Gwipshon, yo
"Gwipshon, yo", said the wobbly flooring installer, as he shook his head in disgust. A seam was unseemly, seemingly sewn sorrily, yet oddly in keeping with other features of the house. Mangled soffits, rust streaks down the siding, gouges on every conceivable surface, water in the basement... rumors circulated around the project that this 1.9 million dollar boondoggle must be built over a Native American burial ground that had been used at various times for Voodoo, Satanic rites, Wiccan rituals, Viking ceremonies, and was even a portal to the dimension beyond all the Hells, the place of repose of the Old Ones, bringers of the Madness that all men fear.
"Gwipshon" is a manner of describing the degree to which two materials, when pressed against one another, will move in response to opposing lateral forces. It is an anti-force of nature, measured in "gwiptometers" metric, and "foot-pounds per gwip" SAE. This technical term is specific to flooring and auto mechanics as practiced by a secret elect in the Greater Lowell Area.
First discovered by the Viking wood floor refinisher Dewi Antit, gwipshon was observed often by special operations flooring forces operating in Finland and Russia. As Mongolian warriors "capped yaks in the ass, yo", Antit and his ragged band would observe through pickle binoculars. They noticed that when a piece of oak was placed against a piece of plastic, they slid back and forth easily. Thus, no gwipshon.
An obvious solution was construction adhesive, but crews would bitch that it was too difficult to take apart. Replacing the piece of plastic with a piece of wood increased gwipshon, and was the standard for building codes in Europe from 902 to 1587, when the Freemasons started wearing gaudy sweaters.
Thus, "gwipshon, yo" is the answer to the eternal question, "why isn't that part of the floor just sliding away?"