The Court is APOPLECTIC. You stood there with ACTUAL COMPS — real transactions conducted by real humans exchanging real American dollars — and you let a buyer with a HIGHLIGHTED PRINTOUT bully your seller into submission? Reginald once attempted to subpoena a Zestimate as a hostile witness in the matter of In re: That One Open House Where The Basement Smelled Like Soup, 2023, and the algorithm REFUSED TO APPEAR because it has no corporeal form and NO ACCOUNTABILITY. That is what you surrendered to. A ghost. A mathematical specter that has never once touched a water heater or noticed that the previous owners installed bidets in BOTH bathrooms. The finished basement meant NOTHING to the machine because the machine cannot experience the quiet joy of a well-organized storage area, and frankly neither can my ex-wife Darlene, but The Court digresses. You had three comps. THREE. The sacred trinity of real estate jurisprudence. And you folded like a lawn chair at a foreclosure auction because some buyer treated a Zestimate like it was handed down from Mount Sinai on a tablet. The robot did not win — YOU simply refused to fight, and that is somehow worse. This Court hereby sentences you to one hour of staring at a Redfin estimate that contradicts Zillow by forty thousand dollars while contemplating the meaninglessness of algorithmic certainty. Reginald must now go lie down.