The Holy brown Sandmen of Cercueil is a gargantuan, orderly nation, ruled by Viscount Odious Cockburn with an iron fist, and renowned for its disturbing lack of elderly people, public floggings, and keen interest in outer space. The hard-nosed, hard-working, cynical, humorless, devout population of 31.429 billion Cercueilians 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 medium-sized, corrupt government juggles the competing demands of Defense, Law & Order, and Industry. It meets to discuss matters of state in the capital city of Six Feet Under. Citizens pay a flat income tax of 45.2%.

The frighteningly efficient Cercueilian economy, worth a remarkable 4,114 trillion loams a year, is broadly diversified and led by the Arms Manufacturing industry, with major contributions from Information Technology, Beef-Based Agriculture, and Retail. Black market activity is extensive. Average income is an impressive 130,900 loams, but there is a large disparity between incomes, with the richest 10% of citizens earning 586,420 per year while the poor average 18,090, a ratio of 32.4 to 1.

Starry-eyed convention goers have their heads in the clouds, the police ransack more houses than criminals do, clothing with a scarlet S is popular among repentant body shamers, and shivering secretaries type letters under torrential downpours in open-roof offices. Crime, especially youth-related, is totally unknown, thanks to a well-funded police force and progressive social policies in education and welfare. Cercueil's national animal is the maggot, which teeters on the brink of extinction due to widespread deforestation, and its national religion is a major religion.

Cercueil is ranked 81,321^st in the world and 5^th in Islam for Largest Insurance Industry, scoring 2,857.9 on the Risk Expulsion Effectiveness Rating.