The Court has reviewed the evidence and finds itself PHYSICALLY ILL at the sheer audacity of subtweeting a client on a platform where she FOLLOWS YOU. Twenty-three likes. TWENTY-THREE. Your mother accounted for 4.3% of your engagement, and that percentage cost you a listing. This Court once posted a ruling about "agents who don't respect the sanctity of the gavel" and my cousin Harold—who I had SPECIFICALLY ruled against for bringing store-bought coleslaw to Thanksgiving—saw it and now family dinners are "complicated," so Reginald UNDERSTANDS the pain of the pointed post, but at least I had the decency to lose a FAMILY MEMBER, not a COMMISSION. The sister with the screenshot is now a hostile witness in perpetuity, and "we're thinking about our options" is the real estate equivalent of "we need to talk," which is the relationship equivalent of "your Honor, I'd like to represent myself." The Court notes that 47 days on market at $75k over is its own punishment, but YOU managed to make yourself the villain of someone ELSE'S overpricing delusion, which takes genuine talent. I sentence you to never posting anything more controversial than a picture of a key until 2027, and I am now late for a mediation between Order the Roomba and my kitchen island, which he claims "provoked" him.