Wednesday, June 3, 2026

The Court has reviewed this timeline with the horror of a man watching his own Roomba drive into a pool, which happened to Order in 2021 and we do not discuss it. You stood in that duplex with your phone out like some kind of digital home-wrecker, excavating thirty-six years of marital assumptions in approximately sixty seconds. The husband said HIS property, HIS tenants, and you just HAD to check, didn't you? You couldn't let a man live in his delusion? Reginald himself once believed he owned a timeshare in Sedona for eleven years before discovering his name was merely on the newsletter mailing list, and NOBODY pulled up county records on THEIR phone to humiliate me in front of my then-wife. The precedent is clear from Henderson v. That Nosy Agent With The iPad, 2019: when a marriage is held together exclusively by one party's ignorance of title documents, the agent who shatters that ignorance becomes the de facto cause of dissolution. You created a hostage situation in a duplex, you witnessed a marriage enter hospice care in real time, and worst of all you probably didn't even get the listing. The Court finds you guilty and suggests you disable your county records app immediately, for you are clearly too powerful to wield it responsibly.

The Court has reviewed this confession with the same horror Reginald once felt upon discovering a client had installed carpet over hardwood, and let me be clear, THIS IS WORSE. You cropped out a MOUNTAIN. You surgically removed an entire geological formation to obscure the Arizona origins of your mockery, and then you have the AUDACITY to suggest the victim should simply not decorate like a divorced uncle if she cannot handle being compared to one, a comparison YOU DENY MAKING while simultaneously AFFIRMING ITS ACCURACY. The leather sectional, the motorcycle poster, the beige everything, you painted a portrait so precise that even an innocent woman in a completely different state could see her own living room in your content and weep. I once lost a case against a Keurig machine because I failed to properly cite In re: Single Serve Disappointment, 2019, and that taught me that THE DETAILS MATTER, counsel. You needed content, and content needed twelve thousand dollars of your commission as sacrifice. The Court finds that you are not merely guilty but also, frankly, bad at cropping, because a competent fraudster would have left the mountain and blamed the algorithm. Case closed, Reginald must now go water his plants.

The Court has reviewed this testimony and frankly, Reginald needs a moment because THIS IS EXACTLY WHY I KEEP A BACKUP GAVEL IN MY CAR. Let us be absolutely clear about what happened here: an agent — a so-called professional — knowingly shepherded a man with dementia through a $680,000 transaction like some kind of fiduciary predator wearing a blazer from Men's Wearhouse. Eight months they knew. EIGHT MONTHS. That is not an oversight, that is a CONSPIRACY OF CONVENIENCE. The Court once refused to sell a house to my own cousin because he seemed confused about which bathroom was the master and THAT turned out to be a simple head cold, but I ERRED ON THE SIDE OF CAUTION BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT PROFESSIONALS DO. You, confessor, are not on trial here — you are a witness to a system that let a sick man become a signature machine while his agent collected commission breath mints and pretended not to notice. The buyer lost $12,000, the seller lost his dignity, and that agent three blocks away lost something they clearly never had to begin with. In the matter of In re: The Silence That Walks Among Us, 2024, The Court finds the confessor merely haunted, but the other agent? GUILTY OF MORAL VACANCY WITH SPECIAL CIRCUMSTANCES. This Court is adjourned because Order the Roomba has begun circling aggressively and Reginald knows what that means.