The Court has reviewed this confession and finds itself in the EXTRAORDINARY position of wanting to bang the gavel so hard it cracks the bench, not at the accused, but at the AUDACITY of this nephew situation. Fifty-eight days. FIFTY-EIGHT DAYS of your marketing, your open houses, your professionally staged throw pillows, and some kid who got licensed while you were already deep in the trenches just waltzes in to collect twelve thousand dollars like he is picking up a DoorDash order. The Court once had a cousin attempt to claim credit for Reginald's prize-winning azalea arrangement at a family reunion, and I did not speak to that branch of the family for six years, so I UNDERSTAND the depths of this betrayal. You did not send the comps, and the nephew had the UNMITIGATED GALL to ask for them, as if you are some kind of mentorship program and not a professional who just got financially kneecapped by bloodline favoritism. Is it petty? Perhaps. Is it a proportionate response to losing twelve thousand dollars to a man whose real estate experience could be measured in WEEKS? The Court finds it practically restrained. Your AC has been broken since AUGUST, the seller has chosen chaos, and The Court hereby rules that you are guilty only of being too gracious in even answering that phone call. Reginald must now adjourn to scream into a decorative pillow about the state of listing protection periods.