The Eternal Misfortune of Pencil Sharpeners is a colossal, cultured nation, ruled by Leader with a fair hand, and remarkable for its rum-swilling pirates, unlimited-speed roads, and enforced nudity. The hard-nosed, hard-working, democratic, humorless, devout population of 8.235 billion Pencil Sharpeners live in a state of perpetual fear, as a complete breakdown of social order has led to the rise of order through biker gangs.

There is no government in the normal sense of the word; however, a small group of community-minded, corrupt, liberal, pro-business, outspoken individuals is solely concerned with Environment. It meets to discuss matters of state in the capital city of Pencilpolis. Income tax is unheard of.

The imploded Pencil Sharpener economy, worth 46.1 billion Pencil Shavings a year, defies classification, with the entire state effectively one black market. Average income is 5 Pencil Shavings, but there is a vast disparity between incomes, with the richest 10% of citizens earning 43 per year while the poor average 0.2, a ratio of 234 to 1.

Disaster victims are viewed with disdain, a popular Pencil Sharpener saying is 'wishing upon a fallen jet engine', the Smalltopian embassy doubles as an electoral campaign headquarters, and dynamite sales and concert audiences are booming. Crime, especially youth-related, is so common that it is unusual to encounter someone following the law, perhaps because of the country's complete lack of prisons. Pencil Sharpeners's national animal is the Pencil.

Pencil Sharpeners is ranked 25,024^th in the world and 272^nd in the South Pacific for Largest Populations, with 8.23 billion Capita.