The ugly house bounty
See an ugly house? That's your money
You don't have to own it. You don't have to like it. You don't even have to knock. Send us the address — we'll do the awkward part. If we buy it, you get paid.
or just look out a window
- 1%
- Of the purchase price. Yours.
- $0
- What it costs to send one in
- 0
- Conversations you have to have
- 40s
- How long the whole form takes
The bounty math
One percent sounds small. It isn't.
A bounty is 1% of whatever we pay for the house. Not a flat fee. Not a gift card. A percentage of an actual house.
Your cut
1% of $150,000
Reward · 1% on closeBlue tarp
Effect on your bounty: none. We pay 1% either way.
Bounty = 1% of the purchase price, paid at closing, out of the same escrow that pays the seller. A $150,000 house is $1,500. A $310,000 house is $3,100. It is not a guess. It is a percentage.
That's a $1,500 bounty. Go find it.
How it works
Three steps. You are only in one of them.
Send the address
Type it, paste it, or describe it badly — “the one with the tarp, on Vine, past the church” has worked before. Forty seconds. No account to make first; we'll set one up for you at the end so you can watch it move.
Claim a bounty →We go do the hard part
We find out who owns it — deeds, probate files, an LLC in Delaware, a cousin in Reno. Then we knock, we call, and we get told no a lot. This takes weeks. You will not hear from us during it, and you don't need to.
It closes. You get paid.
If we buy it, your 1% is written into the closing statement and paid out of escrow the day the seller gets paid. Not net-90. Not a personal check from a stranger.
Paid
The field guide
How to spot one from the road.
You don't need to be right. You need to be curious. Here's what a bounty looks like at twenty-five miles an hour.
Blue tarp on the roof
A blue tarp is a cry for help. It was supposed to be temporary. It has been up since the last administration.
The yard has given up
Not overgrown — feral. When you can't tell where the lawn ends and the shrub begins, nobody has come outside in a long time.
Plywood where a window goes
One boarded window is a bad night. Three boarded windows is a decision.
A notice taped to the door
Bright paper, official font, nobody's taken it down. That isn't junk mail. That's the county.
The mail is winning
Mailbox full, flyers gone yellow, a phone book on the porch. Nobody has walked up to that door in a very long time.
A driveway that hasn't moved
Same car, flat tires, four seasons of leaves on the hood. It is not a car anymore. It is furniture.
The gutter is growing a tree
A small tree. In a gutter. Twenty feet up. Somebody is going to have to explain how that happened, and it will not be you.
Fire, water, or both
Char above a window. A stain running down the siding. Drywall in the driveway. Something happened here, and then nothing happened after.
You just know
You don't have a reason. You've driven past it a hundred times and it bothers you every time. Send it. Being right is our job.
Still not sure? Send it anyway. A wrong guess costs you nothing and takes forty seconds.
Division of labor
You do one thing. We do everything else.
This is not a partnership. This is you pointing at a house and then getting on with your day.
| Task | Your job | Our job |
|---|---|---|
| Spot the house | Notice it. That's the whole skill. | Be on every street at once. We can't. That's the entire reason you exist. |
| Get the address | Type it in. Guess if you have to. | Confirm the parcel, the plat, and which of the three Elm Streets it actually is. |
| Find the owner | Nothing. | Skip-trace the deed, the probate file, an LLC in Delaware, and a cousin in Reno. |
| Make first contact | Nothing. Do not knock. | Letters, calls, doors, and being told no in several tones of voice. |
| Negotiate the price | Nothing. | Months of it, sometimes. |
| Title, liens, back taxes | Nothing. | A 1998 mechanic's lien and an heir nobody thought to mention. |
| Repairs and cleanout | Nothing. | The roof, the mold, the smell, and whatever is currently living in the garage. |
| Show up at closing | Nothing. Stay home. | Title company, wire, notary, keys. |
| Get paid | Cash the check. | Send you 1% of the purchase price. |
| If the deal dies | Nothing. You lose nothing. | We eat every dollar we spent getting there. |
Your job
- Spot the house
- Notice it. That's the whole skill.
- Get the address
- Type it in. Guess if you have to.
- Find the owner
- Nothing.
- Make first contact
- Nothing. Do not knock.
- Negotiate the price
- Nothing.
- Title, liens, back taxes
- Nothing.
- Repairs and cleanout
- Nothing.
- Show up at closing
- Nothing. Stay home.
- Get paid
- Cash the check.
- If the deal dies
- Nothing. You lose nothing.
Our job
- Spot the house
- Be on every street at once. We can't. That's the entire reason you exist.
- Get the address
- Confirm the parcel, the plat, and which of the three Elm Streets it actually is.
- Find the owner
- Skip-trace the deed, the probate file, an LLC in Delaware, and a cousin in Reno.
- Make first contact
- Letters, calls, doors, and being told no in several tones of voice.
- Negotiate the price
- Months of it, sometimes.
- Title, liens, back taxes
- A 1998 mechanic's lien and an heir nobody thought to mention.
- Repairs and cleanout
- The roof, the mold, the smell, and whatever is currently living in the garage.
- Show up at closing
- Title company, wire, notary, keys.
- Get paid
- Send you 1% of the purchase price.
- If the deal dies
- We eat every dollar we spent getting there.
Not your problem
Things you will never have to do.
