The Democratic Republic of 111 is a titanic, environmentally stunning nation, remarkable for its public floggings, pith helmet sales, and lack of airports. The hard-nosed, cynical, humorless, devout population of 20.121 billion ones 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 government juggles the competing demands of Law & Order, Education, and Industry. Citizens pay a flat income tax of 36.7%.

The frighteningly efficient 111ian economy, worth a remarkable 3,355 trillion ones 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, broadly diversified black market in Arms Manufacturing, Tourism, Information Technology, and Beef-Based Agriculture. 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 166,767 ones, but there is a significant disparity between incomes, with the richest 10% of citizens earning 537,242 per year while the poor average 39,179, a ratio of 13.7 to 1.

Street crime is on the rise as police officers spend most of their time in prisons, snowball fights inaugurate summer breaks, citizens often glare angrily at jet contrails, and a sincere statement of belief can get you out of anything. Crime, especially youth-related, is totally unknown, thanks to a capable police force and progressive social policies in education and welfare. 111's national animal is the one, which frolics freely in the nation's many lush forests.

111 is ranked 84,966^th in the world and 2^nd in Denver Broncos for Largest Publishing Industry, scoring 3,840.02 on the Bella Potter Productivity e-Index.