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 the Great 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 infidels, unhappy over some committee shenanigans, accused SNP MSPs of putting party loyalty ahead of parliamentary scrutiny, and whitewashing a critical report.
The Nat congregation was livid when the suggestion resurfaced at FMQs.
Shaven 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 that Presiding Officer Tricia Marwick staged an intervention and ordered one of the raging brethren to her room.
First, Labour's Johann Labour, leader of a lost cause rather than a cult, asked when the FM would sack Health Secretary Alex Neil, who is accused of misusing his post to keep mental health beds in his seat against medical advice.
The Eckvangelical choir didn't like that one little bit.
A menacing hum of Carmina Burana broke out.
"I reviewed the evidence and came to the conclusion that Mr Neil acted perfectly properly," the FM said with a straight face.
Ms Lamont gave up the ghost, but the real fun came when Labour heretic Ken Macintosh used a point of order to challenge the Church head on.
Holyrood committees used to be braw, he said, now it's "sheer government obsequiousness".
It was too much for some worshippers.
As the Church choir moved up a gear with the theme from Jaws, a cry of "Rubbish!" rang out.
The PO blamed SNP hothead Kenny Gibson, who thrice denied it was him.
Then brother Stewart Maxwell testified: "It was not Mr Gibson who called out during the previous point of order; it was me," he said.
Ms Marwick flashed a predatory smile.
"Mr Maxwell, I thank you as always for your honesty and integrity," she purred.
A cruel pause.
"I will see you afterwards."
Alas for Mr Maxwell, it turned out to be a suicide cult.