Rudd bows out, having not made his colleagues show their hands.
For once, with the most peculiar of timing, he speaks plain English, struggling, stopping for long stretches to hold back emotion threatening to tip into tears, outlining his government's achievements to date.
It's a lot.
He must be wondering why he never put it all out there before now - in English, in small words that the electorate and journalists can understand. Perhaps he's even wondering why his young wonder-kid advisors never told him to, never wrote the speech that everyone wanted and needed to hear.
Suddenly Rudd seems like a quiet high achiever who didn't know how to sell himself. Who had poor advisors. Who was too busy doing stuff to believe he needed to do the odd bit of PR - with his own colleagues, as much as with voters.
But he buggered up, and the ALP, as they've been known to do, has turned on their own.
They've outed the man who led them out of a decade-long wilderness, was still (despite the hoopla) ahead in the polls. The ALP would have won the next federal election with Rudd as PM.
This is the man they've tossed overboard. That is how afraid they are, how far they will go to ensure that power remains theirs. They know the desolation of years of defeat. The necessary but thankless task of being in opposition.
Power is everything.
They are taking no chances.