[...]
During a Forbidden Planet party one night at UKCAC I was propping up the bar after several pints when Dez [Skinn] ambled over, equally sozzled, and the talk turned to Alan.
"Listen Dez," I ventured, "the British comic industry isn't big enough for this falling out. It needs Alan working in Warrior. You must sort out your differences."
He was nodding sagely at this as Alan arrived in the pub in the company of Karen Berger, who'd just taken him out for dinner, having headhunted him for DC.
"Look," I said to Dez, "there's Alan. Now's your chance! Go over and make it up with him!"
He looked at me, determined.
"By God! You're right! I'll do!" he said and strode over to Alan, who stopped stock still and stared stonily down at him from his great hairy height.
"Alan," Dez began, "I'm sorry if I've done anything to offend you. We need to continue our work together. Let's put aside our differences. Let's be friends."
Alan regarded him gravely.
"Dez," he rumbled.
"Yes?"
"Fuck off."