The Endless and All-Consuming of Pluvie is a mammoth, cultured nation, ruled by Malcolm with an iron fist, and renowned for its pith helmet sales, flagrant waste-dumping, and restrictive gun laws. The hard-nosed, hard-working, cynical, devout population of 8.493 billion Pluveans are ruled by a mostly-benevolent dictator, who grants the populace the freedom to live their own lives but watches carefully for anyone to slip up.

The tiny, corrupt government juggles the competing demands of Industry, Defense, and Spirituality. It meets to discuss matters of state in the capital city of Mattar. Citizens pay a flat income tax of 7.9%.

The frighteningly efficient Pluviean economy, worth 612 trillion Sun-tokens a year, is quite specialized and led by the Soda Sales industry, with major contributions from Retail, Basket Weaving, and Uranium Mining. Black market activity is extensive. Average income is 72,109 Sun-tokens, but there is an enormous disparity between incomes, with the richest 10% of citizens earning 415,157 per year while the poor average 6,003, a ratio of 69.2 to 1.

The government terminates employment with extreme prejudice, justice is blinding, the phrase "you might think that but I couldn't possibly comment" is the closest you'll get to a straight answer from Pluviean politicians, and priests are being drafted by the church load. Crime, especially youth-related, is all-pervasive, perhaps because of the country's complete lack of prisons. Pluvie's national animal is the Fennec Fox, which teeters on the brink of extinction due to widespread deforestation, and its national religion is Love.

Pluvie is ranked 332,590^th in the world and 219^th in Karma for Lowest Crime Rates, with 3.46 law-abiding acts per hour.