Sue Ann Sumter v. Get N Go Raza, Inc.

Let’s get one thing straight: Sue Ann Sumter paid $76,000—seventy-six thousand dollars—so her convenience store could have Conoco signs. Not a new roof. Not a million-dollar renovation. Not even a working Slurpee machine. Conoco signs. And somehow, in the wild legal rodeo of Mayes County, Oklahoma, that has spiraled into a $1 million lawsuit with a laundry list of legal claims so long it looks like a law school final exam. This isn’t just a breach of contract—it’s a full-scale branding war fought over missing logos and broken promises, and honestly? We’re here for it.

Sue Ann Sumter is the kind of person who probably checks her gas station’s curb appeal like it’s a quarterly report. She runs “Okie Dokie,” a convenience store and gas station in Pryor, Oklahoma, operating under a lease agreement with Get N Go Raza, Inc., which owns the property at 115 S. Mill Street. Now, this isn’t just any lease—it’s a five-year deal with purchase options, meaning Sumter wasn’t just renting; she was building something. And part of that build? Becoming an official, legit, Conoco-approved gas station. That branding matters. You don’t just slap a Conoco sign on a cinder block and call it a day. There are standards. There are logos. There are LED cornices. And if you want customers to believe you’re the real deal instead of some sketchy off-brand pit stop, you need those signs up, and you need them right. Enter the defendants: a corporate chain of responsibility that looks less like a construction team and more like a game of telephone gone horribly wrong. You’ve got Get N Go Raza, Inc., the landlord; AMZ Enterprises, LLC, the mysterious Oklahoma LLC that allegedly took the money; Mohammad Azib Chotani, the man behind the curtain (or at least the man allegedly managing both companies); and Monitor, Inc., the Texas-based contractor hired to actually do the work. In theory, this should’ve been a smooth operation: pay the money, get the signs, attract customers, make money. Instead, we got a construction saga with all the drama of a reality TV show, minus the dramatic music… until now.

Here’s how it went down: On January 29, 2025, Sumter handed over $76,000—cold, hard cash—to AMZ Enterprises, LLC. Not a loan. Not a deposit. Full payment. For what? A complete upgrade: a new island canopy over the gas pumps, proper Conoco branding (including a “48” Conoco Fusion” sign with two logos and LED lighting on three sides), and digital fuel price displays. All of it required by Conoco to officially certify the location. And it wasn’t just a handshake deal—this was spelled out in the lease agreement, specifically Paragraph 3(d), which stated in no uncertain terms: Complete installation of all outdoor Conoco signs and digital gas sign required by Conoco to brand the store a Conoco approved facility. Completion date: April 28, 2025. That’s not a suggestion. That’s a deadline. A legally binding, calendar-circling, “we-better-have-this-done-or-someone’s-getting-sued” kind of deadline. But April 28 came and went. And what did Sumter have to show for her $76,000? Crickets. No signs. No digital price displays. No Conoco branding. Just pumps sitting under an unfinished canopy, like a gas station ghost town. She sent emails. She followed up. She even got responses—first from Chotani himself, who promised it would be done soon, and then from someone named Bilal, allegedly acting as an agent for the defendants, who casually dropped the bombshell: “Oh, it’ll probably be October.” October. Four months past the deadline. And even that didn’t happen. To this day, the signs are still missing. And without them, Sumter says she’s losing business left and right. Customers drive by. They don’t see the Conoco logo. They assume it’s not a real Conoco station. They keep driving. And her profits? Drying up faster than a puddle in a Pryor summer.

So why are we in court? Because Sumter isn’t just mad—she’s lawyered up. Her attorney, Will K. Wright, Jr., didn’t just file a simple breach of contract claim. Oh no. He went full legal buffet. The petition lists ten different legal theories, including breach of written contract, breach of contract for sale of goods and services, violation of the Oklahoma Uniform Commercial Code (U.C.C.), failure to perform, misrepresentation, promissory estoppel, unjust enrichment, detrimental reliance, intentional harm to business, and interference with business relations. It’s like he opened a law textbook, closed his eyes, and pointed. But behind the legalese, the story is simple: You took my money. You promised to do a job. You didn’t do it. Now I’m losing money every day, and I want you to fix it—or pay for it. And yes, technically, some of these claims overlap. But the core argument is clear: Sumter relied on these promises—both written and verbal—to her financial detriment. She paid upfront. She expected results. She got nothing. And now she wants the court to either force the defendants to finish the job (that’s the injunctive relief part) or pay her back—with interest, attorney fees, and enough extra to cover her lost profits.

And about that number: $1 million. Let’s be real—that’s a lot of money, especially when you’re talking about signage. The actual cost of the work? Around $73,775, according to the contract with Monitor, Inc. So why the tenfold jump? Because Sumter isn’t just asking for her $76,000 back. She’s claiming consequential damages—meaning the ongoing financial harm caused by the lack of branding. She’s citing Florafax v. GTE, a case that allows recovery of lost profits when a breach of contract directly leads to lost business. In other words, she’s arguing that because she doesn’t have Conoco signs, people aren’t stopping, and that’s costing her real money—every single day. Whether a jury agrees that missing logos equal a million bucks in damages is another story. But in her mind? It’s not just about the signs. It’s about the opportunity, the trust, the brand equity she was promised and never got.

Now, here’s our take: The most absurd part of this whole mess isn’t that $76,000 was paid for signs. It’s that anyone thought this was a good idea. Paying the full amount upfront for construction work? In cash? To an LLC with a name that sounds like a side hustle? That’s not business—that’s a red flag parade. And yet, we can’t help but root for Sue Ann Sumter. She didn’t ask for much. She wanted her store to look official. She wanted customers to know they could trust her pumps. She wanted the little things that make a gas station feel like a real business, not a roadside afterthought. Instead, she got ghosted by contractors, delayed by empty promises, and left holding a lease and a pile of receipts. This isn’t just about signs. It’s about dignity. It’s about being taken seriously. And if the court makes these defendants finally hang up those Conoco logos—or pay her a life-changing sum to do it herself—then justice, in its own weird, petty, civil-court way, will have been served. Until then, Pryor drivers will keep squinting at that unmarked canopy, wondering if it’s safe to fill up… and we’ll be here, popcorn in hand, waiting for the next chapter in the Great Conoco Sign Debacle of 2025.