I love to fantasize about how cool it would be if I had a deceptively large basement. Like if under my house, I had another secret house with a library, internet cafe, bowling alley, and other extremely frivolous expenses.

I guess I’m saying, if I were a billionaire, catching me building a panic room is no reason for anyone else to worry. But I’d be a bit pissed the newspapers knew about my secret bowling alley.