The Republic of Two-Cent Piece is a colossal, orderly nation, remarkable for its public floggings, vat-grown people, and suspicion of poets. The hard-nosed, cynical, humorless, devout population of 4.546 billion Two-Cent Pieceans 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 medium-sized, corrupt, moralistic, well-organized government juggles the competing demands of Law & Order, Defense, and Administration. Citizens pay a flat income tax of 79.1%.

The frighteningly efficient Two-Cent Piecean economy, worth 762 trillion Courjitiziens 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 a large, well-organized, fairly diversified black market in Arms Manufacturing, Information Technology, Beef-Based Agriculture, and Furniture Restoration. 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 impressive 167,692 Courjitiziens, with the richest citizens earning 7.8 times as much as the poorest.

Mothers drive their college-graduate children to work, the nation's universities are often mistaken for foreign embassies, some are born loving old plays and some have old plays thrust upon them, and the Two-Cent Piece Automotive Racing Series draws millions of spectators annually while those near the tracks complain about the noise. Crime, especially youth-related, is totally unknown, thanks to a very well-funded police force and progressive social policies in education and welfare. Two-Cent Piece's national animal is the Cat, which frolics freely in the nation's many lush forests.

Two-Cent Piece is ranked 125,169^th in the world and 21^st in TAV Auxiliary Puppets for Largest Insurance Industry, scoring 1,630.15 on the Risk Expulsion Effectiveness Rating.