Autumn Statement sketch: Full House for George Osborne's Cliche Bingo Unfortunately, thought the House, the track is covered in snow, the buffet car's bare, the heating's broken, half the windows are missing, the driver's been laid off, the next station hasn't been built yet, and the engine's been sold to raise funds to pay for a wind turbine in Burundi. Now the Shadow Chancellor stood. "The national deficit," he began, "is not rising!" Cue hoots of mocking delight from the Tories. Still, at least Mr Balls realised his mistake before his front-bench colleagues, who had nodded along dutifully. "In last year's Budget," blustered Mr Balls, continuing to wrestle with his script in the manner of a man trying to pitch a tent in a gale, "the Chancellor said, "Our deficit reduction plan is on course - we will not waver."" Pause to locate punchline. Not wavering? He's not wavering, he's drowning! This, as the more literary members of the House will have recognised, was a pun on the title of Stevie Smith's 1957 poem Not Waving But Drowning, whose haunting final verse runs, "Oh, no no no, it was too cold always/ (Still the dead one lay moaning) / I was roundly condemned for dragging yet more hard-pressed families into the 40p tax band/ And not waving but drowning." Mr Osborne's turn again. "There's only one person in this chamber who's drowning - and that's the Shadow Chancellor!" he jeered, with the triumphant panache of a schoolboy who, on being told he smells, retorts, "No, you smell!" Suddenly his voice sounded much better. It's a familiar pattern: during any long budgetary speech, Mr Osborne will croak and gasp as if nearing his final breath, and yet, the moment it's time to respond to Mr Balls, he springs from his sickbed and lays about his foe with glee. Perhaps there is such a thing as a "miracle cure" after all.