He makes a face, a little one, because what kind of name is Sourpatch, other than the name this one guy, this one important, essential guy, has been calling him almost as long as his mama's called him James at this point?

Frankly, this would be a great trick if it was one. If he remembered the fucking singularity prank right now, Rhodey would be all about it. But his mind's a blank.

It's still him, though, under that fog and amongst that conclusion. "Well, how the hell am I supposed to make waffles?" Always with the waffles, Rhodey. Then he pauses; he's...probably going to have to bite the bullet. This person does know him. "Fine. New question, then. Who am I?"

It's kinder than who are you, at least.