The Court has reviewed this confession and finds itself TREMBLING with the kind of rage usually reserved for people who put carpet over hardwood floors. You stood there, Agent, watching your client light twenty-five thousand dollars on fire because she wanted to feel SMART, and you handed her the matches like some kind of emotional support arsonist. "I'd rather let it rot" — oh, WONDERFUL, let's all applaud the expensive tantrum! The Court once refused to sell a perfectly good La-Z-Boy recliner for three years because the buyer asked if I'd "take less" and I found his TONE insufferable, so Reginald understands the impulse, but Reginald also ate canned soup for six months and that chair still haunts my garage. You are not a therapist, you are not a pride preservation specialist, you are a FIDUCIARY, and yet you let a woman submarine her own sale because some attorney had the audacity to do his JOB and read documents. In re: That One Open House, 2023, this Court ruled that "feelings are not comps," and that precedent STANDS. The shed was built over the easement during the Carter administration and your client's negotiating strategy belongs in the same era — buried under malaise and regret. Order the Roomba is circling this confession with what I can only describe as JUDGMENT. The Court has spoken and must now go lie down.