Russell sits in his chair. He looks around, whistling, and takes a sip out of his coffee. He smacks his lips a couple of times, and looks confused. He points his finger into the air, before flying it around like an aeroplane, and bringing it down on his intercom button.
PA TO MR RUSSELL T DAVIES
Yes, sir?
RUSSELL T DAVIES
Oh, thank you Jenny. I don’t mean to be a bother, but this coffee… is it gay? It’s just that I asked for gay coffee. And this coffee… well, I can’t tell what it is, to be honest.
PA TO MR RUSSELL T DAVIES
It’s the gayest I could find. The problem is that coffee doesn’t really have a sexuality, sir.
RUSSELL T DAVIES
Doesn’t it? How tedious. In that case, just pop it into an anus and I’ll drink it from a straw.
PA TO MR RUSSELL T DAVIES
Right away, Mr Davies.
Russell whistles happily to himself. A flicker of concern shows on his face, and he presses the intercom button again, this time a little more urgently.
RUSSELL T DAVIES
Jenny?
PA TO MR RUSSELL T DAVIES
Yes, Mr Davies?
RUSSELL T DAVIES
You will make sure that’s a male anus, won’t you?
PA TO MR RUSSELL T DAVIES
Of course, sir.
RUSSELL T DAVIES
Lovely, thanks.
Russell T Davies pats his head and rubs his tummy at the same time, laughing to himself. He is the happiest man in the world.