When Dr Phil says something he knows is going to stir the ant hill, he typically quips that his email is going to be burning. I hope I don't stir the ant hill too badly, but here goes.
Taxonomy, the practice of classifying living things by grouping similarities and separating differences got a much-needed organizational boost from Karl Linne, a Swede with a serious anal streak. He got so far into his latinized binomial culture, he took to calling himself Linneaus, the Latinized treatment of his name. We still use the system of Latin or Latinized binomials to describe species in scholarly discourse.
Enter the collectors. Collectors like to collect. More is better to the collector, and, in contrast with theater, less is never more. Most collectors like to collect things they feel are different from what they already have in their collections, so they give names to color variations, seasonal or regional forms, etc. to support their satisfaction in having a "complete" collection. Scholars sometimes applly a third latin name to an organism--a subspecific epithet, designating a subspecies, but as more is learned about the organism, it sometimes becomes clear that the type specimens used to designate the subspecies are nothing more than color phases or individualities. Not always, but sometimes.
An example would be Lampropeltis pyromelana woodini, the so-called Huachuca Mountain Kingsnake. Supposedly, nominate L. pyromelana pyromelana--the "pyro pyro" or just "pyro" of the collector trade, have more sets of red/black/white bands on their bodies than L. p. woodini. I have bred hundreds of pyro whatever, and I can tell you that whether you are using locality specific animals or mixing locales, the siblings from a given clutch express the full spectrum of pattern, regardless of the origin of the parents. I have seen classic "woodini" from adults collected in northern Arizona, far from the Huachuca Mts, and plenty of classic "pyro pyro" from Huachuca and Chiricahua parents.
I suspect that the potential to express the spectrum of appearances from any part of a species range, lies within every pairing. Hobbyists like to claim that the ones from this or that island or mountain range or state are more yellow, or more red, and often, selective pressure in a region does appear to favor the survival of one color phase or body type, but the raw potential to express the range of color or physicality of the species is in every pairing.
I have heard that Spilotes from one region are more likely to have stripes, or those from another region are more likely to be yellow, and I believe it. But I'm not surprised when a captive breeding produces clutch siblings that express a range of color and pattern. Perhaps not all the striped ones would survive in the "yellow zone", or none of the yellow ones would reach reproductive age in the "striped region", as whatever selective pressures assert their influence to produce our visual assessment of the adult populations in particular regions. It's in the captive breedings that we can finally begin to explore the realities behind heredity and selection, and I love it! I love the way Nature works, and sibling diversity begs the question: what, exactly, would be the selective pressure to be more yellow in a particular area? Why are adults, which are the ones we see most often in the wild, more likely to be one or another color in a given region? Do I have waayyy too much time on my hands? These and other mysteries await.