Karl-Heinz is a grumpy old man.  And we mean really old.  Here in the studio we guess it must be over 387 years, but we don’t dare to saw him in two to count the annual rings.  He even resembles a worn-out, mossy treetrunk in his dark brown-green furry coat that makes it difficult to detect where his beard ends and his clothes start.  He spends most of his days shuffling through the hallways, grunting, moaning, wailing, complaining about about everything in this wonderful world.  In his opinion the entire universe was created for the sole purpose of making his life miserable.  He hates midges (especially the Scottish biting kind).  He hates butterflies as well, as they remind him of the happiness, that humans tend to experience whenever butterflies flutter around the colourful flowers on a sunny spring afternoon.  He hates humans too.