The Colony of Beavan is a massive, efficient nation, remarkable for its barren, inhospitable landscape, national health service, and punitive income tax rates. The hard-nosed, cynical, humorless, devout population of 1.782 billion Beavanians 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 enormous, corrupt, moralistic, well-organized government juggles the competing demands of Administration, Law & Order, and Defense. The average income tax rate is 81.9%, and even higher for the wealthy.

The frighteningly efficient Beavanian economy, worth 219 trillion pounds 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 an enormous, deeply entrenched black market in Arms Manufacturing, Uranium Mining, Woodchip Exports, and Door-to-door Insurance Sales. 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 122,645 pounds, and evenly distributed, with the richest citizens earning only 2.5 times as much as the poorest.

Children making baking soda volcanos are questioned by the police, barbers who trim a few inches of hair bill the government for their labor, students memorise knock-knock jokes for their mandatory twice-a-term Comedy Examinations, and truancy officers have a hard time catching children trained in advanced camouflage skills. Crime, especially youth-related, is totally unknown, thanks to the all-pervasive police force and progressive social policies in education and welfare. Beavan's national animal is the turtle, which teeters on the brink of extinction due to heavy metals seepage into national waterways.

Beavan is ranked 188,680^th in the world and 252^nd in Federation Of Sovereign States for Rudest Citizens, with 42.92 insults per minute.