The Court has reviewed this confession and finds itself PHYSICALLY ILL with recognition because Reginald once did something similar with a breakfast buffet — kept going back for bacon knowing full well the elastic waistband had reached its limit, and we all paid the price that afternoon. You KNEW this man was financially teetering on the edge like a decorative vase on a poorly mounted floating shelf, and yet you kept dragging him through houses at the tippy-top of his range because bigger house equals bigger check equals YOU get to feel like a real estate professional instead of what you actually are: a CHAOS MERCHANT in business casual. Six days of panic attacks! SIX DAYS this man lay awake at 3 AM staring at his ceiling fan wondering if he was a failure, and you created that psychological weather system because basic arithmetic felt inconvenient! This Court has seen greed before — I once watched a man at a Panera try to refill a water cup with lemonade FOUR TIMES — but this is something worse, this is weaponized optimism deployed against someone who trusted you with the largest purchase of his life. The seller relisted, the buyer is probably still flinching every time he sees a Redfin notification, and you walk away having learned WHAT exactly? As established in Conscience v. Commission Structure, 2019, "a fiduciary who ignores the word maxed deserves to have that word tattooed on their forehead in reverse so they see it every morning." The gavel falls, Order the Roomba is circling ominously, and Reginald must now go sit with what he has learned about breakfast buffets.