To Play the King

Is Westmonster the only person finding the LibDem leadership contest (2007 edition) a boring-tacular anti-climax?

The 2006 bloodbath was thoroughly enjoyable viewing and had a certain end-scene-in-a Shakespeare-play style feel to it. As the bodies lay scattered around the throne, gradually everybody realised that they'd killed off the king, his rightful heir, and pretty much anybody else who would have been a reasonable ruler.

First there was Mark Oaten and his gentleman friend, then Simon Hughes coughed up that he may have had a gentleman friend, Chucky K. glowered on malevolently from the sidelines roaring "avenge me!" at various members of the Parliamentary party, Teather started washing a lot and whispering stuff about all the perfumes of Arabia not sweetening her little hand, and in the end the only bloke left standing (the Second Messenger, as portrayed by Sir Ming) became King. 

This time we've got two blokes who are virtually indistinguishable from one another apart from the fact that Huhne has got a Greenpeace sticker in his car window, and wee Nicky looks good on telly. What would The Bard do with this yawn-fest? Westmonster can only wonder.