Craig Kelly poses with a pallet of fake trillion dollar notes in response to the 2021 budget (Image: AAP/Mick Tsikas)

First fact-check of the day ‘Twas the morning of the budget. Finance Minister Simon “Birmo” Birmingham marked the occasion by eagerly tweeting a photo of Parliament House’s famous Budget Tree, looking lush and resplendent under a glorious blue autumnal sky.

Except it’s glum and overcast in Canberra today. And the Japanese Maple looks threadbare, stripped by a week of wind and drizzle. The leaves have all fallen onto the courtyard. Whether this is a metaphor for today’s budget remains to be seen.

Election watch Much of the pre-budget narrative has coalesced around the unexpected strength of Australia’s economic recovery, and a series of measures generous enough to leave Labor wedged.

Unsurprisingly, that’s led to a return of chatter about an election this year. In The Australian this morning, Simon Benson writes that “talk of a November election [is] back on the cards”. Talking on the ABC, the Nine papers’ David Crowe suggested that was highly unlikely, given Morrison’s own words and the state of the vaccine rollout. Opposition Leader Anthony Albanese reckons an opportunistic prime minister might pull the plug if he thinks he can win. Earlier this year, Morrison was reported to have ruled out an early poll, preferring to have another pre-election budget early next year. Nothing will stop the tea-leaf reading.

Katt-astrophe Canberra is groaning under the weight of a few thousand pairs of RM Williams boots as pollies and their staffers return for the budget. The city’s restaurants are prime pollie-watch location. Last night, an eagle-eyed tipster spotted Bob Katter and entourage at an inner-north Indian joint. They reportedly asked the waiter if they had any dishes that weren’t spicy at all.

It’s raining Neds Frydenberg isn’t the only one splashing the cash around. This morning, rogue independent backbencher Craig Kelly held a press conference with a giant pile of fake $1 trillion notes. He said the point of the whole exercise was to “teach the kids about the debt”.

Upon questioning, Kelly confirmed the notes, which he calls “Neds” after outlaw Ned Kelly, were paid for out of his communications allowance. Which means taxpayers paid for the stunt. Which means that, in a small, insignificant way, Kelly’s big pile of fake cash added to the debt he was trying to preach about.

On a side note, we asked Kelly if he would be joining his conspiracy theorist pal Pete Evans over at Rod Culleton’s Great Australian Party. No such plans from the member for Hughes.