GW: Welcome, Planet Nine.
GW: Hold on. Let me fire up my interplanetary translator. O.K., go ahead.
P9: Kadjfoieutwqioejgva! Ha ha, I'm just playin'. How are you?
GW: Fine. You understand that our scientists named you Planet Nine because we already have eight orbiting our sun?
P9: Yeah, but my friends call me Reggie.
GW: You have friends?
P9: Hey, you got an elliptical orbit, you meet people.
GW: Scientists have nicknamed you "Phattie" because of your size.
P9: And they spell it all 1990s to sound cool? That's adorable.
GW: They also tell us you are icy with a gassy outer layer.
P9: People in glass houses, George.
GW: Fair enough. What other attributes do you have that we might find interesting?
P9: I've got volcanoes up the ying-yang.
P9: Extinct ones, yeah. And diamonds the size of your face.
GW: Will you cough one up for me?
P9: It doesn't work like that. Where they come from, well, let's just say it's where the sun don't shine. You might want to pass.
GW: Any life forms on ya?
P9: I used to have a fern. It died.
GW: You're kidding, right?
P9: The Earth man is catching on. Look, even at my closest to the sun, I'm still frostier than Hillary Clinton at a gun show.
GW: Astronomers estimate that it takes you about 15,000 years to orbit our sun. Is that right?
P9: No, it takes a year. How long does it take Earth?
GW: A year.
P9: See what I mean? My year's just got a loooooot more holidays.
GW: Do you think those Cal Tech guys will ever be able to spot you?
P9: Not unless they walk in right now and order a venti macchiato. How do you drink this swill?
GW: Caramel is considered a delicacy here.
P9: Well, I'm out. Tell your guys to put down the telescopes, man. Look in, not out.
GW: That's deep.
P9: Well, let's just say from my neighborhood, I have a little perspective.
. . .