[i]Now[/i] Usuk was, well not necessarily and truly but, for the most part complete. Even after being shunted to this hell-hole Quantum Leap style, the creature still had the blood of lucha libre flowing through its veins. Before the being formerly known as Hijo Del Cuco, currently Usuk, was incorrect but now it was closer to what it should be. The mask, or hair for those too cowardly to don the mask, [i]was[/i] the luchador [b]themselves[/b]. The mask embodies it all, your identity, the path followed, your warrior spirit. The only time to be maskless was when you faded off into the sunset, and this was not yet that time.

So there Usuk was crouching upon a pile of rocks donning the mask. It might have been of poor quality, it might not be a proper mask, but there was an undeniable truth it was [i]his[/i] - heaven forbid her as Usuk did not know or notice many difference but he knew damn well his blood pumped with a luchador spirit - [i]mask[/i]. With a smug satisfaction Usuk sneered as he began rattling out the words he would always cling to no matter what leap. “Lie, cheat, steal. Lie, cheat, steal. LIE, CHEAT, STEAL!”