Inevitably, the back-and-forth—justifiably dubbed “the whitest trial of all time”—devolved into chaos specific to caucasians with more cash than they likely know what to do with. One witness taught a physics lesson, Sanderson’s attorney (who followers of Evan Ross Katz voted should be portrayed by Cheri Oteri) fawned over Paltrow’s height and supposed tipping habits, and Paltrow offered to bring “treats” for the bailiffs. Of course, I’d be remiss not to mention how Paltrow’s daughter deliciously revealed what her “very clearly visibly upset” mother did with their lost day of skiing via written deposition read in court. In short: got a massage.

Annoying fodder about the trial practically begat more annoying fodder. Most media often called it a “showdown” and described it as “contentious.” In the end, though, what was billed as a bloated battle royale culminated in a victory for Paltrow, some rather unsavory revelations about Sanderson, and the following exchange between the two of them: “I wish you well,” the star told Sanderson as she departed the courtroom. “Thank you dear,” he replied. Pretty damn cordial for two people who just spent a considerable amount of time and money to carry on a “my luxury ski vacation sucked harder than your luxury ski vacation seven years ago” contest, no?

Paltrow will most certainly be fine. In a matter of weeks, Goop will likely release a candle called: This smells like Gwynocence, or whatever. Sanderson—and his incredible collection of ties—will probably endure too. After all, when asked by reporters what’s next outside the courtroom, he replied: “Maybe Disneyland!”

I, however, will never be the same given this godforsaken trial has forced me to realize I don’t enjoy watching all rich people in the throes of litigation, especially when the parties ultimately face very little—if any—consequences at all.