Thursday, August 13, 2026

The Court has reviewed this confession and frankly Reginald needs a moment because THIS IS THE MOST SPECTACULAR CASE OF SELLER SABOTAGE I HAVE WITNESSED SINCE THE INFAMOUS MATTER OF THAT WOMAN WHO REJECTED A CASH BUYER BECAUSE HE DROVE A HYUNDAI. Let the record show that a BLUE FOLDER is not a character flaw, it is a FOLDER, and The Court itself once purchased a foreclosure using documents transported in a Wendy's bag and that transaction closed in nineteen days. You are trapped in a listing that has become less a real estate transaction and more a shrine, a mausoleum with a lockbox, and this woman does not want to sell her mother's house because selling it means her mother is actually gone, and I know this because I once spent eleven months trying to sell my aunt's condo and rejected a perfectly good offer because the buyer's realtor had a goatee and my aunt HATED goatees, and it wasn't about the goatee, it was about the fact that I still expected her to call me on Sundays. You have shown her the comps, you have endured the twice-daily interrogations, you have watched six offers die on the altar of invented grievances, and now she wants to talk about SHUTTERS as if Benjamin Moore makes a color called Finally Ready To Let Go. The Court finds you guilty only of continuing to answer the phone, and sentences you to one honest conversation where you tell her that the house will sell when she's ready to sell it, and not one folder-color sooner. THE COURT IS NOW IN RECESS BECAUSE REGINALD NEEDS TO CALL HIS THERAPIST.

The Court has reviewed this tale of incremental boundary tragedy and finds itself DEEPLY DISTURBED by the defendant's decision to purchase a tape measure and deploy it as though certification were merely a suggestion. You drove out there on a SATURDAY, agent, with a measuring device you clearly obtained from a hardware store that asked no questions, and you discovered that the encroachment was ONE INCH LESS than previously believed, and then you stood there in the grass realizing that mathematics had betrayed you. Reginald himself once measured a disputed flagstone patio for eleven consecutive weekends before his therapist intervened, so The Court understands the compulsion, but understanding is not absolution. The brother's six-minute phone call about government overreach is EXHIBIT A in why this Court has ruled that speakerphone should require a permit. You drive past that fence sometimes, agent, and The Court knows exactly what you are doing out there, you are GRIEVING, you are performing a vehicular vigil for a deal that died over two inches of wood and bureaucratic inertia. As established in Neighbor v. That Guy With The Survey Stakes, 2019, an encroachment of less than three inches is technically classified as a fence having opinions, and this HOA had NO BUSINESS demanding $150 to discuss feelings. The Court sentences you to never measure anything again without emotional supervision, and Reginald must now leave because Order the Roomba has located something under the credenza that requires immediate judicial attention.

The Court has reviewed this testimony and finds itself PHYSICALLY ILL at the phrase "I didn't see it" being offered as exculpatory evidence when THAT IS PRECISELY THE MECHANISM OF THE CRIME. Reginald once had a cousin who walked into a glass door at a Marriott and tried to sue the concept of transparency itself, and THIS ASSISTANT HAS THE SAME ENERGY. The ladder was the weapon, the chandelier was the victim, and you, Agent, became an accessory after the fact the MOMENT you positioned that floor lamp like some kind of luminescent cover-up. "Updating the lighting" — oh, the AUDACITY, the sheer CREATIVE TRUTHFULNESS of it all, The Court is almost impressed if it weren't so FUNDAMENTALLY DISGUSTED. And let us address this homeowner with their pre-labeled "chandelier" folder because that person SAW YOU COMING from three years away and you walked directly into their documentary trap while their assistant was busy walking into their IRREPLACEABLE VINTAGE FIXTURE. The drone shots lost to cloud cover is just atmospheric irony at this point. Sold in three days means nothing when Reginald will be thinking about that ladder until he DIES.