Around the time Horrible Bosses 2 trots out that old joke about the toothbrush—you know the one, where the disgruntled maid-janitor-servant sticks the dental object where the sun don’t shine—you realize how far the filmmakers are reaching for the stupid gags here.

Other lowlights include one of the characters having the Twitter handle @phatballlz and Jennifer Aniston’s sex addict perkily offering “You can go on me!” when someone announces it’s time for Number 2. It all adds up to one thing: a thrown-together, cynical excuse for a sequel that’s not necessarily filthier than the mildly amusing original, but is certainly stupider.

Too bad, because director Sean Anders has a more-than-capable cast at hand, with the trio of the chihuahua-wired Dale (Charlie Day), the clueless puppy-dog Kurt (Jason Sudeikis), and the drier-than-choke-cherries Nick (Jason Bateman) at the centre. They’re clearly having a great time together, but the gags are lame and they mostly just talk over one another. Cameos by stars from the original, including Jamie Foxx and Kevin Spacey, are token at best.

Part of what 2011’s HB had going for it was that 90 percent of America was suffering in gruelling, postrecession workplaces and could feel some mild buzz from three bumbling idiots trying to off their sadistic bosses. Here, the still-hapless trio work for themselves, having invented a silly gadget called the Shower Buddy that shoots shampoo out of the shower head as well as water. Its only purpose, apparently, is to allow a scene where Sudeikis and Day accidentally appear to suck each other off on live television—at length, in multiple positions. But we digress.

The “horrible bosses” are played by Christoph Waltz, hopelessly wasted as a generic capitalist who invests in their product, and his spoiled-brat son, Rex (tackled with menacing glee by Chris Pine). The contrived, poorly thrown-together story finds the Shower Buddy guys planning to kidnap Rex for a ransom.

But for some reason the saddest case here is poor Aniston, made all the more pathetic because she so gamely throws herself into her role as a perpetual sexual harasser. The more she says, whether it’s bragging about “collecting cocks” or getting hot over “turning” gay men, the more grating—and unshocking—her character becomes. At least, though, she’s spared the toothbrush scene. Unlike us.