Work Text:
The day blossomed over the Planet Dotdotdot like it did every morning, which is to say, it didn't. The planet Dotdotdot had a remarkable cosmic cycle. It didn't orbit. It simply hung alone in space, as if daring the universe to do something about it.
And therefore the four suns neither rose nor set, but simple existed at what would be considered “high noon,” on each side of the planet, if there had been a “lower noon” or even just a “noon” to compare it to, or if they had any sort of time system. Which they didn't.
Another peculiarity of Dotdotdot was its inhabitants. They called themselves hipsters (no relation to the social group of a certain planet). They were vaguely humanoid in the way that a guitar is vaguely a piano.
First of all, their skin was red. Not sunburned red, not even blood red or goth red, but the red hue often found in a species of aquatic crustacean.
They evolved to become rather dextrous creatures, with long elegant fingers (eight of them per hand), tough skin, and large mouths full of molars. Both of these things combined to make the arrangement, handling, and consumption of paper rather easy. There's quite the paper export and restaurant industry on Dotdotdot. Each restaurant had its specialty (which sort of tree? What weight of paper? Stationary or cardstock?). For a short period of time, Origami was hip. Food would be served in the shape of a crane or a water lily, only to be demolished quickly and enjoyed thoroughly.
The entire civilization of Dotdotdot existed in one spot on the planet, an area roughly the size of Antarctica on Earth. The rest of the planet was covered in trees (hence the diet), though the majority of the tree population is that of the Larch. Various Dendrologists have tried to discern as to why a tree that needs a cold climate has flourished in a land of perpetual “high noon,” and returned simply because they didn't care.
The hipsters of Dotdotdot have a language similar to that of Earth's, only spelled quite differently. A few Earthian visitors to this planet have found themselves flabbergasted by the tourist manuals, the signage, and the paper restaurant menus (printed on leaves), and often found themselves leaving the planet in a huff.
The reason is this: Though it sounds exactly like the English Language, it is spelled completely different. This can be frustrating to a load of stuck-up literate English majors, which unfortunately seem to be the only people who find themselves on Dotdotdot. They spend the first half of their visit shouting, “It's called Elipses! Your planet is called Elipses!” at the locals.
Here's an excerpt from the Dotdotdot visitor's manual:
"Wellcome too … teh land ov delishus payper. Were verie happee too hav yew heer. An wee hope your to. Pleeze n'joy hour payper restrawnts, hour worm heir, an hour treez."
If one ever wants to wreak havoc on the hipsters of Dotdotdot, one would only need to unleash a spell-check virus.