He’s raging at the world, with an infected piercing in his left earlobe and a leather jacket that’s a half a size too small.
“It wasn’t John Mayer’s assistant!” he shouts angrily, slamming the door open and storming into the Treble’s clubhouse.
“Bumper!” Donald says, as one of the others startles so bad he falls off the couch.
“I got to L.A. and my hotel reservation wasn’t there, so I had to get a room at this really shitty place on the edge of town! And then when I went in for my first meeting the next day they had never heard of me! And the assistant who called me doesn’t exist!”
“That blows, dude, but why are you here?” Jesse says.
“Because I’m the boss.” Bumper sneers, slinging his duffel to the ground.
“No you’re not.” Donald says, tilting his head and peering up at Bumper through his glasses.
“What do you mean, no I’m not?” Bumper scoffs incredulously.
“You quit, dude.” Jesse says.
“Yeah, right before finals too.” someone adds from the back of the room.
“We replaced you.” Donald says with a smirk, gesturing over at Benji.
“Him?” Bumper says, “Really? You got the freak? Come on, you know I’m better, I don’t know why you’re making this harder on yourselves-”
“You’re out, dude.” Donald says.
“You came in second at finals.” Bumper exclaims.
“Yeah, because the Bellas actually made an effort. We don’t need you.” Jesse says with a shrug.
“Oh, come on-” Bumper starts.
“Sorry Bumper,” Jesse interrupts, “but this is the Trebles clubhouse, Trebles only. You’re gonna have to leave.”
Bumper splutters indignantly for a minute, turning steadily red, before grabbing his bag and storming out.
Later that night, Jesse tells Beca the story, and across the room Fat Amy starts laughing. Beca’s eyes narrow as she turns to stare in her direction.
“Amy, what did you do?” she calls.
“I had his number,” Amy yells back, “I figured I might as well put it to use!”