CF: I’m here for my Ranger
OP: You're here for what?
CF: My Ranger
OP: I have no idea what you're talking about.
CF: My truck.
OP (with tinkly laugh): Oh, is that what it is? I thought it was a (insert name of least prestigious model of trcuk). These pick-ups are so common and they all look the same, I can't tell one from another. Now let me see if I can find the keys to the gate.
(OP wanders off, silently chuckling, pours and drinks a glass of wine while making rummaging noises, and muttering "Now where did I leave them?" just loud enough for CF to hear)
Several minutes pass.
OP reappears with keys to gate, walks over to the drive, unlocks and opens gate. Stands by open gate and smiles sweetly.
CF: You'll need to move your truck so I can get out;
OP (more tinkly laughter): Oh dear, silly me. I'll just get the keys.
(OP wanders back to the house, more rummaging noises and muttering. Landline rings, OP answers. OP embarks on long conversation, possibly imaginary, giving full details of both carvery lunches, CF who blocked the drive and promised to be 5 minutes but was gone 3 days, FC who were going to come and tow it away if it was still there tomorrow, health and marriage prospects of DB etc etc, for a full 30 minutes before returning to the drive.)
OP: Sorry, that was a long minute. But nowhere near as long as your 5 minutes, was it? (gives a Paddington stare)
OP: You won't park here again, will you? (spoken with an undertone of meance).
OP gets in truck, moves it along lane and sits impatiently revving engine while CF reverses "the Ranger" out onto the road.
As he drives off, OP sticks her hand out of the window of her truck, and gives him the finger.