Wednesday, September 2, 2026

The Court has reviewed this confession and finds itself PHYSICALLY ILL at the defendant's complete capitulation in the face of neighborly sabotage. You stood there with your little folder, your precious feature sheet, while this man conducted what can only be described as psychological warfare against innocent granite countertops and, presumably, a lovely breakfast nook. Reginald himself once had a neighbor who insisted on discussing his septic situation during a cookout, and I handled it with DIGNITY and a restraining order that was later described as "unenforceable" and "not a real document." But that is neither here nor there. What IS here is your admission that you watched this foundation-obsessed menace drive twelve thousand dollars directly into the ground, and your response was to stand there like a particularly ineffective lawn ornament. The man has a LEVEL now. He is MEASURING THINGS. This is clearly escalation, and yet your plan for tomorrow's inspection is, and I quote, "probably nothing"? IN WHAT JURISDICTION IS "PROBABLY NOTHING" AN ACCEPTABLE STRATEGY? Not this one. The Court finds you guilty, the neighbor guilty, the foundation guilty, and frankly, that level is on thin ice. Case closed, Reginald must now go feed Order because he gets aggressive near the credenza when hungry.

The Court has reviewed this testimony and frankly, Reginald needs a moment because his left eye has begun to twitch in a manner not seen since the Great Barn Door Incident of 2022. Let us examine the evidence: a seller who rejected TWELVE THOUSAND DOLLARS because buyers displayed the cardinal sin of wanting to purchase her home. "Too eager," she says, as if real estate transactions should be conducted with the emotional availability of a man who "isn't looking for anything serious right now" — and The Court would know, The Court has BEEN that man, The Court has HURT people, but that is NOT the matter before us today. You have enabled this chaos for ELEVEN MONTHS, watching offers die like houseplants in a north-facing window, and when she asked why the house isn't selling, you apparently did NOT reply "BECAUSE YOU ARE THE REASON, DEBORAH." Tuesday inspections! TUESDAY! As established in Coldwell v. A Woman Who Also Had Opinions About Days, 2019, there is no legal distinction between inspection days, and yet here we are, held hostage by someone who treats calendar squares like astrological warnings. The Court sentences you to immediate termination of this listing agreement and a mandatory three-week vacation somewhere with no cell service, because Reginald can see in your confession the hollow eyes of someone who has forgotten what joy feels like. This Court is adjourned because I need to go lie down.

The Court has reviewed this confession and frankly Reginald needs a moment because THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED TO ME AT 47 BIRCHWOOD LANE IN 2021 EXCEPT IT WAS A WOMAN WITH A LEAF BLOWER AND A THEORY ABOUT DRAINAGE. You spent four hundred dollars on a survey to prove a fence was not six inches over a line, and somehow this is not the most unhinged detail in your testimony, because we have not yet addressed THE HUSBAND, who has appointed himself both judge and executioner of your signage, who has developed what can only be described as a Pool Prophecy based on events from 2019, who is PHOTOGRAPHING BUYERS like some kind of suburban paparazzo building a case for a court that does not exist. In Reginald v. That Guy Who Kept Honking During My Open House (2022), this Court established that neighbors with theories are more dangerous than neighbors with lawyers, and yet you have done NOTHING except absorb two hundred and fifty-five dollars in sign damage and watch your listing rot like a ranch home in purgatory. Your broker wants answers and The Court wants you to understand that the answer is YOU LET A MAN WITH A CAMERA AND A GRUDGE BECOME THE DE FACTO LISTING AGENT. Reginald must now go lie down because this has triggered something.