MIKE'S DIESEL SERVICE, LLC v. RAM TRUCKING, LLC

Let’s cut right to the chase: a diesel repair shop in Beckham County, Oklahoma, is suing a trucking company for $13,584.16—because apparently, fixing a truck doesn’t come with a free pass to get stiffed. But here’s the kicker—Mike’s Diesel Service isn’t just saying, “Hey, you owe us money.” They’re alleging fraud, claiming the whole thing was a scam from the start: that the defendants hired them, let them do months of work, and never planned to pay a dime. That’s not just bad business etiquette—that’s villain origin story energy.

So who are these people? On one side, we’ve got Mike’s Diesel Service, LLC—a local shop run by folks who know their way around a diesel engine like most of us know our way around a toaster. They’re based right there in Beckham County, where if you don’t pay your mechanic, word gets around faster than a runaway semi. Representing them in court (well, on paper, anyway) is attorney Corry Kendall, who’s clearly not here to play nice, given the laundry list of legal claims he’s slinging. On the other side? RAM Trucking, LLC—a company with a name that sounds like it should be blasting heavy metal out of its CB radio—and its two principals, Malissa and Ramiro Rios, who also happen to live in the same county. This isn’t some shadowy out-of-state corporation dodging accountability. These are neighbors. Local business owners. People who probably wave at each other at the Piggly Wiggly. Or used to.

Now, let’s talk about what went down. From January 2, 2025, to August 27, 2025—nearly eight months—Mike’s Diesel worked on a truck owned by RAM Trucking. That’s not a quick oil change. That’s months of labor, parts, diagnostics, probably some late nights and a few choice words muttered under the hood. And at the end of it all? The truck rolls out—presumably fixed, functional, and back on the road making money for RAM Trucking—while Mike’s Diesel is left holding an invoice worth $13,584.16. And not just any invoice: one that’s been ignored. Repeatedly. The petition says they’ve “tried numerous times” to collect. Translation: calls made, emails sent, maybe even some awkward run-ins at the local diner. But no payment. Not a dime. Just silence. Or worse—promises that led nowhere.

And that’s where this case goes from “annoying bill dispute” to full-blown legal drama. Because Mike’s Diesel isn’t just suing for breach of contract—meaning, “you agreed to pay, you didn’t pay, now cough it up.” They’re also claiming fraud and deceit. That’s right: they’re saying the Rioses and their company never intended to pay from the very beginning. That this whole thing was a calculated move—hire a shop, let them sink time and money into repairs, and then ghost them like a bad first date. If true, that’s not just shady—it’s audacious. It’s like walking into a restaurant, ordering the lobster, eating the whole thing, and then sprinting out the back door while yelling, “Surprise! I don’t believe in money!”

But wait—there’s more. They’re also throwing in promissory estoppel, which sounds like a spell from Harry Potter but really just means: “We did this work because we believed you’d pay us, and now you’re screwing us over.” And finally, unjust enrichment—a fancy way of saying: “You got a benefit (a working truck), we paid the cost (our labor and parts), and it’s not fair that you get to keep the benefit without paying for it.” All four claims are essentially different legal angles on the same core injustice: you used us, and now you owe us.

So what do they want? $13,584.16. Plus attorney fees. Plus court costs. Is that a lot? Well, in the world of trucking, maybe not. A single semi-truck can cost over $150,000. But $13,500 isn’t pocket change for a small repair shop—especially when that money represents real labor, real parts, and real opportunity cost. That’s wages that could’ve been paid to mechanics, supplies that could’ve been stocked, other customers that might’ve been turned away while this one job took up valuable shop time. And let’s not forget: this isn’t just about the money. It’s about principle. It’s about sending a message that in small-town Oklahoma, your word still means something. Or at least, it should.

Now, here’s our take: the most absurd part of this whole saga isn’t even the alleged fraud. It’s the sheer length of time this went on. Eight months. That’s not a misunderstanding. That’s not a bounced check. That’s nearly a year of someone letting a business do extensive, expensive work while allegedly planning to stiff them the whole time. If these allegations are true, it’s not just a breach of contract—it’s a masterclass in audacity. And if they’re not true? Then RAM Trucking has some serious explaining to do about why they let a bill balloon for eight months without addressing it. Either way, someone’s credibility is about to hit the pavement like a dropped oil pan.

We’re also low-key rooting for Mike’s Diesel here—not because they’re automatically in the right, but because small businesses like this are the backbone of places like Beckham County. They’re the kind of shop that’ll let you pay in installments if you’re short, who’ll tow your rig in the middle of the night, who’ll stay late because they know you’ve got a delivery to make. And when someone takes advantage of that goodwill? It stings. It undermines the whole ecosystem of trust that keeps local economies running.

So yeah, $13,584.16 might seem like a modest sum in the grand scheme of civil lawsuits. But in this context? It’s a stand. It’s a line in the grease-stained dirt. And whether this case ends in a courtroom verdict or a last-minute settlement in the parking lot of a Waffle House, one thing’s clear: in the wild world of civil disputes, even unpaid repair bills can turn into full-blown sagas. And in Oklahoma, apparently, nobody messes with a diesel mechanic’s paycheck. Not even a trucking company with a name that sounds like a wrestling tag team.