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Five-Timers Club

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Five-Timers Club

Christopher Walken TF/Hypnosis theme

Disclaimer:
This story is mainly told from the point of view of my fictional character and is not real, if you think it is real you have too much time on your hands.

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It was my latest turn guest hosting on Saturday Night Live and I was looking forward to hanging out with my heroes in the Five-Timers Club.   I knew that it would be pretty awesome to be apart of the legacy of one of the best comedy sketch shows in the history of entertainment.

I  had just finished getting ready when I approached the entrance to the Five-Timers Club,   I opened the door carefully and crept inside.  I found various chairs belonging to each of the members,  including what appeared to be a cowbell of sorts.

“A cowbell?  What’s this doing here?”

“Tink,  tink,  tink…”

“Mister Walken must be missing this,  I better return it to him immediately.”

“Oh?  But don’t you want to pick it up and listen to it?”

“No,  this belongs to Mister Walken.”

“Tink,  tink tink.”

I picked up the cowbell and touched it for a few seconds before quickly turning to face the door,   but just as I did -  the cowbell turned a golden color and gave off a supernatural glow.  

“Why is it glowing like that?”

“Tink,  tink,  tink.”

“This is slightly weird..”

“But it’s not weird,  Christopher.   It’s natural.”

“Huh?  Did you just call me Christopher?  As in Walken?”

“Yes,   because that’s what you’ve always been called -  Chris.”

“No,  my name is Nathan Forester -   i’ve hosted this show about 8 times already.”

“Oh,  but that name you have is just your human name.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Christopher,   you’ve always been Walken.   You just use that human form as a means to hide your true self.”

“I don’t know what you’re on about.   I’m not Walken.”

“Oh,  but you are…”

“I think I better get out of here.”

I made a mad-dash for the door but a supernatural force blew me backwards onto the Five-timers couch,  the cowbell levitated in mid air as its hypnotic sound triggered a certain instinct inside me.   I slowly found myself falling into a deep,  blissful trance - all of my will was being sapped away.

“That’s it Chris,  relax..obey..”

“Yes,  I must obey…”

“Listen very closely to my words.   For they are your reality.”

“Yes.”

“You are Christopher Walken,  you always have been Walken.  You can’t remember being anything else but Walken.”

“I am Walken.”

“Now,  Christopher...you see that cowbell over there?”

“Yes.”

“That cowbell is for you.   You like cowbell,  you like it a lot.”

“Yes,  I like it.”

“Do you want it?”

“Oh yes,  I want it.”

“You must have it...but before you do,  you must shed your human form and be Walken once again.”

“Please,  I want….”

“Say it,  you know you want to.”

“I...want more cowbell,  I gotta have it.”

“That’s a good Walken.”

All of the events up to now were becoming a blur,   vanishing is if they were a fading dream - I was slowly but surely forgetting everything that happened before as a new set of instincts and memories took over.    Memories that all seemed familiar to me,  memories that rang more than a few cowbells.

I was having memories of being a soldier in vietnam forced to participate in Russian Roulette,  and of also being a captain who kept a gold watch up his behind in order to protect it from the ‘Gooks’.  

I also had memories of being an arch enemy to both Batman and James Bond,  as well as being married to Sissy Spacek and having Brendan Fraser as a son,   memories of also being married to Glenn Close twice,   memories of being a bloodthirsty Hessian soldier,  memories of being a rival for the affections of Tia Carrere,  memories of being a mafia type gangster on numerous occasions,   memories of reading the Three Little Pigs,  memories of being on stage.

But the most important memory of all was being on SNL as a member of the Five-Timers Club,  I was very proud of my achievement there.   It was there I remember my first exposure to cowbell and its heavenly tinking sound.   How it made me so happy to hear it and now I longed for it even more.

I kneeled slightly on the couch,  moaning softly as these new pleasant and soothing memories guided me along with my instincts.   My new instincts were telling me that cowbell was good,  verrrrry goood.  

“Oh yes,  I remember…”

“Yes...Chris...what do you remember?”

“I remember that this form is not me….it’s my ‘human’ form.   I’m not human.”

“Walken is an entirely different being...Walken is Walken,  you are Walken.”

“What shall I do?”

“Get rid of your human form,  you don’t need it.”

I nodded and concentrated as hard as I could,  letting the soothing sound of cowbell work its magic on my basic instincts,   making me crave it more and more.   I groaned and moaned several times,  as the cowbell fever burned up inside me -  which of course triggered the change.

The changes started at my upperbody starting with my arms as I saw the human skintone on them paling,   as my shirt slowly began to peel itself apart allowing my torso and chest to slim down and develop the same pale skintone on them.   My arms extended,  growing longer and thinner -  making my hands seem that much larger by comparison,  my fingers growing longer and extending as my knuckles became more pronounced.   A soft chill ran down my spine as my back and shoulders were also covered with the pale skintone and slimmed down in the process.

