Beca:
Okay, we didn’t come here to start something with you guys. We just wanted to check you out. You know, for when we go to the Worlds. And kick your ass.
Fat Amy:
Oooh! Get it, girl.
Kommissar:
You? You are the kicker of ass? But you are so tiny. Like an elf. Or is it a sprite? Fairy? What is the word I mean?
Pieter Krämer:
Troll.
Kommissar:
That’s it. You are like a troll.
Beca:
Well you... are... physically flawless. But that doesn’t mean I like you.
Chloe:
We are not scared about the Worlds because when The Bellas hit the stage we are going to blow minds.
Pieter Krämer:
Blow minds? With what? More of Flabby Abby's baby chute?
Fat Amy:
That's not my name.
Pieter Krämer:
I don't know your name. Could be anything. Obese Denise. Inflexible Tina. Lazy Susan...
Fat Amy:
My name is Fat Amy, un I eat krauts like you for lunch.
Pieter Krämer:
Your team is like, a, how do you say that? A heated mess. You know, a mess where heat is applied to it so what once was a little messy is now even messier.
Kommissar:
Darlings, please take my advice. Don’t try to beat us. You can’t. We are the best. I must go and rest my neck. It is sore from looking down on you.
Beca:
Okay! Just because you are making me very sexually confused does mean that you are intimidating. We got a chip on our shoulder and nothing to lose. And we’re not backing down from anyone. Aca Wiedersehen, bitches. Aw, what’s happening to me? Why am I using my hands so much?
