The Holy Brit of Wymondham is a colossal, cultured nation, ruled by Wym with an iron fist, and remarkable for its ubiquitous missile silos, free-roaming dinosaurs, and absence of drug laws. The hard-nosed, hard-working, cynical population of 7.249 billion Wymondhamians are proud of their wide-ranging civil freedoms, and those who aren't tend to be dragged off the streets by men in dark suits and hustled into cars with tinted windows.

The medium-sized, corrupt, liberal, well-organized government juggles the competing demands of Education, Defense, and Industry. It meets to discuss matters of state in the capital city of Old Wymondham. The average income tax rate is 45.0%, but much higher for the wealthy.

The frighteningly efficient Wymondhamian economy, worth 766 trillion Scarabs a year, is broadly diversified and led by the Tourism industry, with major contributions from Arms Manufacturing, Information Technology, and Book Publishing. Average income is an impressive 105,748 Scarabs, and evenly distributed, with the richest citizens earning only 3.0 times as much as the poorest.

The fire protection service is wholly government-funded, anyone with a tin cup can stop by the welfare office to have it filled with coins, murderers and thieves claim divine inspiration to avoid prosecution, and citizens have to dodge their neighbors' drones while getting the morning paper. Crime, especially youth-related, is totally unknown, thanks to a capable police force and progressive social policies in education and welfare. Wymondham's national animal is the Wombat, which is also the nation's favorite main course.

Wymondham is ranked 60,841^st in the world and 2,247^th in Osiris for Nudest, with 171.25 Cheeks Per Square Mile.