Sketch: Andrew Bowie tries to pogo his party to victory

Andrew Bowie bounces onto the stage, ignoring the fact his party is teetering on the edge of an abyss. The always-energetic MP has travelled to Edinburgh (presumably by pogo stick) to lend a hand in launching the Scottish Conservatives’ manifesto. He has, he says, a “positive Conservative message” to share.

“People are fed-up of the SNP,” he declares triumphantly. And while that may be true, it’s not clear why this is necessarily a good thing for Bowie and his colleagues. People are still fed-up with them.

Bowie ploughs on. The Tories’ message is to stop an SNP majority. Not to replace them in government, you understand. Even Bowie’s space hopper couldn’t create a bounce in the polls big enough for that. But he will be happy with literally any other outcome than an SNP win.

Russell Findlay enters the room to a standing ovation and whoops. Today’s manifesto event is the “most exciting launch since Artemis 2”, he says, causing some moderate chuckles. He hasn’t been this excited “since Scotland qualified [for the World Cup]”, he adds. More polite laughter. He has the audience in the palm of his hand.

And so he unveils his biggest pledge yet. He will “hand £500 back to Scotland’s pensioners”. Which rather begs the question, how long has he been going around nicking money of out OAPs’ purses? And why has he not been stopped? This must be the soft-touch justice system he’s always banging on about.

A few days later, another energetic politician takes to a stage in Edinburgh. Anas Sarwar is determined to not let the haters get him down. Unfortunately for him, those haters are the electorate.

For most of this campaign, the Scottish Labour leader seems to have taken to sticking his fingers in his ears and loudly shouting “LA LA LA” to anyone that dares try to tell him he won’t be first minister. He might have learned that from his boss Keir Starmer, who appears to have deployed a similar tactic whenever Peter Mandelson was mentioned. If you don’t hear the problem, you don’t have to deal with the problem. Until, that is, everything comes crashing down around you.

But Sarwar won’t have to reckon with that for a few weeks yet. And so when asked by a journalist whether his manifesto was anything more than wishful thinking, he insists he’s just “taking a different approach”. He is “giving hope back to people who feel hopeless and making sure we don’t wallow in the despair”. Is he speaking to his party or the country?

The ever-hopeful Scottish Greens launch their manifesto in Glasgow the following day. Co-leader Gillian Mackay leads activists in a less glamourous remake of Play Your Cards Right. She points to Green wins in the last parliament and asks people to imagine what more would be possible with “10 of us…” She pauses. A few in the audience get what she’s going for and yell “higher!” in response. Mackay smiles. “Twelve of us?” “Higher!” comes the reply. “Fifteen of us or maybe even more?” Cheers echo around the room. That would be a big Brucie Bonus.

In the exact same location two days later, John Swinney is on stage to launch his manifesto. Not that the SNP would ever take direction or ideas from the Greens.

Then again, he does say the state would set the price of “essential” food items if he is re-elected as FM. Perhaps when he’s promising that he’s “only just getting started”, he means started with building a Union of Scottish Socialist Republics. Lowering food prices is not normally something he’d be able to do, he accepts, but he believes he can use his “public health powers” to ensure low-cost “bread, milk, cheese, eggs, rice, chicken” are available. Apparently vegetables aren’t considered essential or necessary for public health. Scurvy who?

He also wants to help lower transport bills. He highlights how much it cost people to get to this manifesto launch from Hamilton, from Paisley, from Dumbarton. It is, he says, “too high”. And so the SNP government will cap bus fares to make it cheaper to get to SNP events. It’s good to be a member of the party.

Last (and probably least) was Alex Cole-Hamilton, who has decided to launch his manifesto from a cookery school. He wants to prove he can be an excellent sous chef.

The Scottish Lib Dem leader reveals that he’s not all that into the parliament bit of the job though. “I’m never happier than when I’m knocking doors,” he admits. The man loves an election campaign because it means he can spend all day long pounding the streets. One wonders whether a better career for him would have been a postie.

A vote for the Lib Dems, he continues, is a vote for “someone who will turn up at your door all year round”. Is that a promise or a threat? “We sweat the small stuff,” he says. So, even worse, it’s a sweaty Lib Dem turning up at your door. Who do people have to vote for to avoid Cole-Hamilton coming uninvited to their house?

And what of Reform? Malcolm Offord managed to launch his party’s manifesto much earlier – easy to do when it’s only 20 pages and lacking details that would see them held to account. But then again, that’s probably the point.