My flight was being served by an

 obviously gay flight attendant, who

 did a great job at serving everyone

 drinks and food. He ensured

 everyone was having an enjoyable

 flight, and I saw no complaints.

As the plane prepared to descend,

 he walked down the aisle and

 relayed directions from the captain

 of the plane.

“Captain Harry has asked me to

 announce that he’ll be landing the

 big scary plane shortly, so lovely

 people, if you could just put your

 trays up, that would be super.”

On his trip back up the aisle, he

 noticed this well-dressed Arabic

 woman who had not followed

 directions. Her tray was completely

 down.

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me over

 those big brute engines when I

 asked you to raise your trazy-poo,

 so the main man can pitty-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 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, B****!”