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Thanks to Erin, here's the final results of the first Stardust Sci-FI Story Contest as only Erin can present them. Yes, I know my name is on the story too but it's mostly Erin's inspired madness.

I also wanted to note that the quantity and quality of all the stories contributed for the contest made the final decision very difficult. Each story deserves an award just for the effort the authors put into them.

by Erin Halfelven and Bob Arnold

"Bill, we're going to be late," the dark haired man looked at his watch again.

"They can't start without us, Leonard," said the blond man.

"Yeah, but it's supposed to be an award show. They're supposed to start on time."

"Well, but it isn't really. It's a surprise birthday party for me, right?"

"Right, Bill. But hurry up, you'll spoil the surprise."

"Gotta get the costume just right, Leonard. My hair..."

"Your hair is fine, Bill. I took it for its walk and everything."

"Ho, ho, very funny."

The announcer sounds a bit like Spike Jones. "And now, the hosts of our First Anniversary Stardust Science Fiction Awards Show, the stars of the original star trek!" The audience claps as two men come from opposite sides of the stage.

The blond man's ready grin is charming. The dark-haired man doesn't smile but seems amused. The crowd murmurs a bit then quietens.

"Walt," says the blond, "those ears are you!"

"Actually, I borrowed them for the occasion, Les."

"Well, it's a look. Suits you. So what are we here for?"

"It's an awards show."

"What? They finally awarded us something? About time?" He mugs at the audience.

"Don't be obtuse, Les. We're going to be giving out some awards."

"Okay," says the blond, taking a pair of reading glasses out of his tunic. "You got the envelope?"

"No, but here comes Anne, I think she's got it."

A lovely young woman enters. She beams at the audience and hands an envelope to Walt.

"Rowwrr!" says Les.

"Down, boy," she says still smiling as she turns and sways off the stage.

"That planet is forbidden, Les," says Walt.

"Both of them?" quips Les, mugging at the audience again.

"Just read the awards. This is the Honorable Mention category."

"Right," says Les, opening the envelope and handing one sheet of paper to Walt.

Les clears his throat several times. Walt glares at him. Les reads, "In no particular order the awards for:

Walt reads the first one:

Les reads:

Walt:

Les:

Walt:

Les turns his paper over and looks at the back, "Inspected by..."

"Don't read that," says Walt. "We're done."

"That's it?" asks Les. "They haul us out of celluloid limbo after fifty years and all we get to do is read a few awards?"

"That's it. Surely you weren't really expecting anything else?" He bows elegantly to the crowd.

"Well, at least we could have worn our own costumes instead of these velour t-shirts." The audience claps as they begin to walk off stage. "And don't call me 'Shirley'!"

"We're late," says Leonard.

"I told you we would be," says Bill.

"No, wait, we're late because you were messing with your toupee!"

Bill shrugs. "Well, you couldn't find your bicycle."

"And who hung it from the light pole?" asks Leonard.

"It's like I always say," says Bill. "Remember where we parked."

The announcer says, "Please welcome the stars of television's first hit Sci-Fi series about a star trek!"

A robot and a man enter to loud applause.

The man stares at the machine, "You're the wrong robot," he says in a disparaging voice.

"On the contrary, Jon. I'm the correct robot, the original Robbie the Robot."

"You've got feet. Our robot had treads like a pint-size tank."

"My son, B-9. He couldn't be here tonight. He's vacuuming his rug."

"You should have been here with the other has beens from that awful movie."

"Nice to know you haven't changed, Jon." The robot ripples the lights inside his transparent head in what might be a laugh.

Jon smiles, showing his dimples. He lifts one eyebrow. "Well, we're here to read the third place winners in this contest, correct?"

"That's correct, Jon. And here comes our lovely co-star with the envelope."

A boy comes out of the wings carrying an envelope. He stares at the robot. "Hi, Jon," he says to the man.

"Billy," says Jon, nodding pleasantly.

"You're the wrong robot," Billy says to the machine.

"No, I'm the right robot," says Robbie. "I can prove it."

"Okay," says Billy. "Prove it."

Robbie flashes his lights and windmills his arms, staggering in a circle and intoning loudly, "Danger! Danger! Danger!" He stops, facing away from the audience. "Hey? Where'd everybody go?"

Billy hands the envelope to Jon, who tears it open and hands a sheet back to the boy who reads:

Jon chimes in:

Billy:

Jon:

The robot mutters, "I can't see out of the neck of this thing."

"We'll save you," says Jon, smiling and winking at the audience. "You incompetent offspring of the Michelin Man." He takes one arm of the robot and Billy takes the other.

"Just like old times, Jon," says Billy.

"Indeed it is," says the man. "Do you have a nickel, Billy?"

"No, 'fraid not. What did you want a nickel for?"

"Oh," says Jon, "I just had a taste for a gumball. Is there a pillar or a pit we could lead our good friend into nearby?"

"Hey!" says the robot as the curtains close behind them.

"We're never going to make it in time," says Leonard.

"Yes, we will," says Bill, pulling out his cell phone. "Jimmy!"

"Bill?" says the cell phone.

"Two to beam up, Jimmy!"

"That's not going to work, Bill," says Leonard as they shimmer and disappear.

"And now, the stars you've been waiting for," announces the announcer. "Jason Nesmith and Sir Alexander Dane!"

Bill and Leonard shimmer into being in the center of the stage. "We made it!" says Bill.

"I don't believe it," says Leonard.

"Jimmy, I could kiss you," Bill tells his cell phone.

"No need," says Jimmy's voice. "Unless you want to start a new feud?"

Bill looks up at the audience. "Wow, this is going to be some party!"

"We've got to read the awards first," Leonard whispers.

"You sure?" whispers Bill.

"Yes, now call Dee for the envelopes."

Bill opens his mouth but Leonard stops him. "Do it in character," he whispers.

"But I can see him right there, standing just off stage."

"Just do it, Bill."

Bill blinks then bellows, "Bones! Bones! Have you got the envelopes?"

Dee stalks on stage and thrusts the envelopes into Bill's hands, "Damnit, Jim!" he snarls. "I'm a doctor not an accountant!"

Bill cracks up. Dee smiles and Leonard cocks an eyebrow.

Just as Bill catches his breath, the transporter hum starts up again and the three of them hurry off of the area of the stage marked by the circles of light.

"What the?" A number of animated toupees appear in the circles. "Jimmy! What are you doing?" asks Bill.

"Oops," says a vaguely Scottish sounding voice.

"Bill," says Leonard, "Read the awards."

While the toupees spread around the stage, appearing to try to eat everyone's shoes, Bill and Leonard tear open their envelopes.

Bill:

Leonard:

"You know," says Dee, stepping carefully, "these renegade hairpieces remind me of something."

Leonard:

Bill:

The transporter hums again, lights twinkle and the furry little creatures fade out with a glimmer effect.

"Jimmy!" shouts Bill. "What did you do?"

"Och, Aye!" says Jimmy, materializing in the middle of the stage surrounded by George, Nichelle, Grace, Majel and Walter. "I sent them to the Stardust engine room where they'll be no tribble at all!"

"Happy Birthday, Bill!" they all shout.

"Just wait till Monday, Leonard," whispers Bill. "Your bicycle is going to the moon!"