What Country are YOU?
By ChouChou

Unsure where your boundaries lie? Separatists giving you a bad day? Lacking identity in a world plunged into ethnic crisis? If so, perhaps YOU need to take the Sinocidal Patented Nationality Test to find out which country you are. The Sinocidal Patented Nationality Test is the only method endorsed by the United Nations guaranteed to inform confused nations on their official diplomatically recognised title. Just read some of the following endorsements:

“For years I thought I was just the 51st state of America, but after taking the Sinocidal Patented Nationality Test I actually realised I wasn’t!”
– Canada.

“I used to be a sad, overweight, depressed Yugoslavian Republic, but thanks to the Sinocidal Patented Nationality Test, I dumped my allied nations and became a size 10!”
– Bosnia Herzegovina.

“I was so overjoyed when the Sinocidal Patented Nationality Test told me that my population were God’s Chosen People that I went out and attacked the Lebanon!”
– Israel.

So grab your pencils, repress your minorities, and get ready to find out what country are YOU! *
(* The Sinocidal Patented Nationality Test is not responsible for any resulting civil wars, foreign invasions, or attacks from Godzilla)

Question One: How do you allow your citizens to top-up their mobile phones?
A: A simple and easy to use combination of customer accounts, top-up cards, and access points in most convenience stores across the nation.
B: A similar combination of customer accounts and top-up cards, but with the added bonus of making it virtually impossible to add money to your phone once you are outside the city where you registered your phone. So, if some poor resident from Qingdao has to go to Shanghai for two weeks to renew his passport, he’ll find his phone is practically useless because he can’t buy the correct cards and the only suggestion he gets from the staff in China fucking Mobile is “Make sure you have enough money on your phone for your time outside your city.” Well, guess what? I had plenty of money on my wax-covered telephone, but because you charge double for making or receiving any calls once you step one foot outside of your respective city, that money drains away like the happiness in my heart drained away when I first set foot in this country.
C: Your citizens don’t have telephones; they prefer to communicate via magic crystals and flying griffin couriers.

Question Two: How do your citizens pay their electricity bills?
A: Most people pay through direct debit accounts, though other options like paying by cheque or ready cash over the counter are also acceptable for elderly citizens.
B: Have a completely different system for every single city and town within your boundaries, so that there is never any way a mortal person could get too comfortable. In one certain city, implement a system where you can only pay by bankbook and refuse actual money even when it is waved beneath a teller’s nose. However, create the computer system so badly that it breaks down for about three months continuously, thus preventing anybody from paying their electricity bill even if they want to. Do absolutely nothing for three months to get the system back online, but continue to refuse customer’s ready cash and pleas for clemency. Hopefully this will result in a situation where somebody is unable to pay his bill for months, goes to Shanghai for two weeks to renew his passport, and comes back to find his power cut off. The fucking cunts.
C: The only electricity in your country is contained within a magical lamppost that shows the way to a gateway leading towards the World of Man.

Question Three: How do your people keep warm?
A: Radiators, central heating, warm insulation, double glazing, and cups of tea. Except for students, who prefer to do their coursework in launderettes and save the heating money for cans of cider and tobacco paper.
B: For starters, completely disregard everybody who lives in the south. Everybody knows that the south is warmer than the north, so why bother providing heating facilities anywhere, despite the fact that for the last 5000 years winters below the Yangtze have all dipped below zero. So when a poor guy is stuck on a friend’s floor in Shanghai for two weeks waiting for a new passport (and the reason why he is forced to stay on the floor is because you have a policy of not allowing people to check into hotels or fly back to their towns of residence while they might be temporarily without identification), he’ll be so cunting cold that his balls contract deep into his body and begin to poke out of his anus. And the north? Well, you’re not for one moment going to allow your citizens the freedom of controlling their own heating, so you decide when they can and cannot be warm. Except they won’t be warm anyway, because when your corrupt engineers come round to check the boilers, they deliberately don’t fix them properly so you have to call them round again and pay them more money. Is it any wonder why most people choose to walk around looking like the bastard son of the Michelin Man and the Pillsbury Dough Boy?
C: It has been difficult to keep warm since the wintry curse of the White Witch, but most beavers build fires from the wood they collect.

Question Four: What happens when a burglary occurs in your land?
A: The unfortunate victims would contact the police, and claim the losses from their insurance if they possessed any.
B: Encourage your inept police force to investigate the recent series of robberies, not by tracking down the criminals and bringing them to justice, but by sticking a notice up on the front door of every compound asking residents to report any foreigners who might be living in the area unregistered. Not only does this ensure local residents automatically connect the recent break-ins to any unlucky foreigners living in the vicinity, but it also ensures that any foreigners returning from a two-week passport application in Shanghai are greeted by screaming neighbours banging on their door and a pointless few hours down the police station whilst they check my documentation. Add to this the alarm when the police discover that the foreigner’s passport number has now changed, and you’ve got a fairly typical example of the needless and crippling bureaucratic nightmare which consists of so much of my life right now.
C: The beloved King Aslan would be asked to sacrifice himself for your sins on an ancient stone table.

Question Five: If one of your citizens is in a foreign country and needs a new passport, what do they do?
A: Spend more than two soul-destroying weeks shivering on a friend’s floor in Shanghai because the whole process does not take seven days like you advertised on your consulate’s website.
B: God only knows. Probably something involving agreeing to be anally buggered for thirty uninterrupted years and sacrificing your first born to a portrait of Karl Marx.
C: Passports are unnecessary because most travel is conducted through magical wardrobes and pictures of boats hanging in the bedrooms of upper-middle-class Victorian children.

How did you do?

Mostly A’s: You are the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. Your favourite colour is blue and you enjoy making model aircraft at the weekends. Basically, you’re not such a bad guy, though you could probably improve your image by nailing the popular tit-model Jordan to a wooden cross and sealing it within a coffin filled with broken glass.

Mostly B’s: You are the People’s Republic of China. Your favourite colour is student blood red and you enjoy sushi at weekends. In order to increase your economic development, it is strongly recommended that you vacuum seal anybody connected to the financial, communication, legal, medical and political professions into a 27 kilometre high nuclear dildo and fire it into the sun.

Mostly C’s: You are the magical land of Narnia. You don’t actually exist except in the head of a crusty Victorian academic from the late 1800s who was possibly gay.

Mostly D’s: You’re doing the wrong quiz mate. Either that or you’re Belgium.