If you’re reading this, congratulations! You are about to
embark on a journey of wonder, discovery, and unbelievable psychological and
physical trauma as you explore the unnatural beauty and primordial evil of the
Glorious Nation of Hurtsville. Let’s get a few basics out of the way, so that
Hurtsville might better insinuate itself into the very core of your being,
using you as a host to spread its seeds into the world of Man in inefficient
but deliciously subversive and violating fashion.
Well then.
Hurtsville. Where is it? What is it? The answer is, of
course, convoluted. Hurtsville is a pandimensional city-state, a bustling
metropolis under the tyrannical rule of The Foiler. Like your
typical mystical settlement, Hurtsville is unreachable by conventional means,
and the whirling mists that make up its barriers can only be traversed, or even
seen, if The Foiler expressly wills it to be so.
Currently on the lam in central Indiana, the Glorious Nation
of Hurtsville is quite mobile, although there are quite a lot of winches and intricate systems of pulleys involved in transporting a vaguely-sized city, its inhabitants,
building, infrastructure, and the surrounding lands from one realm to the next.
Hurtsville is also something of a contradiction, hosting specialized technology
far advanced than that in use by lesser beings, particularly non-Hurtsvillian
humans, but at the same time lacking the associated modern cancers of society
like ‘democracy’, ‘equality’ and ‘human rights’.
Trade relations in Hurtsville contribute favorably to our
eternal surplus of wealth; in addition to interdimensional trade of goods and
services, Hurtsville has a veritable monopoly on shipping with a number of
other worlds, many of which are populated by tentacled monstrosities and/or
societies based around mid-20th century character archetypes.
Hurtsville is also home to the Quaker Meats Company, the universe’s unrivalled
leader in questionable canned foodstuffs.
The population generally falls between 65,535 and 999,999,
although it can vary quite a bit depending on just where Hurtsville
materializes and what may or may not be considered sentient life in said
location; as we will cover further in our upcoming series on the flora and
fauna of Hurtsville, there are quite a few chatty Cathys in this most unique of
lands, and not all of them are bipedal.
Public transportation is the main method of commute in
Hurtsville, consisting mainly of a rapid-transit trolley line and a series of
strategically-oriented catapults. Automobiles are rare, as the streets of
Hurtsville are as narrow as a medieval village owing to our strict policy of
having as many alleyways as possible.
Government in the Glorious Nation of Hurtsville is a pretty
straightforward affair, a welcome contrast to the veiled corruption and
indolent bureaucracy found in the world of Man. The Foiler acts as tyrannical
dictator, as well as the creator and founder of the land. While he (really,
‘it’) employs a veritable army of administrators and legislators, The Foiler is
the only voice of authority in the Glorious Nation, ruling by his whim and the
fact that his nigh-infinite power can easily transform any dissenters into a
plate of eggplant rollatini. Despite appearances, the citizens of Hurtsville
enjoy the highest quality of life, if not the longest actual lifespans. The Foiler, being of primordial darkness that he is, has no vices he
cannot sate through his own power, and seems to consider government as something
akin to a strategy game.
Foiler Fact: the ‘do not disturb’ sign on The Foiler’s office
reads ‘reticulating splines’.
This is all just scratching the surface of the rich and
brutal history of the Glorious Nation of Hurtsville. Stay tuned for further
installments, and be sure to send your questions and topic requests. I am quite
literally required to answer, lest my skin be removed and made into a sporty
windbreaker, so feel free!
-Kip Casper, Semi-Official Hurtsville Minister of Records
and Barista
*usage of verbs, nouns, and/or
adjectives subject to interpretation by The Foiler
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