Ian is a billionaire 6 times over. Looking into the mirror each morning he is relieved to find the face of a capitalist shark staring back at him. When he's not ruining the world with devious fiscal stratagies, he's deafening it with his sledgehammer drumming. Ian is currently applying for planning permission to buy Nottingham and build a big garage on it to keep his drums in.
In his sprawling Victorian mansion, Ian rises in the late afternoon and brushes his teeth in champagne. He calls down to his drum butler to set up his kit and then spends two hours practising pieces in the mathematically improbable time signatures he will never have the chance to use in Moose Malloy. The rest of the day and night is spent tracking down the <5% of he world population to whom he has yet to sell a dodgy ISA. He sleeps the sleep of the rich, dreaming peacefully of endless human misery from which he can make more money.