For Ms. Betakova, a young woman originally from Slovakia, the goal was simple: stay in the United States. She had already spent four years building a life here, but her time was running out. In a desperate bid to secure her future, she turned to a “visa processing” service, paying $1,000 to a group of consultants to handle the complex paperwork for a special O-1 visa.

She thought she was buying peace of mind. Instead, she bought a nightmare.

The Missing Blanks

The trouble began when Ms. Betakova’s application was returned by the Department of Homeland Security. The reason? “Incomplete petition.”

In the courtroom of Judge Judy, the “professional” work of the consultants was put under a microscope. As the Judge flipped through the pages, she found a sea of empty white space. Gross annual income? Blank. Net annual income? Blank. Current number of employees? Blank.

The consultants’ defense was that they had written “See Itinerary” in the boxes. But to the government, “See Itinerary” wasn’t enough. They wanted numbers, and because those numbers were missing, the dream was put on hold.

A “Talent Manager” or a Waitress?

As the trial deepened, the “special visa” itself came into question. To qualify for an O-1 visa, an applicant usually needs to demonstrate “extraordinary ability.” Ms. Betakova claimed she was a “Marketing and Talent Acquisition Manager.”

However, the job offers she submitted told a different story. The establishments were bars and grills on Venice Beach. The pay was $35 an hour plus “bonuses.” “In the hospitality industry, ‘bonuses’ usually means ‘tips,'” Judge Judy noted dryly. She suggested that the government likely saw through the fancy titles. To an immigration officer, she didn’t look like a specialized talent manager; she looked like a waitress.

The “Scam” Accusation

The tension in the room boiled over when Ms. Betakova claimed she had called immigration services herself, and they told her they had no record of her application ever being filed. She felt she had been scammed—paying for “premium processing” that never happened.

The defendants fired back with a countersuit, claiming they were being defamed. They were angry that Ms. Betakova and her boyfriend had left blistering online reviews calling them “scam artists.”

The Final Gavel

In the end, Judge Judy took a pragmatic—if cold—view of the situation. She found that the defendants had actually submitted the paperwork, even if they had done a poor job of filling it out. Because they technically performed the service of filing, she dismissed Ms. Betakova’s claim for a refund.

She also dismissed the consultants’ countersuit regarding the bad reviews. “If you advertise on the internet, people have the right to review you,” she told them. “Some will be satisfied, and some—like her—will be very dissatisfied.”

Ms. Betakova left the room in tears, feeling the system had failed her. The consultants left with their $1,000, but with their reputation tarnished by the very public exposure of their “incomplete” work. It was a classic courtroom lesson: Paying for help doesn’t always mean you’re getting expertise.