A Brit, an Irishman and an effeminate Guatemalan prince walk into a bad movie directed by Ross Geller from “Friends,” the dopey nice guy who asks permission before he gets a pity kiss.

Simon Pegg, Dylan Moran and Hank Azaria deserve far better than “Run, Fatboy, Run” (2007, rated PG-13), directed by David Schwimmer, who will henceforth be known just as Ross.

Pegg and Moran have worked together before smashingly in “Shaun of the Dead,” and in their own rights, Pegg as co-creator of the brilliant “Spaced,” (which did for Twiglets what earlier British comedy “The Young Ones” did for lentils. Which is to say, not much over here, but you should buy their boxed sets anyway) and Moran in “Black Books,” which is as good a sitcom set in a bookstore as “Stacked” (that’s the American one with Pam Anderson) is bad at being a sitcom set in a bookstore. Hank Azaria’s best live-action performance may be the mincey-yet-regal Agador Spartacus in “The Birdcage,” (go ahead, ask him what Guatemalan Peasant Soup is) but he’s best known as Moe, Chief Wiggum and Apu from “The Simpsons.”

These three gentlemen are current comedy gold. In this movie, they are the shiny wrapping on what turns out to be nasty, stale chocolate and not actual doubloons.

Surely you’ve seen “Fatboy“‘s plot before. Last time I saw it, I was 10 and dragging my newly divorced father to see “All I Want For Christmas,” a story about two feisty kids who come up with a wacky

plot to get their divorcing parents to re-discover love with each other (sorry, Dad). The so-called “fatboy,” Pegg, ditched his pregnant fiancee at the altar and five years later, regrets it once she appears

to be about to marry Azaria, the successful — but, of course, secretly evil and mean to the kid — hedge fund manager. If she married him, she and their son will be whisked from London to Chiacago! Forever!

The only way to prove to the girl he ran out on that he’s decent? Join in on Azaria’s hobby, running marathons.

Azaria can play a piggy cop, a Calcutta valedictorian and a suicidal bar-owner and make the story of a Central American shaman and a high priestess who moved to New Jersey come out sounding like a Valley Girl voiceover from “Clueless.” Why, then, did Ross give him the role of cocky, successful boyfriend whose most edgy character note is that he moisturizes? (And why did Pegg and Michael Ian Black write it that way?)

It’s not funny for a child actor to talk, feigning naivete, about how mom and her new boyfriend were up all night “jumping on the bed.” It’s not funny for Pegg to have a first-time-runner’s blister that needs to

be lanced by Moran and ends up splashing all over Moran’s face. And you know when the last time someone used the line “I thought ruining one day would be better than ruining your whole life” line? It was Kurt Cobain, in his suicide note, essentially. I bet daughter Frances Bean can really sympathize. (That was sarcasm.)

I actually thought “Friends” had a staff of very fine writers, even if it, overall, did give the impression that one could pay the bills on one’s own apartment by working one single, regular, non-drug or pornography-related job. I used “Friends“‘s “gray couch” monologue as an e-mail sig for many months, long ago. But Ross should not be in charge of directing movies. And you should not waste your time on “Fatboy” or on any boy who asks permission before he kisses you. If you want comedy, watch “Spaced” or “Black Books” (they’re mostly free online). And if you’re that boy who’s thinking about asking permission to kiss that girl, just kiss her for Pete’s sake, already.