My hands and arms as well as my fingers,  chest,  stomach,  back and torso all resembled Walken’s,   the remains of my shirt reforming into a long elegant black dress shirt, looking down at my jeans I saw them also peeling themselves away,   reforming into a pair of elegant dress pants.   My legs were growing longer and thinner as a pale skintone crept up them - making them resemble Walken’s legs.

“Oh yes….my body looks much more like it’s supposed to,  now.”

“Well of course Chris...your transformation is coming along nicely.”

“It feels so good too.”

“Of course it feels good,  I know how bothersome it must be to be in that human form all day.”

“Being human really is bothersome,  but then again I don’t remember if I ever was human to begin with.”

“Well yes,  it is very bothersome.  You don’t even get to act like your Walkeny self.”

“Being Walken really is more natural.”

“Of course it is…”

I moaned slightly as my height elevated to 6ft,  which was Walken’s height -  from within my DNA was being altered,  becoming that of Walken’s own.  A brownish belt wrapping around my waist as my shoes morphed into a pair of black dress shoes.

My neckline elongated and became longer,  thinner and more elegant until it looked just like Walken’s as the pale skintone crept up it,  the pale skintone slowly made its way towards my face as my hair slowly prickled up,  turning sandy brown in colour and prickling up,  making it look very Walken-like.

I loved the texture of my gloriously Walken-like mane,  it felt so soft but yet vibrant - very Walkeny  indeed,  I watched as my eyebrows slowly thinned out and in the process turned sandy brown to match my hair,  next to change was my forehead as it elevated itself higher up,   my eyes turning blue with dark blue inner rings as they spread out,  becoming narrower and slightly sunken.

My nose thinned a little as it altered in shape to become Walken-like,  my senses of hearing and smell increasing as my ears altered to become Walken-like too.   My lips thinned out while the tips became pointed,  my lips shifting to a crescentian shape -  making them look Walken-like as well.  

I groaned a few more times,  watching in awe as my cheekbones became more pronounced as my cheeks became slightly sunken,  my jaw-line becoming more angular as my chin narrowed out.    My facial structure and shape altering to become more brachyian/mesoian, making me resemble Walken.

Of course those weren’t the last changes to happen to me,  my voice altered - becoming lower and deeper,  very gravelly and eerie but with a distinctive,  calm,  stoic and hypnotic tone to it, along with a very Walkeny accent of sorts and set of speech patterns.   I now sounded like Walken as well as looked like him.

The final change came in the form of my mind as it altered,  all of Walken’s instincts,  memories and traits took over -  I was no longer who I once thought I was, no...  I was Christopher Walken - I had always been Christopher Walken.  

I was always Walken,  no matter what anyone told me.   The urge to dance took over and I immediately got up and started dancing happily,  I was so happy to be my Walkeny self again.  


“I’m….beautiful.”


“Why yes,  you are...Christopher.”


“I’m ready for more cowbell.”

As if by magic the golden cowbell hovered over to me and I picked it up,  falling in love with its lovely tinking sound,   after all -  who doesn’t love cowbell?  Cowbell always soothed me with its hypnotic melody.    

Just then I heard it was time for the Cold Opening skit,  so I ran over on to the set and hid in one of the prop coffins,  lying down in it and entering a classic vampire pose.    I saw the current cast standing there all dressed in gothic outfits in a graveyard setting,  all crying and acting sad.


“It was horrible,  I was here when I saw it.  It took our Christopher.”

“Yes...and do you know what the last words he said were?”

“I believe he said…”

The actor playing the pallbearer was about to speak when one of the coffins opened up,  revealing me inside -   I let out a loud ferocious roar as my teeth lengthened and sharpened with my canines extending to become fangs while the rest of my teeth became pointed and Hessian-like.   I hissed in a vampiric manner before attacking him and draining him of his blood.

“Chris?”

“He’s alive!”

“Yes,  i’m alive.”

“But we thought it had taken you to the afterlife.”

“Well about that...turns out i’m actually a vampire.”

“What?  You’re a vampire?”

“Yes...A Walken to be exact! A Christopher Walken!”

“Oh Chris...what will you ever think of next?

“Live from New York.. it’s Saturday Night!”

With that the SNL opening theme played as the opening credits appeared,  along with the narrator good ol Don Pardo who gave his usual spiel.   After the opening credits,  I gracefully waltzed over to the stage and did the monologue.    The show went off rather well and I was glad.  

I was also glad that I was my Walkeny self again,  being human was interesting but being Walken is better.
Disclaimer:
This story is mainly told from the point of view of my fictional character and is not real, if you think it is real you have too much time on your hands.

Saturday Night Live ©  NBC,  Lorne Michaels.
© 2014 - 2024 monstermaster13
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