I remember the floor in my parents house looked like your stock. When I was 13, I had just watched Ronin, and I thought car chases were the coolest thing ever. Playing with my matchbox cars wasn't enough. Luckily, my parents, the police, and my neighbor, all still think it was the kid down the street. My dad had a 1968 Shelby GT500 in the garage, and I knew where he kept the keys. He thought I had no idea about his little stash drawer in his closet, but I went through that shit all the time. He kept his weed, porn, even his gun in there. I still have no idea where he kept his bowl for the weed, though. It was never in that stash drawer, which made me think there was an even more secret stash drawer somewhere. I checked everywhere in the goddamn house, even up in the attic. When I was in the attic, I made a shocking discovery. My remote controlled race track set my parents got me for Christmas WASN'T broken. They told me it broke and they had to return it. I later found out that it was just too loud and annoying so they lied to me about it and hid it from me. Fuck them.