THE Church of Salmondology was testifying loudly at First Minister's Questions.

The SNP backbenches, as they were previously known, were furious at the accusation they'd become little more than a "cult" of "obedience and slavishness" to their leader.

As if! Everyone knows it's not a cult if there's a real-life deity involved.

The claim was first made on Tuesday, when the Unionist parties, unhappy over committee shenanigans, accused SNP MSPs of putting party loyalty ahead of parliamentary scrutiny, and whitewashing a critical report.

Salmond's congregation was livid when it came up again today.

Shaved heads bowed, saffron robes knotted just the way he likes, they banged their empty rice and catfood bowls in spontaneous protest.

It got so bad the Presiding Officer staged an intervention and ordered one of the raging brethren to her room.

But first there was Labour's Johann Labour, leader of a lost cause rather than a cult.

She demanded to know if the FM was going to sack Alex Neil from the cabinet.

Before he was health secretary, Mr Neil had campaigned against the loss of mental health beds from the Lanarkshire constituency he hoped to represent, but lost the argument.

Then along came his promotion and within days he told officials to rewrite their plans and keep the beds in Airdrie & Shotts after all.

To all but a cult member, it looked like a clear conflict of interest, with Mr Neil using his cabinet post to engineer a constituency booster against medical and patient opinion.

Heck, Labour even had the smoking email in which the order was given, several hours before Mr Neil officially stepped aside and delegated responsibility to his deputy.

The health secretary had "deceived this parliament and deceived the people of Scotland", said Ms Lamont, earning a rebuke from PO Tricia Marwick.

"The answer is no," the FM declared on the sacking idea: he'd already clocked the file and personally cleared Mr Neil of breaking the ministerial code, so that was all right then.

"I reviewed the evidence and came to the conclusion that Mr Neil acted perfectly properly," he said with a straight face.

Ms Lamont accused the FM and his poodlish permanent secretary of being "in on this".

The Eckvangelical choir didn't like that one little bit.

A menacing hum of Carmina Burana broke out.

"I suppose that in the sense that I am the First Minister of Scotland, I am in on everything that happens in the Government," said Mr Salmond, inadvertently handing the opposition a stick they'll use to beat him until his last day in office.

Tory Ruth Davidson then asked when Mr Salmond was going to fix the Commonwealth Games "shambolic ticketing fiasco", and was accused of making "party-political petty points" and associated alliterative atrocities.

But the real fun and games came at the end, when Labour heretic Ken Macintosh used a point of order to challenge the Church head on.

Holyrood committees used to be braw, independent places, he reminisced, but now it's all "sheer government obsequiousness".

This was too much for some worshippers.

As the Church choir took up the theme from Jaws, a cry of "Rubbish!" rang out.

The PO quickly blamed SNP hothead Kenny Gibson, who thrice denied it was him.

"Mr Gibson, I am not arguing with you over the chamber. I will see you in my office after First Minister's question time."

His cult brother Stewart Maxwell then piped up.

"It was not Mr Gibson who called out during the previous point of order; it was me," he said.

"I do not wish Mr Gibson to be blamed for something that I was responsible for."

Ms Marwick flashed a predatory smile.

"Mr Maxwell, I thank you as always for your honesty and integrity," she purred.

Then a cruel pause.

"I will see you afterwards."

Alas for Mr Maxwell, it turned out to be a suicide cult.