Carpe Demon

Drake woke up in his own bed by some good fortune. He patted down his body to make sure everything was where it should be (not that things had been missing over the weekend, but he just wanted to be sure he was Drake-Drake and not a dragon drake or Drake Mallard or Ludwig Von Drake or anything like that now), then got up and flung open the window.

"All right," he yelled at the island. "The wackiness and the gremlin bites and the man your man could smell like are kind of fun and all, but making me get in the way of True Love? Not cool, Island. You and I are going to have words."

Drake had priorities.