The Casualties of Side Hustling

In his weekly column for LateNighter, Chris “Wally” Feresten, (a.k.a. the guy who holds the cue cards on Saturday Night Live, Late Night with Seth Meyers, and beyond) shares stories from his remarkable career. Got a question you’d like Wally to answer in a future column? Send it to [email protected].

I’ve watched a lot of guests be interviewed by late-night hosts over the years, so I understand what makes a good story. And in June of 1992 I had the kind of day that I knew would make for a very good story when I was a featured extra in the music video for Eric B. & Rakim’s song “Casualties of War.” So many wild things happened over the course of that 12-hour shoot that I always thought if I was ever asked to be a guest on a late-night talk show that would be the story I would regale the host and audience with.

Then, a few years back, I actually did get the chance to be a guest on Late Night with Seth Meyers. But it was a last-minute decision, and I didn’t have a chance to tell it. More importantly, now that I think about it, the story is far too long and it would never have fit into the confines of a late-night interview segment. But as I’m lucky enough to have this column on LateNighter, I can now share the entire experience of that memorable day with all of you.

After my second season of Saturday Night Live ended in May of 1992, I paid my bills by bartending and working at a golf course in Queens. I also decided to try my hand at acting and promptly got headshots taken. I figured I’d audition for open casting calls that were advertised in the back of Backstage magazine.

I went to a few cattle call auditions for movies, but was overwhelmed by how many people turned out . I’d wait for hours to basically just give them my headshot and resume and then be politely asked to leave. So one day I decided to lower my expectations—and possibly lessen the competition—by responding to a casting call for a music video.

I went to the audition toward the end of the time frame that was called for and was surprised to find no other aspiring actors waiting to be seen. I entered a room and found out later that it was the producer and the director of the music video, just kind of chatting and hanging out. I asked them if they were still seeing people for auditions, and they invited me to have a seat.

We chatted for a few minutes about random topics, and they asked me if I enjoyed working at SNL, as I had featured it prominently on my resume. I talked to them about being a cue card guy and when I finished, they told me I was hired and that the shoot would be on one day the following week. I was elated: I had booked my first acting gig as a featured extra.

I stupidly asked them why they chose me over the other actors they had seen, and they both chuckled and told me honestly that they needed a white guy for one of the parts and that I was the only white guy who showed up. I laughed along with them and was not offended at all; it was my lucky day. It actually reminded me of the time I had booked the lead in my high school’s production of You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown and the director told me I got the part—not because I was the best singer but because I sang the loudest in the auditions.

The following week, on an extremely hot June day, I showed up at the location—a hospital in Brooklyn—at 8 a.m. I met the four other actors I would be working with. We were quickly dressed in Army fatigues and instructed to get into body bags that were lined up in a row on a grassy area outside the hospital. We did as we were told and the bags were zipped up to our necks. Our job was to play dead for about 45 minutes—in these extremely hot body bags, on this extremely hot day—as they shot footage of the rappers performing around us.

With that scene wrapped we moved onto our next shot, which was in the hospital’s morgue. It was a real, working morgue in the basement of the hospital. This time I was the only one instructed to get into the body bag that was now lying on a sterile grey table.

I got into the bag, but it was much better this time, as the morgue was very well air-conditioned, and it was helping me cool down from the previous scene. As I laid in the body bag, they called a 15-minute break and asked if I wanted to get out of the bag. I told them I was good; they shrugged, and all left the room.

Even back then, I wasn’t a morning person. So a few minutes after everyone left, I promptly fell asleep. When the first assistant director returned and saw that I had fallen asleep, he was a bit taken aback. I asked him if everything was OK and he could not believe that I had fallen asleep, alone, in a body bag, inside a real working morgue. I told him the air conditioning felt good and I was a little tired. They got the shots they wanted, and we moved to the next location.

The next shot called for us soldiers to be in the back of an Army transport truck just hanging out during some downtime. I was told to deal some cards to another soldier and we were all told that we would be smoking cigarettes. I have asthma and was warned by my mother when I was little that I should never smoke cigarettes because I had bad lungs. I heeded her warnings and had never smoked one cigarette up until that point. I relayed this to the director, who insisted that everyone needed to smoke in this scene. I told him that I would do it and we started shooting the scene.

What ended up proving to be a bigger problem than my asthma was that I couldn’t hold the cigarette in my hand and smoke casually as both my hands were tied up with dealing the cards. As I dealt the cards, the lit cigarette was put in my mouth and the smoke from it went directly into my eyes, causing me to very noticeably squint and look extremely uncomfortable. The director yelled “Cut,” walked over, and told me I didn’t need to smoke anymore. I think we were both relieved.

