In the novel Shantaram, the reformed heroin addict and convicted armed robber Gregory David Roberts sets out some basic rules for street fighting, of which the most important is to “always get crazier than the other guy”. It is a theory he puts into practice seconds later in a fight with three Indian prison guards, which begins with him punching himself in the face, smearing his own blood across his forehead and telling them: “You’ll get me! You’ll get me! But one of you, standing there, will lose an eye. One of you. I’ll rip someone’s eye out with my fingers and eat it! So come on! Let’s get on with it!”

From a position of certain victory, the prison guards nonetheless panic and retreat.

Viewed through this unlikely prism, Theresa May’s strategy for getting her now hilariously maligned Brexit deal through the House of Commons starts, vaguely, to make sense. Vote my deal down, she is telling the hard Brexiteers, and you might end up with Remain. Vote my deal down, she is telling the Remainers, and you might end up with no deal at all.

Your entry-level analysis of the Brexit chaos is to point out she can’t possibly do both and is therefore bluffing. But that, surely, is the point? One of you is going to lose an eye. I’ve no idea which, but one of you will. So what do you do?

Which brings us belatedly on to Prime Minister’s Questions at which, with his very first question, Jeremy Corbyn wanted to know if, as the new work and pensions secretary Amber Rudd had said on the radio that morning, “no deal” really was no longer an option and parliament wouldn’t let it happen.

This was a question May all but declined to answer, for no greater reason than it is not immediately clear how parliament could move to block no deal. No deal is the default option. You can only block the cliff edge by pointing the car in a different direction.

She pointed out that Corbyn’s current position appears to be to oppose her deal, then via a general election he has no power to grant, negotiate a new deal in the “implementation period” that won’t actually happen if he votes down a deal. Meanwhile he won’t say whether there should or shouldn’t be a second referendum, what the question in it should or shouldn’t be if it does or doesn’t happen, or how he would or wouldn’t vote in it. (Attention apprentice street fighters: craziness and uselessness are not the same).

At the very end Esther McVey appeared to ask May if the UK would definitely leave the European Union on 29 March 2019. She told her yes, it would. These “yes/no” questions at which the prime minister can only possibly answer one way have served an interesting function in recent political years, chiefly to get the prime minister to put on the record in the public cameras a position that might very well end up not being the case. See David Cameron’s eight plain claims on similar occasions when asked if he would quit if he lost the referendum, or May’s continual ruling out of a snap election.

But anyway, there you have it. It’s my deal, no deal or no Brexit. But we’re definitely leaving and we’re definitely not leaving without a deal.

Vote for my deal or don’t, but one of you is going to lose an eye.

There is a political street fight coming – could it be that sensible May has worked out the only sane thing to do is go absolutely crazy?