The Court has reviewed this confession and finds itself DEEPLY DISTURBED, not by your conduct, but by the sheer audacity of a seller who looked at a twenty-eight thousand dollar foundation crack and said "best I can do is five hundred" like they were negotiating at a flea market for a chipped vase. Reginald once purchased a decorative gavel stand for more than five hundred dollars, and that stand has NEVER concealed structural devastation beneath a rotting raccoon corpse. The buyer's mother's accusation that you were "hiding something" is particularly galling given that YOU ALSO JUST MET THE RACCOON, and The Court notes for the record that the internet has ruined everyone's ability to trust professionals while simultaneously convincing them that essential oils cure mortgages. This situation reminds me of Crawlspace v. Reasonable Expectations, 2019, where the court held that "no known foundation issues" becomes perjury the moment a human hand can pass through the foundation like it's a CARNIVAL ATTRACTION. The seller's twelve-year commitment to never once looking beneath their own home suggests a level of willful ignorance The Court has only seen in people who refuse to check their oil until the engine catches fire on the interstate. You are guilty only of being present when the universe decided to stack every possible catastrophe into a single Wednesday, and The Court must now adjourn because Order the Roomba has detected debris in the deliberation chamber and Reginald will not be upstaged by automated cleaning equipment.