Scene: A suburban street, one p.m. Two overall-clad men are sitting in the cabin of their truck, eating Four 'n' Twenty Pies. Through the window of a nearby restaurant, the workmen are watching a couple of businessmen eat a fancy meal. The stage is set for some good ol' culinary class warfare.
Workman 1 (nodding in the direction of the restaurant): Do ya reckon those blokes know what they're missing.
Workman 2 (wiping tomato sauce from his lip with his sleeve): They wouldn't have a bloody clue.
W1: Yeah, they're sitting there in their imported suits eating that expensive meal, prepared by a trained chef from the finest ingredients, served with what looks like a particularly fine white wine by obsequious waiters who desire nothing more than the complete satisfaction of each and every diner and are willing to do anything, up to and including oral sex, to make that happen. I mean, call that living?
W2: Not in my book, cobber.
W1: Meanwhile, we're sitting out here, tucking into these revolting pastry shells filled with preservatives and offal, smothered with tomato sauce in a desperate bid to make them palatable, pausing every few seconds to swig from plastic bottles of Coke to wash the taste of pig intestine from our mouths.
W2: Wouldn't be dead for quids!
W1: And don't you just love the subtext of this little tableau: that there is something inherently honourable about being an average Joe with no real hopes or dreams, not merely content with his lot, but openly disparaging of those who have, or desire, more from life?
W2: Didja see the footy on the weekend? Cor, bloody good stuff!
W1: Not to mention the irony that this campaign was probably created by some guys in suits not dissimilar to the objects of our proud scorn, who look like they're moving onto dessert and another bottle of plonk, the bastards.
W2: Ya want a Choc Wedge from the milk bar or sumfin?
W1: It's all part of being an "ordinary Australian". You not only watch shitty tv shows, listen to predictable radio stations, and vote for terrible governments, you are goaded into being proud of it! Your largely self-imposed limitations become virtues and there is little need to look beyond your own prejudices for guidance.
W2: Fwoar! Check the tits on her!
W1: It makes living in Australia feel pretty futile, sometimes.
W2 (finishes his pie, belches loudly): Too right - best country in the world, mate!