The Republic of Dreamsinker is a titanic, orderly nation, notable for its deadly medical pandemics, enslaved workforce, and restrictive gun laws. The hard-nosed, cynical, humorless, devout population of 21.591 billion Dreamsinkerians 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, Industry, and Defense. It meets to discuss matters of state in the capital city of Sink. The average income tax rate is 92.9%, and even higher for the wealthy.

The frighteningly efficient Dreamsinkerian economy, worth a remarkable 4,517 trillion marks 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, quite specialized black market in Uranium Mining, Woodchip Exports, Furniture Restoration, and Basket Weaving. 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 amazing 209,232 marks, and evenly distributed, with the richest citizens earning only 2.3 times as much as the poorest.

It is illegal to liberate slaves, cheese has been labelled a dangerous weapon and banned, the Foreign Ministry thinks an eye for an eye is a blindingly good idea, and Brancalandian Brie isn't available anywhere in Dreamsinker. Crime is moderate, perhaps because of the country's complete lack of prisons. Dreamsinker's national animal is the turtle, which teeters on the brink of extinction due to heavy metals seepage into national waterways.

Dreamsinker is ranked 299,150^th in the world and 2^nd in Occupied Mars for Lowest Overall Tax Burden, scoring -271.27 on the Hayek Index.