The Republic of Old Masters is a gargantuan, socially progressive nation, renowned for its barren, inhospitable landscape, suspicion of poets, and spontaneously combusting cars. The hard-working, democratic population of 10.665 billion Old Mastersians 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 tiny, liberal, pro-business, outspoken government juggles the competing demands of Defense, Healthcare, and Welfare. Citizens pay a flat income tax of 6.7%.

The strong Old Mastersian economy, worth 500 trillion gergers a year, is driven almost entirely by the private sector, which is broadly diversified and led by the Door-to-door Insurance Sales industry, with major contributions from Uranium Mining, Beef-Based Agriculture, and Information Technology. Average income is 46,901 gergers, but there is an enormous disparity between incomes, with the richest 10% of citizens earning 272,368 per year while the poor average 3,826, a ratio of 71.2 to 1.

Foreign musicians that Leader dislikes are turned away at the border, all statues and paintings of dogs are being destroyed to avoid offending cat-lovers, the reams of paperwork accompanying any electronic item are a recognised contributor to national deforestation, and many Old Mastersians twitch nervously at the sight of nuns. Crime is a serious problem, probably because of the absence of a police force. Old Masters's national animal is the ergerger, which can occasionally be seen sifting through garbage in the nation's cities.

Old Masters is ranked 208,055^th in the world and 8,391^st in Balder for Highest Foreign Aid Spending, scoring -4.47 on the Clooney Contribution Index.