“I can second the opinion about Brian Cox. As a young graduate marketing assistant I was tasked with looking after him ahead of an awards show where he was presenting an award. The event was at a country house hotel so very rural, with no cornershops and no supermarket in the vicinity.
“Five star food and accommodation was laid on for the talent. Mr Cox (or ‘That Cunt Brian Cox’ as he is now known in our house) threw an almighty tantrum because there were no crisps on hand. We could offer a panoply of high class bar snacks but no crisps. He made me cry, my boss cry and my boss’s boss cry. Items were thrown. There was no reasoning with the fucker.
“His tantrum threatened to disrupt the whole show so, in the end, a poor harassed kitchen porter and I had to hand make crisps for him. The cunt ate one single crisp, presented his award and fucked off home.
“Not a perv though, so that was a nice change.”