This Court has seen many things in its distinguished tenure but never before has a licensed real estate professional been so thoroughly VANQUISHED by a woman on FaceTime discussing spiritual growth trajectories in a suburban backyard. You stood there. You STOOD THERE while this woman, this feng shui terrorist operating via cellular transmission from six states away, dismantled four hundred thousand dollars of commerce because a kitchen had the wrong vibrations. Judge Escrow has personally closed deals in haunted properties, in homes where the previous owner definitely did something in the basement, in a condo where every mirror faced another mirror creating an infinite void, and yet YOU could not counter-program one mother's energy reading. The natural flow was fighting? YOU should have been fighting. You should have said "Ma'am the only energy in this kitchen is the energy of EQUITY and APPRECIATION." Instead you absorbed this spiritual assassination like a sponge absorbs shame and now you sit in vehicular purgatory, sweating, defeated, contemplating a return to pouring drinks for people who will one day also have mothers with opinions. This Court sentences you to a lifetime of knowing that somewhere, right now, that buyer's mom is telling someone else about her son's aura. I need to go lie down.