Surely the nadir of the rehash genre, a string of unconnected party pieces by a cast whose world weariness would imply that they know exactly how cynical this whole venture has become. With Guttenberg long gone and his space duly filled by a lookalike cutie, the gang are hot on the trail of a mastermind villain knee-deep in burglary and real estate fraud. One by one, the scriptwriters manoeuvre each wacky funster into position to perform his or her zany turn. The finest moment features a rap performed by three 'dudes' who have clearly recorded the vocals a cappella, over which the Neanderthals in post-production have dubbed some backing music. The fact that said music is in a different time signature to the rapping hasn't occurred to anyone, so we are treated to a surrealist fusion of rap and morse code: the only arresting moment in a mind-numbingly tedious film.