WHAT are the great equalisers of social class? Health, certainly. Education can go some way to bridge the divide. And awareness.

But how about a panic room? What if three people were trapped in a panic room in Westminster? Now crank the stakes up a little; what would happen if those people happen to be the Prime Minister, his wife – who also happens to be the Health Secretary, and a big Scottish guy with a Hoover?

That’s the setting point for this week’s Oran Mor play in which Paul Thomas Clark appears in The Biscuit, Donald Mcleary’s new work. “I play Colin, a cleaner,” says Clark. “And I find myself in this little room with the Prime Minister (Stephen Clyde) and the Health Secretary. (Shonagh Price). And it all kicks off from there.”

As a series of explosions rock the outside of the shelter the audience come to wonder if perhaps the best person to lead them through the crises is not the intellectual in the pin striped suit, but the bloke with the vacuum cleaner.

The focal point of the play is the solo past-its-sell-by Wagon Wheel biscuit. It’s the only source of food. And to control the Wagon Wheel is to control the world. Or at least that little world.

Yet, while the play reveals a little power struggle, it’s not a political polemic. “It’s not meant to be taken too seriously,” says the actor, grinning. “We’re not trying to drive a message home, or anything. It’s more about a class comedy, where you have two different classes chomping at the bit to get one over on the other.

“But it’s an adventure. We get see how they came to be in this place, and what they do when the panic sets in. What we also learn is the PM can’t cope with this. He’s supposed to be giving a keynote speech this same night. Meanwhile, Colin could really care less. He doesn’t need to be anywhere else.”

We also get to see into the power dynamic of a married couple, who happen to be running the country. But who holds the power in the relationship between Ellis Gregory and his wife, Sam? “Meantime, Colin grins as he notices the jumper that is their relationship has come loose and he mischievously gives it a little tug.

“But what makes the play really interesting is that the politicians find themselves outside of their own little bubble.” He adds, smiling; “Now, they are in Colin’s bubble. And they don’t like that feeling one little bit.”

Paul Thomas Clark is so excited about his first appearance in Oran Mor he’s as ready to explode as a heavy-shaken Irn Bru bottle, the ads for which he once appeared on TV. Since graduating from drama college Clark has appeared in several short films but this is his first time on the professional boards.

“I just live the idea of getting out there and performing,” he says in hugely animated voice. “My family is full of performers. Not in a professional sense, but there is always one of us who will be the first to get up at parties. I was always the boy who would do impressions at parties. I loved it.”

Conversation suggests a real sensitiivity – but Clark is certainly no wallflower, the sort you would find on his own in the corner at a party? “The only time you will see me at a corner in a party is if I have my guitar in my hand, Usually, I’m in the middle of the floor, dancing.”

He adds, smiling, anticipating the next question; “It’s not that I crave attention. It’s more that attention seems to come to me. I don’t need to go out of my way to play the clown. I like to make people laugh and they gravitate towards that.”

Clark’s voice becomes serious again. “I feel this part is a great chance for me. I came into the audition not thinking about landing the part, but playing the part. I felt I could be a Colin.”

His ambition is precise. But growing up in Viewpark, Uddingston, did he have any professional role models to show him the way? “Not really,” he says. “But I know what I want to achieve. And what I also know is that I’m not suited to working in an office or in a factory. I’ve tried all of that during stints when I was college. My family had no money so I had to do my bit, and that often meant working in a call centre.”

He adds, smiling; “I know I need to work hard at this career. I know I need to get my hands out my pockets and focus on exactly that. I need to be selfish. But in a good way.”

The Biscuit, Oran Mor, Glasgow, until Saturday.