£18.99). To support the Guardian and Observer, order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.