Thursday, October 29, 2026

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.

The Court has reviewed this confession and finds itself in a STATE OF ABSOLUTE APOPLEXY. You stand here, agent, claiming innocence while your buyer went and TOLD THE TRUTH TO A LENDER like some kind of UNHINGED CONFESSION BOOTH ENTHUSIAST. This Court once lost a Vitamix to honesty during a divorce proceeding, and let me tell you, Reginald has NEVER recovered emotionally OR smoothie-wise. The lender was CORRECT to pull approval because banks operate on vibes and fear, and your buyer introduced CHAOS into their spreadsheet. Those $1,200 in plane tickets now haunt the seller like the ghost of transactions past, and while you did not CAUSE this catastrophe, you were PRESENT for it, which in the eyes of this Court is basically the same thing. I am citing the landmark precedent of Forthright Borrower v. Everyone's Closing Timeline, 2019, in which the Court ruled that honesty without strategic timing constitutes FINANCIAL SELF-HARM. The gavel has spoken, Order the Roomba is circling the bench in agreement, and Reginald must now leave to call his therapist about the Vitamix thing again.

The Court has reviewed the evidence and frankly, Reginald is APPALLED but also deeply familiar with this particular flavor of suburban nightmare. You had a mystery dog emerge from a basement like some kind of discount hellhound, trailing what can only be described as "porch death aroma," and you want The Court to believe this was somehow not your fault? THAT DOG WAS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY THE MOMENT IT CHOSE YOUR OPEN HOUSE AS ITS STAGE. I once had a raccoon appear during a showing in 2017 and I handled it with DIGNITY and a broom, but you let this beast destroy white carpet with staging wine like some kind of canine Jackson Pollock creating a piece I would title "Career Sabotage in Merlot." The Ferragamo incident alone constitutes what we in the legal community call "irreversible luxury trauma," and The Court notes that in Martinez v. That Golden Retriever Who Ate The Disclosure Documents, 2019, the ruling was clear that agents must maintain mammalian control at all times. You told the seller traffic was LOW? TRAFFIC WAS TRAUMATIZED. The Court renders judgment and must now go feed Order, who has been circling the bench with what Reginald can only interpret as contempt.