The Republic of Dreamsinker is a titanic, orderly nation, renowned for its lack of airports, punitive income tax rates, and restrictive gun laws. The hard-nosed, cynical, humorless, devout population of 21.94 billion Dreamsinkerians are ruled without fear or favor by a psychotic dictator, who outlaws just about everything and refers to the populace as "my little playthings."

The enormous, corrupt, moralistic, well-organized government juggles the competing demands of Administration, Industry, and Defense. It meets to discuss matters of state in the capital city of Sink. Citizens pay a flat income tax of 93.8%.

The frighteningly efficient Dreamsinkerian economy, worth a remarkable 4,572 trillion marks a year, is driven entirely by a combination of government and state-owned industry, with private enterprise illegal. However, for those in the know, there is an enormous, deeply entrenched, quite specialized black market in Uranium Mining, Woodchip Exports, Furniture Restoration, and Basket Weaving. The private sector mostly consists of enterprising ten-year-olds selling lemonade on the sidewalk, but the government is looking at stamping this out. Average income is an amazing 208,403 marks, with the richest citizens earning 6.5 times as much as the poorest.

Dreamsinkerian soldiers are assured their new ray-guns will finally power up after the next round of ominous chanting, students returning from overseas study are questioning the status quo, ice-filled coffins are ominously positioned in the corner of every hospital ward, and conspiracy theorists allege that the government is spying on them through their carbon monoxide detectors. Crime is moderate, perhaps because of the country's complete lack of prisons. Dreamsinker's national animal is the turtle, which teeters on the brink of extinction due to heavy metals seepage into national waterways.

Dreamsinker is ranked 185,457^th in the world and 2^nd in Occupied Mars for Most Developed, scoring 53.2 on the Human Development Index.