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We know these two are going to be facing off in the near future. This match needs promos to build it. Write a promo segment with these two in the ring.
 

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Sin Cara and Sin Cara come out and compete in an Evil Monkey impersonator contest.

The end.
 

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We all know Hunico can talk English but I feel just giving Mistico Sin Cara a mouthpiece would weaken him so I'd be inclined to give Hunico Sin Cara Armando Estrada to talk for him while it might be a good way for the WWE to use Rey Mysterio to be Mistico Sin Cara's mouthpiece, It'd also possibly be a good way to put Mistico Sin Cara over having Rey endorse him
 

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Lucy Snorebush
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Hunico: Yo soy fiel.
Mystico: Yo soy fiel.
Hunico: Yo soy fiel.
Mystico: Yo soy fiel.

[Commence backflips and hurricanranas]
 

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WWE should record some other luchador in the WWE talking but play the recording while the real Sin Cara is holding the mic to his mouth so it sounds like he's talking.
 

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Sin Cara makes his way down to the ring. "It's Sin Cara!" exclaims Michael Cole, to which Booker T replies "But wut Cara is dat, Josh? Wut. Cara. Is. Dat?" As Sin Cara soars over the top rope, Josh Matthews comments on the lights in the arena. "Why is the lighting normal?" he asks frantically, "This ... this isn't right."

As Sin Cara is limbering up in the ring, stretching out, jumping, pointing like a pro, his music restarts. The other Sin Cara begins his run to the ring. "Is ... is dat the other Cara?" questions Booker T, his head cocked curiously to one side. "WHAT?" squeals Michael Cole in response. "The lights ..." begins Josh in a panic, "SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH THE LIGHTS!"

As the two Caras circle one another, each vying for the attention of the crowd, Booker T notes that "Both dem Caras is in the ring!" Josh cuts off Michael Cole before he has a chance to steal the limelight, "LIGHTS," he starts, "LIGHTS," he chants a second time, "LIGHTS," a third time.

The two Caras are now motionless. The crowd are unsure of who to cheer for and neither man knows where to begin. It quickly becomes apparent they need nothing but instinct. Slowly, each Cara raises a finger, reaching out toward the other. "Dey pointing at each other!" Booker T informs us. The two Caras near the apex of their gestures. As their hands meet, sparks begin to flit between their outstretched fingers. "THE LIGHT! THE LIIIGGGGHHHHHTTTTTTTTT!" Josh screams from the top of the table, his headset cracked and broken on the floor.

The sparks grow, extending beyond the fingertips of the Caras and spreading up their arms, which are now emitting a faint, blue glow. "YEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!" cries Matthews, his eyes a fusion of reverence and terror. "IS DAT A SIDEWALK SLAM?" shouts Booker in amazement.

The glow now engulfs the two Caras, who both convulse rhythmically. Jolts of electricity now fly from the centre of the glow, spreading out from the fingers of the Caras, tearing through the front rows of the audience and forcing their way out into the crowd beyond.

As the convulsions increase, the glow begins to pulsate. Blinding flashes of light etch the mirrored Cara silhouette into the scorched eyelids of the surviving audience members and stream out further and further, pressing the flayed, burnt bodies of the crowd deeper and deeper into the furthest walls. Vince Russo walks out, bored.

Inexplicably alive, Cole is once again interrupted by Matthews. "AAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE" he screams, a final howl of appreciation as his now floating body disperses into pure energy with the largest pulse so far. "You no wut, Michael? I think I'm gon' have to put dis boy rite dere in my fav five. Both dese Caras man, dey great!"
"Yeah, them, the seven dwarfs and the entire locker room, right, Booker?"
"He He He."

The convulsions now shake the floor, jerking the two Caras down to their knees. They fall closer to one another, their shoulders now leaning, one against the other. The pulses grow even larger, each one twice as bright as the last and ever-more frequent. As the pulses intensify, a buzzing sound fills the air, growing louder and louder, quaking the very Earth below. Compelled by the rumbling of the tectonic plates beneath them, the two Caras vibrate, slowly collapsing in on themselves, falling together, merging. Their shoulders form to become one shoulder, then their chests, their heads and eventually their legs.

Everything goes quiet.

"I hate Jerry Lawler! I can't believe that idiot. He only went and got crippled by Mark Henry on Raw. Did you see that, Booker? Did you see that?" Cole asks loudly.

The Earth is still. The air is quiet. The room is dark. One man stands in the ring.

Suddenly ...

"You know its the Mack militant!
Coming to get it on!"

"Now just you hold on a minute there, playa! I think I'm gonna have to make this a tag team match!"
 

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Three syllables

'FUUUUUUUUU-SION-HAAAA!'
 

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