The Free Land of Privatore is a gargantuan, safe nation, ruled by Capitan Privatore with an even hand, and notable for its vat-grown people, pith helmet sales, and national health service. The hard-nosed, humorless population of 22.661 billion Privatoreans are fiercely patriotic and enjoy great social equality; they tend to view other, more capitalist countries as somewhat immoral and corrupt.

The tiny, corrupt government juggles the competing demands of Education, Administration, and Industry. It meets to discuss matters of state in the capital city of Privatore City. Income tax is unheard of.

The frighteningly efficient Privatorean economy, worth an astonishing 10,914 trillion Privs a year, is fairly diversified and led by the Information Technology industry, with significant contributions from Tourism, Arms Manufacturing, and Book Publishing. State-owned companies are common. Average income is an amazing 481,654 Privs, and distributed extremely evenly, with little difference between the richest and poorest citizens.

The mob vote is a crucial electoral demographic, stealing from a clothesline is a serious offence, interest rates mysteriously drop whenever the CBP Governor goes house hunting, and nephews and nieces of the monarch resort to begging from relatives in palace halls. Crime is totally unknown. Privatore's national animal is the Weasel, which is also the nation's favorite main course.

Privatore is ranked 288,590^th in the world and 4,832^nd in the South Pacific for Largest Trout Fishing Sector, scoring -9.72 on the Nemo Depletion Efficiency Index.