President Reagan:

WELCOME TO our national Christmas celebration. When I push this button, the Christmas tree on the Ellipse will light up. (What's that, general, you say I've got the wrong button?) Our spectacle tonight includes a special treat -- Trickle the Trojan Elephant and his trainer, David Stockman. Now, to start the festivities, we present the Joint Lobbying Chorus of the National Association of Manufacturers and the U.S. Chamber of Commerce bringing us their own interpretation of "America the Beautiful."

Chorus Oh beautiful for amber skies, For waves of acid rain, For purple-hued particulate From Oregon to Maine. We've sown thine aquifers with lead, Thy lakes with mercury, Remembering that our fathers bled For cost efficiency. Our might defends the people's right To breathe the pure exhaust, And sanctifies the spinners' right To lungs with lint embossed; The children's right -- our sacred trust -- To watch our TV mush So they may start their days all bright With sugared breakfast slush. Then haste to spread reactor waste Across the sleeping land; Raise Three Mile Islands up the wind, So safe, so right, so grand. Heed not the mutants' hollow stares, The cranks' protesting cries -- We'll build a land of runts and grunts Beneath these sallow skies.

President Thank you, friends, for that cheering prospect. Now, here is the Glee Club of the National Rifle Association bringing us a new Christmas song written for this occasion, "The Bazooka Waltz."

Glee Club Under the stars from the Pole to the Isthmus Dear little children are dreaming of Christmas; What will bedazzle them under the tree? -- Nice bright bazookas, now waltz one, two, three ... Say what you will, it is people who kill, Not bazookas, not bazookas; Boys won't go wrong if they're jollied along With bazookas, sweet bazookas. Hark, on the crystal air something is zinging, Hark to the rescue squads cheerily winging; Cherubs above crooning "Joy, Hallelujah!" BAM! "What a pity, there goes little Julia." Never mind, dear ones, it's all constitutional -- You have your rights though you're still Lilliputional. So blaze away on this jolly day And let nothing -- BAM-BAM -- you dismay. Ka-BOOM!

President As I promised you, we now present the first public appearance of Trickle the Trojan Elephant together with our most Candid Commentator, David Stockman.

Trickle (As a figure emerges from its underbelly) The Secretary of State, Alexander Haig.

Stockman$ Half a league, half a league, what a commander! Into the spectrum of Reds strode Alexander. Oh what a charge he made, foot in the bucket -- (Why can't some kindly aide help him to shuck it?). Sniped at from White House walls -- who's that guerrilla? Grazing Charybdis, he clunks into Scylla. His not to reason why Things go so far awry Raising a hue and cry, Blowing his dander. Hear his exordium, Pointing his swordium: "Onward to Gordium!"-- Go, Alexander!

Trickle The Secretary of Defense, Caspar Weinberger.

Stockman It was a lively morning, Our Caspar and his spooks Were juggling at the Pentagon His missiles tipped with nukes. "'Twill scare the Awesome Red," quoth he, "And win a famous victory." Across the ocean Hans and Fritz And little Wilhelmine Heard echoes of our Caspar's game And turned pistachio green. So did he fright the Awesome Red? -- Ach no, he scared our friends instead.

Trickle The Chairman of the Federal Reserve Board, Paul Volcker.

Stockman Hark to the merriment down at the Fed -- They've got half the country dead-broke or in bed. The savings and loans have their backs to the wall; "It's just what we hoped for," says X-Percent Paul. The bread lines thread out from Detroit to the Loop; "So chummy," says Paul, "and they serve such good soup." The markets for bonds are as sick as the thrifts; "But shrinks and receivers are working three shifts." The farmers are reaping their writs of foreclosure; "It's healthy," says Paul, "if they keep their composure." So do keep your heads if you can't keep your shirts; "Remember," Paul counsels, "it's good if it hurts." Then laugh while you may in this season of cheer For he'll pour on some more in the happy new year.

President Great fellow, Paul Volcker. He reminds me of that wonderful doctor who cured George Washington's fever by bleeding him.

Trickle Our champion at the United Nations, Ambassador Jeane Kirkpatrick.

Stockman She wandered gaily as a shroud Among the hollow-cheeked Latinos; In every land she spied a crowd Of mothers bowed and limp bambinos. Ten thousand saw she at a glance And men so thin they'd slipped their pants And did she then in pity cry, "Send milk and cheese and corn and wheat And tools and seeds to fructify The earth so these dear souls may eat, And breeding stock and cocks and pullets?" -- Oh no, she turned and brightly said, "Let 'em eat bullets."

President Thank you, David. That's enough candor for one year. Finally, we have a happy surprise. When I push this button (Okay, general?), the floodlights will go on outside the White House and everyone will be able to see Nancy's Christmas gift to the nation -- a picture window in the Lincoln bedroom. Now, a word of warning: If the Santa Claus on your roof looks like Col. Qaddafi, tempt him down with some jellybeans and call the Immigration Service. Good night and good luck in the new year.