Tenmark Yukon Industrial, LLC v. Fussell Appliances, LLC

Let’s be honest: nobody dreams of spending their Friday morning in Oklahoma County District Court arguing about $27,000 in overdue rent and late fees on a commercial lease. But here we are. And here they are. Because when your landlord tapes a 10-day Notice to Quit to your business door like it’s a passive-aggressive Post-it from a roommate, you know things have gone sideways. Welcome to the dramatic, deeply unglamorous world of Fussell Appliances, LLC vs. the Landlord Who’s Just Done With This Whole Situation.

Now, let’s meet the players. On one side: Tenmark Yukon Industrial, LLC, a Delaware-based real estate entity that owns industrial properties and apparently has zero tolerance for late payments. They’re not some mom-and-pop outfit—they’re the kind of company that files lawsuits before breakfast and names their attorneys in triplicate. Represented by Craig E. Brown and Evan A. McCormick of Morgan, Brown & McCormick, PLLC—yes, the firm is literally named after them, like a 19th-century law duo from a Western—these folks mean business. Their guy, Michael Schau (whose title is listed as “McB. MRB,” which sounds like a rapper’s stage name or a typo we’re all pretending is real), swore under oath that this whole mess is true and correct, so you know it’s serious.

On the other side: Fussell Appliances, LLC, a Louisiana-based business that apparently thought it was a good idea to open a retail appliance shop in Oklahoma City at 4800 N. Stiles. And not just any shop—a business so bold, so ambitious, that it signed a five-year commercial lease back on September 25, 2025. The rent? $3,940 a month, with increases every year. That’s not chump change for an appliance store in OKC, especially when you factor in late fees, interest, operating expenses, and real estate taxes. Oh, and get this: the lease wasn’t enough. To really spice things up, Kraig D. Fussell and Christopher Allen Fussell—yes, almost certainly related, possibly brothers, possibly father and son, possibly just two guys who share a last name and a questionable business decision—personally guaranteed the lease. That means if the business tanks, they are on the hook. Their houses. Their cars. Their vintage toaster collection. All fair game.

So what happened? Well, the short version: Fussell Appliances stopped paying. The long version: they stopped paying a lot. As of the filing date—February 20, 2026—they owe $27,428.61. Let that sink in. That’s not just a few months’ rent. That’s nearly seven months of base rent alone, not counting the extras. And remember, this lease doesn’t expire until August 31, 2030. That’s four more years of potential drama. The landlord isn’t even asking for the full remaining balance—yet. They’re just saying, “Hey, we’d like the $27k you already owe, plus we’d like you out so we can rent this place to someone who pays on time, like, say, a laundromat or a storage unit franchise.”

Now, before you can evict a commercial tenant in Oklahoma, you’ve got to serve them with a 10-day Notice to Quit. It’s not a suggestion. It’s not a “Hey, maybe think about moving?” It’s a legal ultimatum: pay up or get out. And how was this notice delivered? Not by certified mail. Not by email. Not even by dramatic text message. It was taped to the door. On February 3, 2026, a process server named Leif Nelson (yes, that’s his real name, and yes, he sounds like a Viking sent to collect debts) showed up at 4800 N. Stiles, knocked, got no answer, and slapped the notice right on the door like a eviction-themed door prize. There’s even an affidavit for it. There’s an exhibit. This is not a casual “we forgot to pay rent” situation. This is full-on legal theater.

So why are they in court? Because this is a Forcible Entry and Detainer action. In plain English: the landlord wants the property back, and they want the money. It’s not a breach of contract lawsuit (though it could be). It’s not a dispute over who owns the light fixtures. It’s the legal equivalent of changing the locks and saying, “You’re done here.” The claim is straightforward: you broke the lease, you didn’t pay, we told you to leave, you didn’t, so now we’re asking the court to kick you out and make you pay what you owe. And yes, the landlord wants attorney’s fees too, because nothing says “I’m serious” like billing you for the cost of suing you.

Now, about that $27,428.61. Is that a lot? Well, for a small business, yes. That’s a year of payroll for one employee. That’s a delivery van. That’s a whole lot of refrigerators. But for a commercial landlord with industrial properties? That’s a rounding error. Yet they’re still suing. Why? Because if you let one tenant slide, they all slide. This isn’t just about the money—it’s about the principle. And the precedent. And the legal paperwork they can now bill by the hour.

So what do they want? The landlord wants three things: (1) the $27,428.61, (2) possession of the property (i.e., Fussell Appliances has to pack up and leave), and (3) their attorney’s fees and court costs. They’re also reserving the right to come back later and sue for future rent if Fussell Appliances stays beyond the eviction. That’s the legal version of “this isn’t over.” It’s the empire strikes back of commercial real estate disputes.

Now, our take? The most absurd part of this whole saga isn’t the taped-to-the-door eviction notice (though that’s pretty wild). It’s not even the fact that two grown men personally guaranteed a lease for a business in another state. No, the real comedy gold is the timeline. The lease was signed in September 2025. The lawsuit was filed in February 2026. That’s five months. Five months from signing a five-year lease to getting evicted. That’s like getting divorced before the honeymoon’s over. Did the business fail instantly? Was there a flood of dishwashers? Did the Fussells realize mid-lease that nobody in Oklahoma City buys appliances from a Louisiana-based LLC operating out of a random industrial unit on N. Stiles? We may never know.

But here’s what we do know: someone thought this was a good idea. Someone signed on the dotted line. Someone guaranteed it with their personal finances. And someone—Leif Nelson, you legend—taped a legal notice to a door like it was a pizza menu. This isn’t just a landlord-tenant dispute. This is a monument to overreach, underplanning, and the quiet tragedy of commercial real estate dreams gone bust.

We’re not rooting for the landlord. They’re too corporate, too cold, too “McB. MRB.” We’re not rooting for the Fussells—they gambled big and lost harder. But if we had to pick a side? We’re rooting for the process server. Because in the great American legal circus, the guy who tapes the notice to the door is the unsung hero. And if this case teaches us anything, it’s that in the world of commercial leases, always pay your rent. Or at least keep the door unlocked.