Cardboard

Three identical men sit down.
They recline like patrons of a strip club. They each eat a similar cake. Their haircuts are a variation on a theme. Their clothes cancel each other out, their facial expressions are smart-casual. They speak with one voice, rumbling like a warbling, boring bumblebee. Their shoes are chillaxed. They smell exactly how they look.
These men - these men -
I am indifferent towards them.

A pigeon headbangs past, her front splattered with beautiful tippex-white feathers.
I wonder about her life. She eats, breeds, dies.

Are these men, with their facial hair and clothes, these three men, who made it relatively far in the auditions for an M&S advert, and this pigeon both leading lives without substance? Do these men and this pigeon share the same cardboard soul?
When asked, neither respond positively.