GOVERNMENT officials watched horrified as several members marched into the Legco chamber making bizarre thrusting motions with parts of their bodies as if they were auditioning for Monty Python's Ministry of Funny Walks. Then Mrs Elsie Tu waddled into the chamber flapping her arms. She flapped pointedly in the direction of the government benches, looking rather like Sesame Street 's Big Bird in a skirt and pearls. Government officials politely nodded and smiled back at her, but you could see the pity in their eyes. Unbeknownst to officials, the reason for this behaviour was that members had been doing Legco Aerobics around the back in Conference Room A. This consisted of gruelling exercises such as slumping forwards, slumping backwards, leaning to one side and flexing your feet. ''If only there was a need for Hongkong to have an Olympic Sleeping Team,'' said an observer peeking through the doorway. On his way out of the aerobics chamber, Legco President John Swaine whispered confidentially: ''Actually, I do the foot exercise all the time.'' It is easy to believe that while his upper body is behaving in a rigid, seemly manner during sittings, his lower limbs are performing aerobic twirls. Talking of muscle, it was time for Mrs Peggy Lambo, upholder of law and order, to come down heavily on unruly elements. She demanded to know what the Government was doing about the deteriorating situation in Hongkong's public housing estates. Replying for the Government, Tony Eason delivered an amazing statistic. The administration had discovered that there was a lot less crime in public estates than in Hongkong as a whole. Hongkong's overall crime rates were three times as high as the rates in government housing. While members digested this remarkable fact, Zachary Wong wanted to know about crime in that other infamous cauldron of evil: the Vietnamese camps. ''In terms of overall crime, the Vietnamese camps have a lower rate than the rest of Hongkong,'' said Ken Woodhouse, Acting Secretary for Security. Legislators reeled at the picture being painted by the administration. The public estates and Vietnamese camps were, in effect, hot-beds of blameless morality and high principle. It was in the posh bits of Hongkong that tycoons and bishops would mug you for 50 cents. Then K. K. Fung wanted straight answers from the Financial Secretary to two tough questions. Did he know what right of abode members of the Exchange Fund Advisory Committee had, and was there any localisation policy for the group? Hamish Macleod stood up. ''The answer to both parts of the question is: No, sir.'' He sat down. Mr Fung leapt up and objected strongly: ''Does he mean he doesn't know, or does he mean that he doesn't want to tell me?'' ''I think my answer was entirely clear,'' said Mr Macleod. Mr Fung objected a second time, and Mr Macleod again replied: ''Again I must say that my answer was entirely clear.'' The Financial Secretary explained that he does not ask people questions such as what passports they possess. ''I don't even have that knowledge of Mr Fung,'' said Mr Macleod, who clearly would have personally financed a passport to Kyrgyzstan for the yo-yo legislator without hesitation. The administration had another remarkable factoid up its sleeve. One hundred and twenty-five people had fallen off Mass Transit Railway platforms on to the tracks in the past five years. They were interviewed, and not one of them had blamed overcrowding on the platforms. This seemed mysterious, but the Government was taking action. ''Under-platform lighting is being provided,'' said Acting Secretary for Transport John Telford. At least they will be comfortable down there, and can do some Legco Aerobics while waiting to be rescued.