The Court has reviewed this confession and finds itself DEEPLY MOVED, not to mercy, but to a kind of furious pity that Reginald reserves for baby birds and first-year agents who think comp packages matter. You stayed up until TWO IN THE MORNING believing that facts and photographs would sway an appraiser, a person whose entire job is to look at a house worth three hundred thousand dollars and declare it worth two hundred forty thousand because the comparable sale from 2019 had a slightly larger breakfast nook. This is not professionalism, this is DELUSION, and The Court should know because I once submitted a seventeen-page brief to my HOA about fence height regulations and they responded with a form letter that misspelled my name. Your buyer is not homeless, she lives with her PARENTS, and yet somehow you allowed yourself to absorb her panic like some kind of emotional sponge with a license number, which is frankly a HIPAA violation of the soul. The seller threatening to sue you personally is adorable because what are they going to take, your enthusiasm? Your phone full of Zillow screenshots? I am issuing this verdict from my chambers, which is a Panera Bread, and I must now leave because they are closing and Order the Roomba cannot save me here.