Douglas Ross has an aggressive case of P45 Syndrome. He’s handed in his resignation, is working his notice and no longer gives two hoots what anyone thinks.

His final FMQs as Tory leader showed all the tell-tale signs.

Sarkiness. John Swinney declared himself in ‘active dialogue’ with local authorities over social care. 

According to my Swinney-to-English dictionary, that means he’s talking to them. 

The inclusion of ‘active’ remains a mystery but perhaps it means he phones them while out jogging.

The Douglas Ross Lexicon offers an alternative definition. ‘Active dialogue is telling them they are having their budgets cut yet again by this SNP government,’ he snipped.

Presumably you can do that while jogging, too. Probably advisable when you’re picking people’s pockets.

Then there was name-calling. ‘John Swinney wants to get applause from the clapping seals behind him,’ the Tory leader harrumphed after the Nationalist backbenches came noisily to their boss’s defence.

‘Mr Ross!’ the Presiding Officer growled. ‘Yet again I must draw your attention to Standing Order 7.3.’

Does Standing Order 7.3 forbid insults to seals? Is she worried a walrus might sue for being compared to John Mason?

Apparently not: ‘Members shall at all times conduct themselves in a courteous and respectful manner.’

Ross wasn’t in a courteous or respectful mood. He inveighed against the nation’s drugs deaths, alcohol fatalities and lowered life expectancies. 

‘The SNP is bad for Scotland’s health,’ he railed.

He was letting them have it. It was like that film Death Wish, where a mild-mannered Charles Bronson snaps and goes on a rampage. 

Except instead of bumping off muggers, Ross was setting about one Nat leader after another.

Then came another gloomy monologue about the desiccated state of the country under the SNP. ‘From Salmond to Sturgeon to Swinney,’ he fumed, ‘all that they have achieved is dividing Scotland.’

Poor Humza Yousaf. Ross managed to forget all about his 13 months in Bute House.

Oh, and he was impudent. Even made a dig about Swinney being ‘considerably older’ than him. Cheeky wee toerag. He’d have got a clip ’round the ear in my day.

I found this all immensely refreshing. Ross’s take-no-prisoners approach delivered one of his sparkiest FMQs performances. 

He should have thrown caution to the wind sooner and let rip like this every week. I particularly savoured his commitment to giving a comprehensive list of all the roads the SNP promised to upgrade but didn’t. 

He rhymed them off: ‘A9, A90, A96, A7, A75, A77…’ If the MP thing doesn’t work out, he’s got a bright future as a bingo caller.

Ross has been Conservative leader just shy of four years, an eternity in these times of blink-and-you’ll-miss-’em party leaders. 

As political shelf lives go, a Ross is a pretty respectable span, equivalent to half a Sturgeon, three Yousafs and 29 Trusses.

If things go his way on July 4, he’ll stand down as both Tory leader and MSP for North East Scotland. (Labour’s not even back in yet and already people are losing their jobs.) 

He’s done his bit at Holyrood and now it’s time for someone else to roll up their sleeves.

The Conservative jefe has never hidden his preference for the halls of Westminster.

For all its faults, the Commons is a battleground where grand rhetoric, low jibes and the occasional idea are exchanged. 

Even on a good day, Holyrood just can’t compete, with its sterile modern architecture and pervasive air of mediocrity. 

It’s like someone corralled every public sector HR manager into an Ikea and called it a parliament.

Even so, it’s a hell of a time to shift your Tory political career to Westminster. 

Given a choice between the smouldering ruins of the Conservative Party and a weekly wall of clapping seals, Douglas Ross still sees more of a future in the former.