Ask a room full of children and a room full of college stoners about their thoughts on SpongeBob SquarePants, and it’d be hard to decide which group would be more excited. Over the seemingly innocent Nickelodeon cartoon’s 16 years of existence, its blend of childish giddiness, whip-fast references, meta jokes and colorfully kooky non sequiturs has landed alongside Fruit Roll-Ups and naps in the middle section of a Venn diagram of things kids and cannabis users can equally love. 

That’s certainly the case with the chatty cleaning device’s delightfully wackadoodle second big screen trip, "The SpongeBob Movie: Sponge Out of Water." How else do you explain a sequence where SpongeBob and Plankton make a time machine from a photo booth in a German taqueria and visit a Pink Floyd-esque triangle in space run by a British dolphin who shoots lasers out its blowhole and watches over Jupiter and Saturn? Children may find that, and the rest of the movie, enjoyably silly. For adults – especially those in the right, ahem, mindset – it’s freaking inspired.

Even the plot is a burger-related quest akin to an animated, kid-friendly "Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle" riff. Things are normal down in lovely Bikini Bottom when suddenly the coveted Krabby Patty formula vanishes in a poof, sending SpongeBob’s under-the-sea home over the edge. The apocalypse breaks out ("I hope you like leather," quips one character), as well as a corresponding angry mob convinced old nemesis Plankton is behind the thievery.

The big-hearted and cotton candy-brained – literally – SpongeBob, however, believes otherwise. While the rest of the town rages into extinction, Plankton reluctantly teams up with his giggly sponge rival to find the formula and clear his name. Their journey not only takes them into the fourth dimension of time and space – cue the laser-spouting dolphin timelord – but into the third dimension, hopping on dry land to hunt down the culprit: a pirate (Antonio Banderas) hoping to open up a food truck with the secret recipe and an old storybook that alters reality all meta-like.

Over the course of what feels like essentially an extended 90-minute episode, "The SpongeBob Movie" casually tosses around the usual kid tested, mother approved lessons about teamwork (or, as the self-serving Plankton keeps pronouncing it, TMwork), taught with the title character’s usual, easily appreciated blithe sweetness.

But really, that’s about as close to sanity as this screwball, 11-years-late animated sequel gets. A journey into the folds of SpongeBob’s brain results in Plankton puking up a rainbow who calls him father. The time machine summons a Squidwardsaurus Rex, causing havoc – only to calmly fall into becoming a casual background player, even attempting to eat a Krabby Patty with his little dino arms. And then there’s Patrick the starfish, delivering some mouth-breathing dimness for our laughing pleasure.

The movie hurls around bizarro jokes and puns at a blazingly manic clip, from the childishly stupid to the sublimely ridiculous, just-on-the-right-side-of-immature giggly butt and poop related humor to sharply clever visual gags. Better yet, most of them manage to hit their mark and snag a laugh. And if one doesn’t, it’s a guarantee a new absurd gag isn’t far behind.

Of course, much of the movie’s success goes to the wild and wacky script, developed by Glenn Berger and Jonathan Aibel. But the quiet MVP, earning a mighty assist for bringing much of its winning humor to vivid life, is the now almost extinct hand-drawn animation. With so many similar looking computer animated features poured into theaters every year, it’s easy to forget how free and expressive hand-drawn animation can look and feel. Every joke and slapstick moment comes to bright, goofy, crisp yet fluid life, regardless of precise physics or perfectly rendered light. It ends up being the perfect for the movie’s mix of non-stop looniness and journeys into trippy mind-bending.

In fact, when "Sponge Out of Water" jumps onto land for its much advertised live-action, 3D animated chunk (which only comes into play for the final act), it’s almost disappointing to ditch the bright and colorful world of the hand-drawn footage for blandly shot everyday life. It’s not for lack of effort. Banderas hams it up to crazed levels as the foodie pirate, and live-action director Mike Mitchell attempts to give it the same cartoonish energy, like during a cotton candy fueled trip around the world (of postcards). But real life just can’t capture the same free-flowing, imaginative mania – and the director of "Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chipwrecked" isn’t likely the guy to do it.

Then again, the live-action stuff still features a chase between a giant, peanut-shooting squirrel and a pirate food truck, as well as a goofy chorus of seagulls, one of which loses all his feathers and ashamedly hails a cab to drive him back into the ocean. So the hilarious insanity of the first hour isn’t horribly diminished. You’ll still leave the theater with a giggly, smiling, mind-boggling high – whether assisted by sugar or something a bit more potent.