Brian Fernandez and Melissa Haskins v. Champion Home Builders Inc.
What's This Case About?
Let’s be real: you buy a house, you expect a roof over your head, not a full-body fungal infection. But for Brian Fernandez and Melissa Haskins of Sulphur, Oklahoma, their dream home turned into a toxic nightmare—a manufactured house so infested with mold it allegedly made them physically ill, emotionally wrecked, and financially drained. And now? They’re suing Champion Home Builders Inc. for $10,000, claiming the company sold them a death trap disguised as a cozy manufactured home on Delores Drive. Spoiler: it wasn’t just a leaky faucet. It was a full-blown biohazard.
So who are these people? Brian and Melissa aren’t reality TV villains or DIY disaster victims—they’re just two regular folks trying to live their best small-town lives in Murray County. They bought a manufactured home (not a fixer-upper, not a project, just a home) from Champion Home Builders Inc., a big-name player in the prefab housing game. You’d think that with a corporate builder comes some level of quality control—like, say, not selling a house already colonized by toxic mold. But according to the petition, that’s exactly what happened. The relationship started simple: buyer meets builder, signs paperwork, moves in. But instead of settling into domestic bliss, Brian and Melissa say they were thrust into a horror story starring black mold, crumbling foundations, and a company that allegedly ghosted them when they asked for help.
Here’s how it went down. The couple moved into 6869 Delores Drive, Sulphur, Oklahoma—charming name, less charming reality. At first, maybe it was just a musty smell. A damp corner. The kind of thing you blame on Oklahoma humidity. But then came the health issues. Coughing. Fatigue. Unexplained rashes. The kind of symptoms that make you Google “am I being slowly poisoned?” (Spoiler: they might have been.) By September 2024, they’d had enough. They called in two independent mold testing agencies—because one test could be a fluke, but two? That’s a pattern. And both came back with the same terrifying verdict: yes, your house is teeming with toxic mold. Not just a little spore here or there. We’re talking full-on fungal infestation, likely thriving thanks to structural defects like water intrusion and foundational flaws that Champion allegedly either ignored or never fixed.
Now, you’d think the builder would jump into action. “Oh no! Our bad! Let’s remediate!” But according to the filing, Champion didn’t lift a finger. The couple complained. They pointed to the defects. They showed the test results. And the response? Crickets. Or worse—indifference. Which is how you go from “homeowner with a problem” to “plaintiff in a six-count lawsuit.” Because when your house is literally making you sick and the company that sold it to you won’t fix it, you don’t just throw in the towel. You throw down a legal petition.
So why are they in court? Let’s break it down like we’re explaining it to a very confused jury member who just wanted free snacks. First up: negligence. Brian and Melissa are saying, “Hey, you built this house. You should’ve known it was a mold factory. You had a duty to warn us, inspect it, and keep it safe. You didn’t. Now we’re injured.” That’s negligence 101, folks. Then comes breach of contract—basically, “We paid for a livable home. This is not livable. Where’s the product you promised?” It’s like ordering a car and getting a go-kart with no engine. You were sold a home, not a hazmat zone.
Next, the implied warranty of habitability—a fancy way of saying, “Every home comes with an unspoken guarantee that it won’t kill you.” Surprise! This one might have. Then there’s implied warranty of merchantability, which sounds like corporate jargon but really just means, “This thing should work like a normal house.” A house that leaks, rots, and grows mold like it’s auditioning for The Last of Us? Not merchantable. Not even close.
Then it gets spicy. Nuisance—yes, that’s a legal term. It means the home isn’t just broken; it’s actively ruining their lives. Imagine trying to sleep while your walls are breathing spores. That’s not just inconvenient—it’s a legal nuisance. And finally, constructive eviction, which is a wild one: it means the home became so unbearable that they were forced to leave, even if they didn’t technically get kicked out. It’s like being evicted by mold. Nature’s landlord from hell.
So what do they want? $10,000. That’s not a fortune in the legal world. No seven-figure demand. No call for a lifetime supply of air purifiers. Just $10,000 to cover medical bills, ruined belongings, emotional distress, and the sheer indignity of living in a house that betrayed them. Is that a lot? For a corporation like Champion Home Builders? Probably less than the cost of one executive’s lunch. But for Brian and Melissa? That’s therapy, doctor visits, replacing furniture they had to throw out, and maybe, just maybe, a hotel room where the walls don’t smell like wet gym socks.
And here’s our take: the most absurd part isn’t even the mold. It’s the audacity of selling a home—especially a manufactured one, where every inch is supposed to be factory-checked—and then pretending the problem started after the sale. These aren’t homeowners who flooded their basement with a DIY pool. They’re people who followed the rules, bought a home from a professional builder, and got handed a health hazard. And when they said, “Hey, this is dangerous,” the response was radio silence? That’s not just bad customer service. That’s a moral failure wrapped in a legal disaster.
We’re not saying Champion Home Builders definitely did anything wrong—these are allegations, after all. But come on. Two mold tests. Structural defects. A couple suffering permanent and progressive injuries? And the builder does nothing? That’s not just negligent. That’s the kind of corporate shrug that makes people lose faith in the whole system. We’re rooting for Brian and Melissa not because they want $10,000, but because they’re demanding basic accountability. A home should be a sanctuary, not a lawsuit waiting to happen. And if Champion did sell a mold-ridden death box, then this case isn’t petty. It’s overdue.
Jury trial demanded. Popcorn ready. Let the spore wars begin.
Case Overview
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Brian Fernandez and Melissa Haskins
individual
Rep: Tom M. Cummings
- Champion Home Builders Inc. business
| # | Cause of Action | Description |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | negligence | Plaintiffs claim Defendant failed to notify them of the risk of toxic mold and foundational issues in the home, leading to permanent injuries and damages. |
| 2 | breach of contract | Plaintiffs claim Defendant breached the contract for the sale of the home by failing to provide a safe and habitable dwelling. |
| 3 | breach of implied warranty of habitability | Plaintiffs claim Defendant breached the implied warranty of habitability by selling a home that was not safe to inhabit. |
| 4 | breach of implied warranty of merchantability | Plaintiffs claim Defendant breached the implied warranty of merchantability by selling a defective home that was not fit for its purpose. |
| 5 | nuisance | Plaintiffs claim Defendant created a nuisance by manufacturing and delivering a defective home with mold contamination and other defects. |
| 6 | constructive eviction | Plaintiffs claim Defendant constructively evicted them from their home by making it uninhabitable due to mold contamination and other defects. |