It looked foolish, doing salsa steps to a Martian beat going at the wrong tempo. Daric and Ellen danced to their own music, which garnered a few turning of heads in their direction. Ellen giggled as she danced as she heard about the salsa joke, though never missing a step when she did so. "Most of these people only dance the Martian hop. The only salsa they've heard of is the one that chips dive in," she said.<br/><br/>"We Hispanic people, we never forget our heritage and culture. Even after twenty years, culture never dies. It dies with ignorance," she said as she sat on a bar stool. She removed her jacket, revealing the black tanktop underneath, and folded it, placing it on the counter. She just momentarily saw what looked like Daric's shirt fly into the crowd like a Speedball. Daric put on a new one to replace the one he threw at someone's face. When he sat down next to her, she said, "I've never seen a non-Hispanic danced like that before. Where did you learn it?"