Tango
How the hell did Loki get out? Again? Seriously, could the Agardians really not keep him locked up for longer than a month before he was back terrorizing Earth? And why was it always Clint that seemed to be at the brunt of every attack?
Well, to be fair the other Avengers weren’t fairing that well either. Steve was currently stuck on the ceiling by some mysterious purple goo. Natasha was cornered by three rather hairy alien-things (not that she looked worried). The hulk had been distracted by a small kitten that had wandered onto the scene and was now sitting on the floor awe-ing at it. Tony was shouting at Loki for turning his suit pink and making it shoot nothing but harmless rainbows and gumdrops instead of lasers and bullets. Thor had been turned miniature, running around with a tiny harmer and shouting high-pitched war cries while trying not to get trampled.
But Clint still defended that he had it worse than any of them. He had been magically forced to dance a tango with one of the hairy aliens who looked none too pleased himself. And they couldn’t stop. Loki would be dead when Clint finally managed to get his hands on the pompous alien, he swore.