The Court has reviewed this confession and frankly, Reginald needs a moment because THE INSIDE OF A THERMOS is now seared into my judicial consciousness forever. You stood in an airport, a liminal space of transition and possibility, and you PERMITTED this woman to transform a sellable home into what can only be described as a swamp fever dream. The precedent is clear from Henderson v. That One Client Who Installed A Koi Pond In The Bathroom, 2019: an agent who fails to physically block paint cans is an agent complicit in chromatic terrorism. She saw it in a MAGAZINE. Do you know what else is in magazines? Advertisements for medication with seventeen minutes of side effects. Recipes involving fondant. LIES, counsel, LIES WRAPPED IN GLOSSY PAPER. And then, THEN, she asks about the warm yellow, as if warm yellow is a legally recognized Pantone designation and not just something people say when they want to inflict sunshine violence on drywall. You let this woman spend two thousand dollars learning a lesson The Court's mother tried to teach me about my brief lavender blazer phase in 1987, which is that SOME COLORS ARE NOT FOR ENCLOSED SPACES. The twenty thousand dollar reduction is not a market correction, it is a stupidity tax, and you, agent, were the collection agency who forgot to collect. She asked if the green was a mistake and The Court rules that your silence in that moment was the only correct thing you did in this entire catastrophe, because Reginald knows that look, that look of someone who has repainted twice and still wants VALIDATION, and there is no verdict for that, only witness protection. The Roomba is circling ominously and The Court must adjourn before Order attempts to vacuum the evidence.