"Is...is Drake in?" Patricia stammered at last. She was clearly very surprised by the sight of the hulking, mostly-nude behemoth that stood in the doorway.
"That's me," Drake replied, "I'm Drake."
"This has got to be some sort of joke..." she began. Then she got a good look at his face. "Holy Shit! It is you!"
"Yeah," grinned Drake, a bit sheepish about the whole thing, "I've changed a little."
"A little? You look like the freaking incredible hulk!"
"Well, yeah..."
She scrutinized him closely. "Drake? Are you growing?"
"Aw shit," Drake replied. "Hey, could you help me out by pulling my socks off?"
Pat stared at him a moment. "Sure, why not?" she finally replied, "nothing else makes sense."
Drake flopped to the floor, and stuck his feet out. Pat came in and closed the door, and bent down. It took some effort, but finally each sock was removed. Drake wiggled his toes, and let out a deep sigh of relief.
"Thanks, Pat, I owe you one."
"Damn right," she replied, "you owe me an explanation!"