AUTO ADVANTAGE FINANCE, LLC v. RICKEY CHAD EDWARD ADAMS

Let’s get one thing straight: this isn’t just a car loan gone bad. This is a $16,000 grudge match over a 2017 Infiniti QX60 — a luxury SUV that, let’s be honest, probably smelled like stale coffee and existential dread by the time it got repossessed. And now, Auto Advantage Finance, LLC wants every last penny back, plus interest, fees, and the emotional toll of having to file a lawsuit because someone didn’t pay their bill. Welcome to the glamorous world of subprime auto lending, where dreams are sold on credit scores and repossessed on a Tuesday.

So who are we talking about here? On one side, we’ve got Auto Advantage Finance, LLC — not a dealership, not a bank, but one of those specialty lenders that steps in when your credit is too sketchy for a traditional auto loan. These are the financial equivalent of a guy in a trench coat saying, “I can get you a car… no questions asked.” They likely bought the loan contract from the original seller (probably a “buy-here-pay-here” lot with neon signs and a suspiciously cheerful mascot) and now they’re the ones chasing the money. On the other side: Rickey Chad Edward Adams — yes, all three names are in the filing, like he’s a character from a Southern Gothic novel. He’s the guy who thought, “You know what I need? A seven-year-old luxury SUV,” and then, apparently, decided he didn’t need the payments that came with it.

The story starts on August 29, 2024 — a date that probably felt full of promise. Rickey signed on the dotted line for that 2017 Infiniti QX60 Base. That’s the entry-level trim, which means no fancy leather, no heated seats, just the bare minimum of Japanese-engineered mediocrity. But still — it’s an Infiniti! It’s got that weird grille! It probably has a backup camera that glitches! This was supposed to be his ride, his freedom, his escape from the bus system or his cousin’s hand-me-down pickup. But somewhere between signing the contract and the first payment reminder, things went sideways. The filing doesn’t say why Rickey stopped paying — maybe he lost his job, maybe the transmission blew, maybe he just woke up one day and decided, “Nah, I’d rather spend this on avocado toast.” We don’t know. What we do know is that he defaulted. He stopped paying. And in the world of auto finance, that’s not a minor oversight — that’s a full-blown breach of contract.

So what does a lender do when you ghost your car payments? They send angry letters. They call. They call again. And then, if you’re still not paying, they send the repo man. And that’s exactly what happened. The Infiniti QX60 was recovered — yanked from a driveway, towed from a parking lot, maybe even snatched while Rickey was grabbing a gas station burrito. We don’t know the dramatic details, but we do know the car was sold. That’s standard procedure: repossess, auction, apply the proceeds to the debt. But here’s the kicker — the car didn’t sell for enough to cover what Rickey owed. And that, my friends, is how you end up with a deficiency balance. It’s the financial equivalent of still owing money on a phone you dropped in the toilet.

Now, Auto Advantage Finance is coming after Rickey for $16,131.96 — wait, no, the petition says $16,231.91, plus $1,155.05 in interest. The math is a little messy, but the point is clear: even after selling the car, Rickey still owes more than $16,000. And let’s talk about that interest rate — 19.9795% per annum. That’s not a typo. That’s 19.9795. Someone really wanted to be precise about how much they were charging. That’s nearly 20% interest — the kind of rate that makes credit card companies look generous. At that rate, the debt grows faster than mold in a gym locker. And yes, they want interest after judgment too, plus court costs, plus attorney’s fees. This isn’t just about getting their money back — it’s about making sure Rickey pays for the privilege of not paying.

Now, why are they in court? Legally, this is a classic breach of contract claim. Rickey signed a contract saying he’d pay back the loan. He didn’t. That’s it. That’s the whole case. No fraud, no conspiracy, no dramatic betrayal — just a failure to pay as agreed. In legal terms, the plaintiff (Auto Advantage) says: “We had a deal. He broke it. Now he owes us.” They’re not asking for punitive damages, they’re not demanding an injunction, they’re not trying to take his kidney — just cold, hard cash. And $16,000 might not sound like a fortune, but for a used Infiniti from 2017? That’s a lot of leftover debt. For context, you can buy a decent new car for twice that amount. You could also cover two years of rent in some parts of Oklahoma. Or, you know, pay off a lot of student loans. So yes — $16,000 is a very big deal when you’re already in financial trouble. It’s the kind of sum that can tank a credit score, trigger wage garnishment, and turn a minor setback into a years-long financial hangover.

And what’s our take on all this? Look, we’re not here to defend deadbeats. Contracts are contracts. If you sign for a loan, you should pay it back. But there’s something deeply absurd about the precision of this whole operation. A 19.9795% interest rate? A deficiency balance calculated to the penny? A lawsuit filed over a car that probably depreciated faster than a crypto investment? This is the dark underbelly of the American auto lending system — where people with shaky credit are sold expensive cars at predatory rates, and when they inevitably fall behind, the lender comes after them with the full force of the law. Auto Advantage didn’t sell Rickey a car — they sold him a debt trap with leather seats. And now they’re acting shocked, shocked, that he couldn’t keep up.

Do we feel bad for Rickey? Maybe a little. Did he make a questionable financial decision? Absolutely. But do we also side-eye a company that’s charging 20% interest on a seven-year-old Infiniti? Oh, 100%. This isn’t just a breach of contract — it’s a symptom of a system that profits from people’s desperation. And while we’re not rooting for anyone to dodge their debts, we’re also not celebrating a lender that turns a routine car sale into a financial horror story. If justice were truly served here, maybe both sides would’ve thought harder before signing that contract. But since we’re stuck in civil court instead of financial therapy, we’ll just say this: somebody’s getting a judgment, and somebody’s credit score is about to take a nosedive. And somewhere, an Infiniti sales brochure is quietly judging us all.

(We’re entertainers, not lawyers. This case is based on a court filing. We don’t know what really happened. But we do know that 19.9795% is a cursed number.)