"We are Das Sound Machine," a blonde woman's stoic face appeared on the screens above the stage, flickering from time to time in what was clearly some kind of high art statement.
The woman continued robotically: "A German collective operating in concert to create sonic mastery," A collective? Not even the Treblemakers had egos at this level. "What better way to celebrate automotive perfection?" the woman asked, sounding somehow both bored and sincere. She glitched out, leaving only smoke and lights on the stage.
Several men stalked out , singing with both strain and extreme precision. Beca watched them, unconcerned.
Then the perc dropped. Lilly was good at tonal perc, but these Germans took it to another level. Some of the smoke on the side cleared, revealing the muscular blond man who was producing these insane sounds. Beca's eyes flicked back and forth between the perc and the tall man in the mesh shirt who had begun singing the solo.
Many more Germans poured onstage, the last of whom was the blonde woman from the video, who came in on a half-screamed "come on!" Moving robotically across the stage, she began singing with the tall soloist. Beca's jaw fell open slightly at her tone and precision.
It was clear from the chemistry between the two leads that this was a a tight-knit, well-practiced group. Could the Bellas really take them on? For the first time in her a cappella career (oh god, that sounded so queerballs), Beca was concerned that she and her girls might lose.
All of Das Sound Machine moved together like falling puppets, and Beca looked around at the other Bellas. Chloe seemed paler than normal. Fat Amy's mouth was hanging open. Jessica and Ashley were holding onto each other, eyes wide. Lilly was muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "I'm a trained assassin." Beca looked back at their rivals.
DSM finished strong and ignored the thunderous applause, choosing to march off stage rather than bow. Beca sat with her shock.
Das Sound Machine strutted up to the Bellas, the male and female leads in front.
"Barden Bellas," the blonde addressed the group, almost pleasantly, and reached her hand out. The male lead immediately and dutifully gave her a small, fluffy white towel. "You came here to see us?" The blonde began dabbing at non-existent sweat on her neck. "Is it because you are…" she trailed off as she moved her gaze from one side to the other, pretending to be deep in thought "what do the American kids say…" she lifted her eyebrows as she finished her sentence: "jelly."
Fat Amy and Stacie tried valiantly to not look jelly as Chloe revealed all of the group's feelings with her attempted comeback: "We are so not jelly."
The blonde moved the towel from hand to hand as she taunted the Bellas: "We should really thank you for making this tour a reality," she looked over to the Legacy, and the male lead glanced his smirking face over at her as she continued "you know, with your bumbling ineptitude?"
He smirked even harder as she turned to him and said "We should send them something. Fruit basket?"
"Yum yum," he mocked, shaking his head as if reacting to a delicious meal. The blonde smiled a confident smile as she turned back to Beca, eyebrows raised.
"Or would you prefer mini-muffins?" she finished with a toothy, superior grin.
Beca had to respond, had to bolster her group. She mustered up her classic Beca bravado.
"Okay, we didn't come here to start something with you guys, we just wanted to check you out before the Worlds, where we're going to kick your ass," she challenged in her plain, straightforward, middle-American speech. Cynthia Rose, Flo, and Ashley echoed encouragements from the table behind her.
The blonde began a catlike stalk towards her and Beca knew she had made a mistake.
"You?" the blonde pointed at her, looking simpering sweet and ready to pounce. "You are the kicker of ass?" Beca was rooted to the floor, couldn't stop staring, couldn't stop herself.
"We—yeah," she creaked out, rolling her eyes to the side in some faux-modest flirty way she hadn't known was in her.
The German was close, now, too close, and she kept challenging. "You are so tiny," she grinned like a lion staring down an impala. "Like an elf," she seemed to remember herself now, returning to her usual mocking tone, "or is it a fairy…? Or a sprite?" Without turning, she posed a question to her male companion in flat German.
"Troll," he responded with a bizarre pleasure.
"That's it. You are like a troll," she rasped, baring her teeth and looking down at Beca.
"You—!" Beca started, knowing that she couldn't let the blonde win. At the same moment, the German lowered her stare, dropping the grin. Beca followed suit and became distracted "—are physically flawess." She darted her eyes back up to the blonde's face and remembered that she should be delivering an insult.
"Thank you," the German lead replied coolly, blinking several times more than necessary.
After a second of searching desperately for a proper follow-up to conceal her faux-pas, Beca knew there was no more stalling; she just had to go with what she had. "But it doesn't mean I like you," she added, trying to cock her head threateningly, but immediately failing when she wavered and dropped her eyes to floor, embarrassed that Chloe was watching her fail so hard at being a team leader.
Chloe tried to step in as the blonde's sidekick furrowed his brow, presumeably at Beca's idiocy. "We are not scared about the Worlds because when the Bellas hit the stage, we are gonna blow minds." Beca looked back over at the German with her eyebrows lowered in a way she hoped looked intense.
The tall man finally spoke up: "With what? More of Flabby Abby's baby chute?"
As the male lead harassed Fat Amy, the blonde cocked her head, raised her eyebrows, and continued to stare down at Beca, who tried her best to stay tough. His expression shifted countless times in the exchange, but Beca couldn't look at him. Her eyes were locked in competition.
The blonde broke the dead silence between them: "Darlings, please take my advice," she simpered, "Don't try to beat us. You can't. We are the best," she cracked her neck and resumed glaring down at Beca. "And now I really must go rest my neck. It is sore from looking down on you," With that, she turned on her heel and marched away, her sidekick following quickly behind.
"Okay, just because you're making me very sexually confused does not mean that you're intimidating!" Beca yelled after her, gesticulating wildly. "We have nothing to lose! Literally nothing! Aca-wiedersehen, bitches!" Wait, what the fuck? "Oh my god, what is happening? Why am I using my hands so much?"
"Great job, Beca, what was that?" Chloe questioned.
Fat Amy added "Yeah, you let that lady Deustchbag eat YOU for lunch."
Beca didn't know what had gone wrong, but she did know that this German girl—no, woman— was going to pose a serious problem.