The Galactic Trade Conglomerate of PapaDracky is a gargantuan, socially progressive nation, ruled by King CREAM with a fair hand, and notable for its ubiquitous missile silos, enslaved workforce, and public floggings. The hard-nosed, hard-working, democratic, humorless population of 12.023 billion Drackonians live in a state of perpetual fear, as a complete breakdown of social order has led to the rise of order through biker gangs.

The minute, corrupt, liberal, pro-business government, or what there is of one, is solely concerned with Industry. It meets to discuss matters of state in the capital city of Tower of Consumption. Income tax is unheard of.

The frighteningly efficient PapaDrackyian economy, worth a remarkable 6,971 trillion Credits a year, is driven almost entirely by the private sector, which is broadly diversified and led by the Retail industry, with major contributions from Information Technology, Gambling, and Soda Sales. Average income is a breathtaking 579,843 Credits, but there is a vast disparity between incomes, with the richest 10% of citizens earning 5,430,963 per year while the poor average 5,218, a ratio of 1,040 to 1.

A faint smell of body odour can be detected at several miles' distance from the National Science Park, the government struggles to keep up with the endless list of petrol disasters, seafood restaurants assure customers 'If it lives in the sea, it's on our menu', and baby boys who pick up pink crayons are sent to a psychiatric ward. Crime, especially youth-related, is so common that it is unusual to encounter someone following the law, perhaps because of the country's complete lack of prisons. PapaDracky's national animal is the Elcor, which is also the nation's favorite main course, and its national religion is Profitism.

PapaDracky is ranked 11^th in the world and 1^st in Papastan for Largest Retail Industry, scoring 87,388.18 on the Shrinkwrap Consignment Productivity Index.