I had a deal two days from closing. Two days. The buyers had already scheduled their movers, canceled their apartment lease, and bought a new refrigerator because they didn't like the one in the kitchen. Then the lender calls and casually mentions they need one more bank statement. No big deal, right? Wrong. Turns out my buyer had deposited $8,000 in cash the week before from selling his vintage comic book collection at a convention. No receipt. No paper trail. Just a guy in a Spider-Man t-shirt who handed him cash in a parking lot. Underwriting lost their minds. They wanted a letter of explanation, photos of the comics, proof the buyer actually owned them, and I'm pretty sure they would have requested a DNA sample if they could. We scrambled for six days getting documentation together while the sellers threatened to walk and keep the earnest money. The buyer's wife wasn't even speaking to him by the end. We closed eventually, but I aged approximately fifteen years and developed a twitch whenever anyone mentions comic books.