The Court has reviewed this confession and finds itself PHYSICALLY ILL at the notion that an eleven-minute appraisal constitutes professional work — Reginald once spent longer deciding whether to order the soup or the salad at a Panera, and that decision actually MATTERED because the soup was cream-based and The Court is mildly lactose intolerant, a fact that has NOTHING to do with this case but demonstrates my commitment to thorough analysis, UNLIKE YOUR APPRAISER. Using fire-damaged comps is not appraisal methodology, it is ARSON BY SPREADSHEET, and I cite the landmark case of Zillow v. Anyone With Functioning Eyes, 2022, in which the court held that "parameters" is indeed code for "I have already closed my laptop and I am watching television." The tragic irony that this man's incompetence created a self-fulfilling prophecy of depreciation is not lost on The Court — he did not predict the market, he POISONED it, much like my ex-wife poisoned my opinion of timeshare presentations, but that is a matter for another docket. You, confessor, are guilty only of bearing witness to this travesty without flipping a table, which frankly shows remarkable restraint that Reginald does not possess and does not respect. The gavel has spoken and I must now go lie down because this ruling has given me heartburn.