Sven Kilchenmann, a spoilt, bitchy, sulky princess if ever there was one. Perpetually complained about all the spots in Ireland when he was there on tour, whinging that "In my country we have marble ledges that go on for kilometres and kilometres" when brought anywhere with a less than MACBA-like appearance. And brought his Playstation on the tour, locking himself into his hotel room every night to avoid socialising with any local skaters. A prize cunt of epic proportions about whom I'm yet to hear anybody say anything good.