Holding a smoker on the night of the US election, nobody could have pretended that there wasn’t sufficient fuel for this comedic fire and last night’s show was delightfully, if not surprisingly, peppered with plenty of jibes at that star-spangled banner. In fact, the night was kicked off by Alex MacKeith’s wide-eyed, gawking Romney, asserting his "street-cred" with gems such as "I’ve got ninety-nine wives, but a bitch ain’t one" and"mormon-y, mo’ problems". The night was rounded off on a similar theme, as we were serenaded by a southern duo (complete with plaid shirts and jaunty cowboy hats) recounting Jesus’ bespoke voting advice (or maybe it was to love thy neighbour – don’t concern yourself, Jesus would definitely vote Republican).

America aside, the Footlights, once again, offered up an evening of entertainment of the standard we have come to rely upon. There were a few acts that wavered momentarily, including an amusing but repetitive description of an imaginary dead dog, complete with awkward bodily contortion. The tirade against Pantone’s food orientated colouring scheme veered slightly too far towards the metaphysical and existentialist to retain the audience’s full attention and understanding. However, these were more than made up for by the originality and ingenuity of the pieces amongst which they were embedded.

Emma Sidi’s tripped-out cinema student, however, who was presenting a commentary on Billy Elliot, was a highlight of the night. Squinting and sweating, her anecdotal off-shoots kept the skit rambling along nicely, while her defiant accusations of our judgement of her subject choice touched an amusing nerve.

The rest of the sketches ranged from the more traditional ritual humiliation of a boy by the pretty girl, to a more frenetic, surreal job interview for the job of cocaine taster – let’s just say that when this one finished there was white flour everywhere. All of these, nonetheless, where performed with the Footlight’s signature panache and vivacity. Everything was suitably off the wall, as one might have anticipated. My only regret would be that one particularly promising sketch was cut short rather abruptly when a rather integral pair of handcuffs gave way, but surely my disappointment at such deprivation is merely testament to the entertainment of the evening.