But let's not get overexcited.
Basically, the emergency services have finally arrived at the scene of the horrendous car crash that was the 13 year NuLabour experiment, and are making stern faces, putting on their helmets and setting up the rescue equipment.
We're all glad, pathetically glad, to see them, but we're still pinned in the wreckage, with petrol dripping into our hair, and we can't feel one of our legs.
The mess Cameron has been left to clear up is a lot bigger than abso-fucking-lutely enormous; it's probably even bigger than he and his colleagues realise, given how secretive the last Labour Government (mmmm, say it again, 'the last Labour Government') were.
Budgets were twisted, obfuscated and selectively quoted, departmental spending figures were deliberately witheld, all for political advantage. These figures now 'belong' to Cameron (and his mate, Gideon) and they can see the damage in black and white.
Open the shutters, CallMeDave, and let the the sunlight flood .. ugh .. what the fuck is that? Ewwwww... There are going to some horrible things at the back of cupboards and under the rugs, Dave. Things that look and smell foul. Things even Broon had forgotten he'd hidden.
So, as Labour activist @bevaniteellie (remember her?) used to say, it's #GameOn. The game isn't a 'gosh isn't bashing the party opposite fun' anymore though. Nor is it the game of hide-the-facts 'n' seek re-election.
No, the 'game' is that little game that cynical parents use on their wayward kiddies: ''Bet you can't finish all those sprouts while I'm not looking', 'Bet you can't tidy your room before I come back'.
So Dave: we bet you can't fix the economy before we come back.
Get to it..