???: I can't remember much.
Flashes of gold lighting flicker on your television screen as generic, heavy metal theme plays in the background. An image of a rather poor creature, a fish, symbolizes nothing. If there is a significance to such an icon, no one knows about it...yet.
???: Broken memories and lost dreams...
Gold flashes again after each sentence, the fish starting to decay with each flash.
???: But from what I can recall...I was a comedian.
These flashes now become quicker, like a strobe light, and the fish becomes more like a zombified version of itself, growing black and lustless.
???:...I was a high flyer. I was someone that people either loved to laugh with or loved to laugh at.
The fish is now completely decayed, nothing left but one eye, its bones and some skin hanging off the ribs. It's a rather grotesque sight indeed.
???: But I loved it all. And then, it was all taken away from me.
CRASH! This sound echoes through the speakers in a horrific way, something that would make most human beings jump, children cry and adults ponder to what it could have been. Just then, no more gold strobe effect. A newspaper clipping shows up on screen, the article titled "Wikkid Wrestler in Accident; Loses memory again as Company Folds." A picture on the clipping shows a bloodied man, a shredded mask and half a car.
???: Fate tried to bring down the most promising man in wrestling history. Well, screw fate. I may not know exactly who I am anymore. But I've followed some leads to a new home. Most of the faces are new, or maybe they only seem new. I can't tell. I'll have to redevelop myself, recondition my style, and redo my image if I'm going to find out who I am and what I do best. So who am I now, you ask?
Fading in from the abyss of your screen is the face of a young man, smiling at you in a manner befitting The Joker. His eyes are near pitch black, his brown hair spiked upward and his breathing... deep.
???: I am Gilbert Gold. And I welcome myself to IWF!
Fade...to...black.