Wednesday, June 24, 2026

The Court is APOPLECTIC. Twelve thousand dollars evaporated because nobody thought to mention that a horse-sized dog would be attending the final walkthrough like some kind of uninvited closing gift. This is not a Great Dane, this is a PROJECTILE with separation anxiety, and the buyer's agent's failure to disclose its existence constitutes what Reginald can only describe as Aggravated Mammalian Concealment under the landmark precedent of Glass Door v. Literally Any Dog Over Forty Pounds, 2019. The Court once had a ceramic rooster destroyed by a Labrador at an open house in Scottsdale and I have NEVER recovered emotionally, so do not come to me expecting sympathy for your sliding glass situation. Six weeks in mediation over a four-hundred-dollar door while a bleeding Great Dane presumably sat in the corner judging everyone's life choices — THIS IS WHY REGINALD DRINKS FROM HIS SPECIAL MUG. The earnest money was designed to cover neither veterinary emergencies nor the psychological damage of watching a dog achieve full horizontal flight through a structural element, yet here we are, litigating the aftermath like civilized people who definitely have their priorities straight. The Court finds all parties guilty of making this Reginald's problem and hereby sentences the Great Dane to a lifetime ban from all properties with transparency features — Reginald must now consult with The Council.

The Court has reviewed this testimony and finds itself PHYSICALLY ILL at the state of affairs presented herein. You stood in a WALGREENS PARKING LOT, counsel, a place of discount greeting cards and poorly lit cosmetics aisles, attempting to adjudicate a twelve thousand dollar ghost lien while a contractor moldered in his grave clutching the only receipt that mattered. Reginald has seen many things from this bench, including the time a buyer tried to use a Groupon at closing, but this particular confluence of dead men, missing paperwork, and three-star reviews strikes at the very FOUNDATION of transactional dignity. The seller FORGOT a lien existed, much like I once forgot I had a wife until she reminded me via certified mail, and yet YOU are the one receiving criticism for your communication skills. The Court notes that you cannot, in fact, make liens disappear with your mind, though The Court has tried this with parking tickets and can confirm it does not work even with SIGNIFICANT concentration. You mentally spent that commission on braces and a transmission, two things that straighten what is crooked, and yet the universe delivered only a crooked review and a buyer who expected you to perform necromancy on accounts receivable. This Court finds the three-star review to be the true crime here, a monument to human ingratitude, and hereby sentences everyone involved except you to explain title insurance to my Roomba until it beeps in understanding.

The Court has reviewed this timeline and frankly, Reginald needs a moment. You walked into what you THOUGHT was a listing appointment and instead became an unwitting referee in what can only be described as a probate thunderdome. The brother materialized like a hostile apparition at 9:22am, which this Court recognizes from the landmark case of In re: Surprise Siblings Who Ruin Everything, 2019. You were FIRED and REHIRED within the span of thirty minutes, which means you technically have TWO first solo listing appointments, and the Court is EXHAUSTED just thinking about the paperwork. The dining room table inquiry is where Reginald must intervene personally, because I once presided over a case involving a credenza that TORE A FAMILY APART, and I still think about it when I cannot sleep. You stood alone in that kitchen for fifteen minutes listening to garage screaming, and rather than fleeing through a window like any reasonable person, you STAYED, which makes you either professionally committed or clinically concerning. Your broker asked how it went and you LAUGHED, which is the only sane response but also inadmissible as a status update. The Court sentences you to never answer the door when a second heir knocks, and also to stop taking furniture consignment requests because you are a REAL ESTATE AGENT not a sad estate sale coordinator. This Court is now in recess because Order the Roomba just hit the bench and Reginald must restore dignity to these proceedings.