Lazy performances, ugly babies and false sincerity abound in the third film adaptation of Jeff Kinney’s hideously successful series of children’s tales. Though oddly proficient in the realm of physical slapstick, Dog Days falls flat even in the eyes of tiny humans addled with sugar; one shining musical interlude, however, rescues this film from joining the ranks of insults to child-IQ such as Ice Age: Continental Drift.

This is not a film about a kid keeping a diary of the burgers he ate at the Wimpy food restaurant, repeat it is not a film about Wimpy. It is in fact a story of a boy who keeps a diary about his day-to-day wimpiness, a shame really as we were hoping this sequel would chart the rise of the food restaurant time forgot.

A pentagon scrawled in still-warm blood drips on the wall of an abandoned cathedral; demonic prayers are heard as chilling whispers in the night as the Dark Lord is praised. What we feared has come to pass: The Satan Buddies have returned. Oh, wait a mo…