Raunchy ‘Sausage Party’ is frankly hilarious

“Sausage Party” is so wrong, so go-for-broke insane, existing words aren’t enough to describe it.

Shockrageous comes close. As does horristurbing.

It’s also the hardest I’ve laughed in a movie theater — as well as the guiltiest I’ve felt for doing so — since 2012’s “Ted.”

Set in Shopwell’s supermarket, the R-rated animated tale follows a sausage named Frank (voiced by Seth Rogen) whose package is placed on a shelf next to his true love, a shapely bun named Brenda (Kristen Wiig).

Shopwell’s is one of the happiest places on Earth, as the various products begin each day singing their praises to the gods (aka the shoppers) who’ll deliver them to the promised land.

Frank and Brenda just want to get to that great beyond so he can finally get inside her.

But when a bottle of honey mustard (Danny McBride) is chosen, then returned in exchange for a jar of regular mustard, he comes back traumatized and ranting about the terrors of the outside world.

There is no promised land, he rails. No gods. Through those Shopwell’s doors is a world of unspeakable terror.

The rest of the supermarket chalks this up to the ravings of a lunatic. But Frank is at least skeptical enough to want to investigate the belief system he’s been fed all his life.

So when Frank is separated from the rest of his pack — including fellow sausages voiced by Jonah Hill and Michael Cera — he and Brenda, who leaves her pack to help him, set off to return home to their display.

They’re joined on an adventure throughout the various ethnic aisles at Shopwell’s by a bagel named Sammy (Edward Norton) and a Middle Eastern lavash (David Krumholtz) who are constantly at war over the state of their homeland, err, aisle.

Based on sheer cleverness, it’s a bit like the journey of Joy and Sadness in “Inside Out” — if that movie’s creators had been repeatedly dropped on their heads as babies.

“Sausage Party” is an equal opportunity offender with an almost Mel Brooks-ian level of political incorrectness.

The wise bottle of booze is an Indian chief named Firewater (Bill Hader). His African-American buddy, Grits (Craig Robinson), can’t wait to get high, but lands a great “In the Heat of the Night” reference: “They call me Mr. Grits.” There’s a sexy, spicy taco (Salma Hayek). The bagel is, of course, quite nebbishy. The lavash just wants his 77 bottles of extra virgin olive oil. And sauerkraut sings about hoping to “exterminate the juice.”

Adding to the movie’s subversiveness, that song is co-written by Alan Menken, an Oscar winner for his work on “Beauty and the Beast,” “Aladdin” and “The Little Mermaid.”

In any movie, even one as bonkers as “Sausage Party,” there has to be a villain. In this case, it’s a real douche. No, seriously, it’s a feminine hygiene product (Nick Kroll).

Directed by Conrad Vernon (“Shrek 2”) and Greg Tiernan (“Thomas and Friends”) from a script by “The Night Before” team of Kyle Hunter and Ariel Shaffir, as well as Rogen and his writing partner Evan Goldberg, “Sausage Party” is pretty thin on plot. It’s basically just Frank’s quest to learn the truth — that these “gods” will slice, dice and consume them all — and share it with the masses.

But what it lacks in story, “Sausage Party” more than makes up for in creativity — and raunchiness.

This isn’t a movie for the easily offended, the somewhat easily offended or even the possibly offended.

It’s an assault on your comedic senses that rarely lets up.

You won’t want to eat for a while after leaving “Sausage Party,” but not because you’ll be sympathetic to the anthropomorphized food.

Your stomach simply will be too sore from laughing.

Contact Christopher Lawrence at clawrence@reviewjournal.com. On Twitter: @life_onthecouch