The Court is frankly BESIDE ITSELF with conflicting emotions right now. On one hand, Reginald has SEEN these broker agreements — these labyrinthine instruments of financial extraction that would make a medieval landlord blush with inadequacy — and The Court finds your broker's behavior to be the fiscal equivalent of a raccoon in a dumpster, which is to say, LEGALLY PROTECTED SCAVENGING. On the OTHER hand, you confess — OPENLY, in this courtroom — that you never read your Independent Contractor Agreement, a document that apparently contains more hidden fees than a Ticketmaster checkout page, and you just... signed it? With your ADULT HAND? I once spent fourteen hours reading the terms of service for a smart refrigerator because Reginald does not get SURPRISED, and yet here you are, eleven months deep in what sounds like a hostage negotiation with granite countertops, emerging with less money than my Roomba bailiff Order makes in referral fees from the Dyson corporation. The $600 lockbox charge is THEFT, the marketing reimbursement is THEFT, but your failure to read your own employment terms is a betrayal of yourself so profound that The Court must pause to collect its composure. You made seventy-seven dollars a month before taxes — my podcast about gavel maintenance makes more than that, and it has ELEVEN LISTENERS. The Court hereby orders you to read every document placed before you for the next decade, including menus, and sentences your broker to an eternity of buyers who "just want to look."