The мрія of Antonov is a gargantuan, orderly nation, ruled by the Pilot with an iron fist, and notable for its deadly medical pandemics, public floggings, and rampant corporate plagiarism. The hard-nosed, hard-working, cynical, humorless population of 33.776 billion Antonovians are rabid consumers, partly through choice and partly because the government tells them to and dissenters tend to vanish from their homes at night.

The minute, corrupt, pro-business, well-organized government, or what there is of one, prioritizes Industry, although Defense, Public Transport, and Education are also considered important, while Environment and Spirituality aren't funded at all. It meets to discuss matters of state in the capital city of Antonov. Income tax is unheard of.

The frighteningly efficient Antonovian economy, worth a remarkable 7,081 trillion Payloads a year, is driven almost entirely by the private sector, which is broadly diversified and led by the Arms Manufacturing industry, with major contributions from Information Technology, Gambling, and Soda Sales. Average income is an amazing 209,661 Payloads, but there is a vast disparity between incomes, with the richest 10% of citizens earning 1,753,296 per year while the poor average 4,867, a ratio of 360 to 1.

The regional delicacy of chocolate bombes is deadlier than an unexploded bomb, The Pilot's office has a newly installed Max-Man arcade game programmed by a 5th-grader, military chiefs pretend they're not at home when foreign governments call, and suspicious glow-in-the-dark wasps remain a source of terror and awe. Crime, especially youth-related, is all-pervasive, probably because of the absence of a police force. Antonov's national animal is the Cargo, which teeters on the brink of extinction due to widespread deforestation, and its national religion is Turbofan Thrust Power.

Antonov is ranked 1,525^th in the world and 2^nd in Founderless for Highest Disposable Incomes, with 207,984.42 Standard Monetary Units.