Decades ago, we landed at night in the winter. The apron was very icy, and taxiing would have been difficult, other than the Cheyenne had beta, so taxi speed and direction could be very precisely controlled without being completely dependent upon brakes and nosewheel steering. The apron in front the terminal had all kinds of room, but an eager marshaller insisted upon marshalling us into a specific place. He was more a danger to himself, than helping me, as he was slipping and sliding while trying to walk backwards on patches of ice. He was not staying far enough away from the plane for my liking, and it was beginning to take too long. So I stopped the plane with a burst of reverse, which forced him away, and to seek better footing. Then he stood by the wall, and let me finish parking on my own!