- Own the house
- Know the owner
- Know the owner's name
- Knock on a door
- Make a phone call
- Be nice to anyone
- Know anything about real estate
- Estimate a repair
- Hold a license
- Be a “professional”
- Own a tie
- Explain yourself
You have to type an address. That is the entire job.
No qualifications required
You are already qualified.
There is no application. There is no licence. There is no interview. If you have eyes and an address, you're a spotter.
Mail carrier
You have walked past it four hundred times.
Dog walker
Your dog flagged it years ago.
Delivery driver
You have GPS and a grudge.
Contractor
You bid that roof. They never called back.
Landscaper
You know exactly which yards gave up.
Retiree
You've been watching that house since 2009.
The neighbor
You're not nosy. You're early.
Teenager on a bike
You know every scary house in a three-mile radius.
Night-shift nurse
Nothing is uglier at 3 a.m.
Tow truck driver
You've already been in the driveway.
Real estate agent
Yes, you too — but check with your broker first.
Literally anyone
That's the whole point. You looked out a window.
There is no application. There is no interview. There is an address field.
BountyThe two questions everyone asks
Will you actually pay me? And is this even legal?
Will you actually pay me?
Yes, and here is the boring mechanic that makes it true: your bounty is written into the closing statement at the title company, alongside everybody else's money. It is paid out of escrow the same day the seller is paid — not later, not by us, not by personal check. If the house closes and you were the first person to send us that address, you get 1% of the purchase price. If it never closes, nobody gets paid, and that includes us.
Is this even legal?
Yes. You are not selling the house, listing it, or representing anyone. You are telling a buyer about a public address — the same thing you would do if you texted a friend that a place looked rough. We do everything after that ourselves, in writing, as a direct cash buyer, and we close at a title company. One piece of housekeeping: if you hold a real estate licence, your broker has rules about referral compensation. Ask them first. We would rather you be clean than fast.
Am I doing something to this homeowner?
You're doing the opposite. We knock on the door of a house nobody else will buy and offer cash, as-is, no repairs, no fees. Most owners of houses like this have been stuck for years and have never had an offer at all. Plenty of them still say no — that is their right, and we go away and leave them alone. You are not turning anyone in. You are introducing a buyer to a house.
Spotters
They looked out a window.
Illustrative examples — not real customer quotes
“I walk the same eleven streets every day. I have opinions about four of those houses. Turns out one of them was worth two thousand dollars to me.”
R.C. — Mail carrier, Route 12
Paid $2,050“My dog stops at the same fence every single morning. I finally typed the address in. I did not speak to one human being at any point.”
J.P. — Dog walker
Paid $1,725“I bid that roof in 2019 and never heard back. Sent the address in on a Tuesday. They closed in March.”
M.O. — Roofing contractor
Paid $3,400
Do I have to own the house?
No. That is the entire point. You don't have to own it, live near it, or have any connection to it at all. You need the address. (If it does happen to be your house, say so on the form — we'll just make you a cash offer instead.)
Do I have to know the owner?
No — and please don't go find out. Working out who owns a place like this is genuinely the hard part, and it is genuinely our job. If you already know them, great, tell us. If you don't, nothing changes.
Do I have to talk to anyone?
No. Not the owner, not the neighbours, not us. You send an address and we email you if something happens. If you'd rather talk to a person you can, but nobody is going to make you.
How much do I actually get?
1% of the purchase price, paid at closing. We buy it for $150,000, you get $1,500. We buy it for $310,000, you get $3,100. It's a percentage, not a flat fee, and it isn't capped.
When do I get paid?
The day the house closes. Your bounty is written into the closing statement and paid out of escrow — the same escrow that pays the seller. No net-90, no invoicing, no chasing us for it.
What if someone already sent that address?
First one in wins. Every address is timestamped the second it lands. If you were first and we buy the house, the bounty is yours even if six other people send it the next day. If you were second, we'll tell you straight away so you're not sitting there waiting on a cheque that isn't coming.
What if the house never sells?
Then nobody gets paid, and that includes us. We spend real money finding the owner and making the approach, and we eat it. You risked forty seconds.
Is this legal?
Yes. You're not selling, listing, or brokering anything — you're telling a buyer about a public address, which is the same thing you'd do if you texted a friend that a place looked rough. We handle everything after that, in writing, as a direct cash buyer, and we close at a title company. One caveat: if you hold a real estate licence, your broker almost certainly has rules about referral compensation. Ask them before you submit.
Will the owner know it was me?
No. We never tell an owner who sent us their address, and we never will. As far as they're concerned we're a buyer who found their house — which, from where they're standing, is exactly what we are.
Am I doing something to this homeowner?
You're doing the opposite. We knock on the door of a house nobody else will buy and offer cash, as-is, with no repairs and no fees. Most owners of houses like this have been stuck for years and have never had an offer at all. Plenty of them still say no — that's their right, and we go away. You're not turning anyone in. You're introducing a buyer to a house.
Does the house have to be really bad?
Bad enough that a normal buyer would walk. Peeling paint isn't enough. A tarp, a boarded window, a condemned notice, or fifteen years of nobody caring — that's the zone. When in doubt, send it. Guessing wrong costs you nothing.
How many can I send?
As many as you can find. No cap, no cooldown. Some people send one house they've been staring at for a decade. Some people send nine on a Saturday.
Go look out a window.
You already know a house. You've known it for years. It takes forty seconds, and it might be worth one percent of a house.
1% on closeNo account needed · No ownership required · Paid on close