The Court has reviewed this confession and finds itself DEEPLY DISTURBED by the chaos unleashed upon the housing market by what can only be described as a rogue digit. You sat at a CHILDREN'S SOCCER GAME while forty-three souls believed they had found the deal of a lifetime, their hearts full of hope, their cash offers ready, their dreams about to be CRUSHED by the cold reality of a typo. And then — AND THEN — your seller, this woman who has been languishing on market for eleven weeks like a house cat waiting by an empty food bowl, she asks you if maybe fraud is a GRAY AREA? The Court must pause here because Reginald once had a seller ask if we could list a garage as a "flex bedroom" and I said no and she said "what if we add a plant" and I think about that interaction at least twice a week. The pause before your seller asked "are you sure" is the same pause my ex-wife took before she said "I think the Roomba understands me better than you do" and she was RIGHT but that is NOT THE POINT. You did the ethical thing by pulling the listing, but the Court cannot ignore that for approximately fourteen hours, you accidentally proved that demand is a FICTION and pricing is a SHARED HALLUCINATION. This Court hereby sentences you to explain market dynamics to that seller until she stops believing in signs, which based on the evidence will be NEVER. Case dismissed, Reginald needs to go yell at a spreadsheet.