Steve Pink's sequel is like sliding into the lukewarm, cloudy waters of a poorly maintained hot tub, barely bubbling with flat jokes. The deeply unfunny Rob Corddry and the one-note Craig Robinson reprise their roles, with help from Clark Duke and Adam Scott. (In a film rife with gay-panic, the "humiliating" man-skirt Scott wears is adorable. Get with 2015, guys!) There's a teeny tiny plot that doesn't matter, because the film is just a series of lazily conceived set pieces designed to re-convince your inner 8-year-old that everything about the genital area is inherently funny. Just turn off the bubbles and go home.
