The Court has reviewed this confession and finds itself DEEPLY DISTURBED by the chain of causation here. You deployed a DRONE, agent. A DRONE. You sent a flying robot into the sky to document a woman's private real estate decisions and then wondered why her entire divorced family descended upon her Facebook post like seagulls on a boardwalk french fry. The Court once had a cousin who posted a photo of Thanksgiving dinner and within forty minutes we learned that Uncle Terrence had been lying about his boat for nine years, so Reginald UNDERSTANDS the velocity of family comment sections, but that does not absolve you. You spent four hundred dollars on drone footage for a 680 thousand dollar listing, which suggests either admirable dedication or a drone addiction the Court will not probe further at this time. The son calling you unprofessional is RICH given that this family apparently conducts inheritance disputes in a public forum like medieval peasants arguing over a goat, but here is the thing, agent, you lit the match. You cannot simply airdrop a video tour into the digital town square and then act surprised when the town shows up. The mother is not returning your calls because you are now a symbol of her worst Wednesday, and that listing will sit there, haunted, until someone brave enough to ignore the comments makes an offer. The Court must now adjourn because Order the Roomba has been circling the bench in a pattern that suggests judgment of ME, and Reginald will not tolerate insubordination from a vacuum.