While the past 48 hours have undeniably been a low-point in Gordon Brown's career, they've also served as a timely reminder of just how shallow, dim-witted and self-serving our beloved media can be.
It is no exaggeration to say that James Purnell's dramatic resignation on Thursday night left Mr Brown in a precarious situation. Having the fastest-rising star in your Cabinet jump ship and openly call for your resignation would be sure to unnerve even the sturdiest of PMs.
But while many believed that the vultures circling above included other senior figures, it now appears the flock was largely restricted to the usual band of suspects: opportunistic Tories, hackneyed Labour backbenchers, and – of course – our shamelessly trigger-happy press.
The Telegraph was predictably the first at the parapet, booming that Mr Purnell's scathing resignation letter had "opened the floodgates to other MPs openly demanding the Prime Minister's resignation".
That foreboding quickly snowballed on Fleet Street, with several tabloid front pages decrying what had immediately and almost unanimously been deemed the "meltdown" of Mr Brown's government. Even The Financial Times concluded that his administration was "crumbling".
Michael White of The Guardian was a lone voice urging restraint. "The pack gets too easily carried away by its own agenda," he sighed on his blog.
But mobs will rarely be swayed by admonishments. As the printing presses ground to a halt, and grey skies fittingly poured over Westminster's morning skyline – like an ominous and sickly oil spill – it was left to Britain's fabled broadcast journalists to take the reins.
And lo, what a sensationalist job they did. Sky News refused to switch off its jaundiced BREAKING NEWS ticker at almost any point on Friday, inundating the public with up-to-the-second bulletins on which Cabinet members had still not resigned, but might conceivably do so.
Across town the BBC was busy pumping out ever-more absurd reports from Nick Robinson, who illustrated his versatility by complaining about the Cabinet exodus whilst simultaneously slamming the fact that none of Mr Brown's "key advisers" had been booted out in the re-shuffle.
"You can't have it both ways," Peter Mandelson opined. "You can't have gone through these last few days ... talking about all these people who are leaving the government – and then telling us that they're the same faces."
Undeterred, the doomsayers forged ahead. On the Ten O'Clock News, an increasingly desperate Mr Robinson resorted to playing back recorded segments of Thursday night's Beeb coverage no fewer than three times – clearly left wanting after the lack of developments on Friday.
But come Saturday morn, Fleet Street's hang-over of reality had finally sunk in. The tabloids were left with little choice but to call off their dogs.
"James Purnell's dramatic Thursday night resignation as Work and Pensions Secretary failed to trigger an all-out Cabinet rebellion," The Sun grudgingly admitted. Its canny editors did manage to save some face, however, by burying the news in the 16th paragraph of their lead story.
And by this point Mr Brown had fled to France anyhow, paying his respects on the 65th anniversary of D-Day. Much like the frail and battle-worn veterans around him, the PM lives on to fight another day.
Perhaps next time, Britain's hacks will have the decency to withhold their obituaries until after the fact. I doubt it, though.