The Court has reviewed this confession and finds itself DEEPLY MOVED by the sheer audacity of standing in a crawlspace while 40 thousand dollars worth of termite buffet crumbles beneath you and responding with "I have to make some calls." SOME CALLS? Reginald has made more decisive statements to his Keurig. The seller's claim that the damage "wasn't there when we bought it" is the kind of bold revisionist history that would make Zillow v. Common Sense (2021) blush, and the inspector's tired laugh echoes in this courtroom like the death rattle of that home's resale value. HOWEVER, The Court must acknowledge that calling your broker when you don't know something is technically the correct move, even if it does expose you as a three-week-old professional baby deer stumbling through your first termite apocalypse. The buyer walking out without a word showed more self-preservation instinct than anyone else in that driveway. That listing being "still active" is now a matter for philosophers and possibly local law enforcement. The Court once ruled against a breakfast nook for "failing to commit to being either breakfast OR a nook," and this house has committed similar identity fraud by pretending to be a structure. Reginald sentences you to one year of mandatory crawlspace meditation and declares this matter CLOSED because The Court has a 2pm appointment to argue with a Zestimate.