When that scene was over, we moved locations to the Upper West Side, where our holding location was inside a church. I was told that I wouldn’t be needed for a few hours, so I was happy to just sit, get a bite to eat, and relax a bit as I had been used in almost every shot so far.

Before I could even sit down, a producer came over and told me I was needed on set. I told him I was told I was getting a break and he said there was a change of plans and that I needed to meet with the weapons expert. This was the first I was hearing about this and was curious as to why I needed to talk with a weapons expert! He told me I needed to get a safety lesson because I would be firing a real M16 rifle in a bodega in the next scene. He informed me that the director wanted me to have a more prominent role in the video. I was happy about that news, but very nervous about firing a real gun.

I met the weapons guy, who handed me a real M16 filled with blanks. He told me that even though it had blanks in it, there was still a discharge that came out of the rifle and instructed me not to aim it at anyone when I pulled the trigger.

They quickly ushered me into a real bodega and the director told me that I would enter the scene, gun aimed and ready, and when I saw a woman and her child, I would shoot them both. He explained that they were now centering the video on my character as a white soldier returning home from Desert Storm who is suffering psychological trauma from his war experiences and shoots up the store and the woman and her child.

I never shot the weapon at the woman or the child; they basically just had me walk methodically around the bodega and shoot just to the side of where the camera was. It was actually pretty fun and after a few takes they got what they needed.

We moved further uptown to what I thought was the final location. When we got there I was brought into a trailer and told to hang out until setup was completed. As I sat there doing the Daily News crossword puzzle, in walked Eric B. and Rakim. This was their trailer and I guess I had done a good enough job that I was upgraded and allowed to share it with the stars of the video.

I didn’t know anything about these guys, so I kept quiet. I had almost finished the crossword and Eric B. looked over at it and asked me if I was writing in the correct answers or just blindly filling in the blanks with random answers. I told him the answers were all correct and he was quite impressed.

We quickly shot a scene inside the Army transport where we were under attack at night, and we were acting all freaked out. I think it was some of my best stuff. I thought it was the last shot of the night, but boy was I wrong!

I was pulled aside by the director and told they needed me for one more shot. He explained that they were running out of time, so they had to do this last shot quickly. I told them, ‘Of course, let’s do it.’

He walked me over to a baby carriage and said he needed me to push this baby carriage down the sidewalk about 30 yards. ‘No problem, I can do that,’ I said. He then told me that my head would be wrapped completely in newspaper, and I wouldn’t be able to see much. ‘I got this’ I replied (a little less confidently). Then he told me that the baby carriage was going to be on fire!

I very hesitantly said, ‘Ummm, OK, I guess so.’ I asked if there was going to be a fire expert I could talk to, and he said there was no time for any of that safety stuff.

They quickly wrapped my head in newspaper and cut two very small holes so I could see a little bit and put my hands on the handle of the baby carriage. Before they lit it on fire, I clearly heard a guy say, “Okay, get those fire extinguishers ready, this guy has newspaper wrapped around his head and it could very easily ignite from the blazing baby carriage.” That made me a bit uneasy, but they lit the carriage up and I pushed it slowly down the sidewalk as instructed. I could feel the hair on my fingers singeing as I did this last stunt.

When I got to the end of the sidewalk, I heard the director yell something that really surprised me: “ONE MORE TIME!” (You can fill in the expletive that I thought to myself upon hearing this.)

They brought me back to the starting point, put my hands back on the now fully ablaze carriage, and called “Action.” I was very scared. The fire from the carriage was getting very close to me, but I pushed that damn carriage slowly down the sidewalk, again, got to the end point, and literally had two guys pick me up to get me away from the huge, fiery carriage. They took the newspaper off my head; the director came over and thanked me profusely and my first—and only—music video shoot was over.

It was a truly bizarre day, but I knew I’d have a fun story to share.

A few weeks later I received a check for $110 for my 12 hours of acting and stunt work. The video came out a few months later and I’m barely in it. But if you look really closely—or pause the video when you see the only white guy who showed up to the audition, you’ll catch a glimpse of a 27-year-old Wally dipping his toes into the acting world.

If you would like your very own personalized cue card written and autographed by Wally, please go to cuecardsbywally.com and get all the information you will need. It’s the perfect gift for that late night comedy fan in your life.