I casually walk into the 'oh,so familiar,' room of nostalgia. I continue glancing around the room and suddenly it begins to feel a bit too familiar, as my gaze makes its way towards the torture racks, shackled tables, hand cuffed bed frames, and all the 'tools of the trade' that clutter the room among the various other pieces of furniture. At first a mischievous smirk forms across my lips, but as other memories pass through my devious mind I slightly shutter. "Home sweet home I guess," I remark with a shrug, while a stand in the very center of the room.