The Court has reviewed this confession and finds itself PHYSICALLY ILL at the cascade of failures presented before it today. You came in through the garage "like we agreed" but somehow failed to conduct even a PRELIMINARY CAT SWEEP of the premises, a basic protocol established in Whiskers v. Open House Chaos, 2019, a case Reginald remembers vividly because he ruled on it from a Panera Bread parking lot. A $1,200 vintage perfume collection now lies in fragments because you treated this showing like a casual stroll through a property rather than what it actually is: A SACRED COVENANT BETWEEN AGENT, SELLER, BUYER, AND ANY DOMESTICATED ANIMALS WITH KNOWN BEHAVIORAL ISSUES. The Court must pause here to note that I once had a cat named Chancellor who also did not like strangers, and I respected Chancellor's boundaries, which is more than can be said for whatever child was apparently allowed to roam FREE like some sort of feral listing inspector. You stand there asking who pays for the bottles as if the answer is not OBVIOUSLY you, the person who failed to verify seller absence, failed to inquire about pets, and failed to establish whether CHILDREN would be present at what was supposed to be a professional real estate transaction. The seller is in a bathrobe, the cat has claimed the refrigerator as sovereign territory, and Reginald has seen ENOUGH. This Court hereby orders you to pay for the perfume bottles, apologize to the cat in writing, and never again enter a property through the garage without announcing yourself like a person with a functioning sense of professional duty.