Pulling Rank

My flight was being served by an obviously gay flight attendant, who
seemed to put everyone in a good mood as he served us food and drinks.

As the plane prepared to descend, he came swishing down the aisle and
told us that "Captain Marvey has asked me to announce that he'll be
landing the big scary plane shortly, so lovely people, if you could put
your trays up, that would be super."

On his trip back up the aisle, he noticed this well-dressed and rather
Arabic-looking woman hadn't moved a muscle. "Perhaps you didn't hear me
over those big brute engines, but I asked you to raise your trayzy-poo,
so the main man can pit! ty-pat us on the ground."

She calmly turned her head and said, "In my country, I am called a
Princess and I take orders from no one."

To which (I swear) the flight attendant replied, without missing a beat,
"Well, sweet-cheeks, in my country I'm called a queen, so I outrank
you."

"Tray up, bitch."