The thing is, the Australian public loved The Katering Show and Get Krackin’. A Katering Show episode about the Thermomix went viral and the series, which was then online, was picked up for a second season by the ABC, which then gave the green light to Get Krackin’.

It was quickly labelled as “must-see TV” and its take-no-prisoners skewering of breakfast TV went on to tackle everything from the treatment of women on TV to the lack of Indigenous representation. It was thrilling to watch, as their comedy lurched from the sublime to the ridiculous to white-hot anger. And in a truly meta moment, Get Krackin’ even beat the one-time king of breakfast television, Today, in the ratings.

“I don’t think we’d ever not go back on telly,” says McCartney. “We’d certainly never do Get Krackin’ again. We just thought our experiences - we’re two white ladies, sort of 40ish - you know, that’s enough from us.

“We felt really lucky and grateful to be able to create a stage for that sort of stuff and bringing other people in, but who cares what we think.”

McLennan adds: “And our hair couldn’t cope with any more styling. It was about to snap off.”

Enter the podcast with penguins. Slushy, named after kitchen duty on the Australian Antarctic base, is a comedy that follows the hopeless Maya (Pallavi Sharda) after she scams her way into the Adelie penguin program at Bennett Station. As well as writing the eight-part series, McLennan and McCartney voice supporting roles, including the artist-in-residence Embeth (loosely based on McCartney’s real-life foiled dream of becoming an artist-in-residence in Antarctica), with Dilruk Jayasinha, Greg Larsen, Shaun Micallef, Zoe Coombs Marr, Eddie Perfect and Anne Edmonds also pitching in.

Slushy was an idea the pair had been throwing around before they broke through with The Katering Show, even going so far as pitching it as a series while on a trip to the US. “We just had this as a little idea that we wanted to talk about,” says McCartney. “And in order to talk about it, you have to get a budget made for it. So we got a producer friend of ours to do a budget for it as a live action show …”

McLennan jumps in: “This is the caveat: the show’s great and you can’t put a price on it, but we did put a price on it, and I think it was 54 million pounds.”

It’s safe to say a rethink was swiftly in order.

“It’d be a hard sell,” says McLennan.

Adds McCartney: “After that, we were wondering what format would suit it best. And it occurred to us that the sound of wind or the sound of penguins cost much less than seeing the penguins.”

Again, enter the penguins, and the Australian Antarctic Division, who put them in touch with people who worked on Australia’s Antarctic bases (there are four reserach stations: Mawson, Davis and Casey in Antarctica, plus Macquarie Island in the sub-Antarctic).

“It’s like a big school camp,” says McCartney of the stations, which are occupied year-round by scientists and support staff. “Everyone is there for such noble means. The Antarctic Treaty says it has to be a place of scientific endeavour, so people are there to help scientists. And they all seem quite bonded by a common goal and it’s just really, really beautiful.

“And all our prickles were blown away the moment the penguin biologist sent us a picture of a box full of little penguin chicks that she was tagging.”

All were keen to share their stories, and when pressed, the biggest irritants they could name were someone taking the wrong boots, to over-running the two-minute shower rule and eating too much bacon.

“You can’t eat the bacon,” says McCartney. “If you eat all the bacon, the tradies get so cross.”

Adds McLennan: “That was the level of tension and conflict they’re all playing with. And we’re like, ‘OK, we need to really reimagine this.”

So what was originally planned as a climate change comedy of sorts - “it’s hard to make data around climate change funny in an audio setting,” says McLennan - soon became a fish-out-of-water workplace comedy.

“We were never going to make fun of scientists,” says McCartney. “Honestly, they are the best people in the world. Literally, the only person we’re going to make fun of is the artist-in-residence and the person who is a bit of a stickler for rules.

“We fell in love with Antarctica and with the culture on the stations, and with all the people we spoke to. And we’re like, ‘Oh, we have to do right by them.’ So we devoted an entire episode to shitting on the ice.”

And weeing in a drum. That was McLennan’s biggest revelation from their conversations with station crew.

“If you’re out in the field hut, you have to wee into a Shewee-type thing,” she says. “And you have to put that into a big drum. And because they have a nothing-left-behind policy, you have to take that [drum] back to base. So you have to cart your big tub of wee and if it’s a bit too full, you have to chip it. So people will get piss chips in their [faces].”

For McCartney, though, one of the biggest thrills came at the photo shoot to go with this story, where they got to go on the ice with the King and Gentoo penguins at SEA LIFE Melbourne Aquarium.

“Luckily, we didn’t cry because we’re both on anxiety medication that blocks all our feelings,” she says, as McLennan cackles in agreement. “It was so, so joyful.”

Slushy is released on Audible on May 11.