Plane, plain crackers

I received a phone call this afternoon:

Mr Sheppard?

Yes...

I have a complaint. You are in serious trouble!

(shit) Eh?

Were you on the M5 on 31st of May?

I don't know... I might have been (bloody hell!)

I want you to proceed to your nearest police station!

Gulp. What's this about? Who is this?

It's Peter Bates! (manic laughter)

Pete you rascal.
I thought the following in quick succession: Photo mag editor (telling me I'd won a prize - oh the vulnerability of ego); A disgruntled local resident (I heard a paraglider landed on the main road last week); The bloke who's car I hit (allegedly) a few months back; A road crash victim I'd unwittingly left in my wake.
Anyway Pete - you said you wanted a biscuit blip so here you are.

Crackers.