In a fit of rage, the rapidly goopifying Sandman roared and shifted both his fists into large mallets.

[color=SandyBrown]"I'll murder ya!"[/color]

With a snarl, Marko swung hard with his fists towards Captain America. As Cap raised his shield to take the blow, he was surprised when nothing came. Instead, Sandman's two malleted fists hung suspended in mid-air.

[color=SandyBrown]"What the hell?"[/color]

Against his own will, Sandman's fists came crashing into his chests before jutting out again, twisting in time with some unheard music. To anyone who happened to be alive in the mid to late 90's, Marko was doing a dance that was very familiar. It had swept the across the world like a plague. But like a fun plague. A plague with a nice beat you could dance to.

"Dale a tu cuerpo alegría Macarena," Howard sung in Spanish, the glove pointed in Sandman's direction.

With a look of horror on his face, Marko continued to do the Macarena, a dance that anybody who was anybody in 1995 and 1996 were doing. 1997 if you lived in the rural parts of America. 1998 if you weren't cool. And if you're Canadian, you're still doing it now probably. 

[color=SandyBrown]"Stop! I hated this ^$#@ing song back when I was in high school!"[/color]

"Que tu cuerpo es pa' darle alegría why cosa buena," sang Howard. "Dale a tu cuerpo alegría, Macarena. Hey Macarena!"

With a flick of Howard's wrist, Marko slammed into his own head with the two malleted fists. The blows sent him toppling to the ground with a powerful thud. His body broke down into a mess of mud and sand.