CREDIT ACCEPTANCE CORPORATION v. JUSTIN P. COLES & RONALD L. BREWER

Let’s get one thing straight: nobody likes getting sued for $10,722 over a car deal gone sideways — especially when the company suing you has a name that sounds like a rejected boy band from the early 2000s. But welcome to rural Oklahoma, where Credit Acceptance Corporation has decided it’s time to stop playing nice and start filing lawsuits. The target? Justin P. Coles and Ronald L. Brewer, two guys who probably thought they were just signing paperwork for a used car, not stepping into what feels like the opening scene of a low-budget legal thriller.

Now, let’s back up. Who are these people? On one side, you’ve got Credit Acceptance Corporation — not a bank, not a dealership, but a financing company that specializes in, well, accepting credit. Or more accurately, accepting the risk that other lenders won’t. They’re the kind of outfit that steps in when your local car lot says, “We can sell you a 2015 Kia Soul with 187,000 miles… but only if someone else agrees to loan you the money.” Credit Acceptance swoops in, funds the deal, and then becomes the entity you owe — often at not-the-most-favorable terms. They’re based in Michigan, operate nationwide, and have built an entire business model around people who need wheels more than they need financial breathing room.

On the other side, we have Justin P. Coles and Ronald L. Brewer — names so generic they might as well be played by stock photos in a PowerPoint about “Common Debtors.” We don’t know their relationship — were they co-signers? Family members? Roommates who both signed for the same junker? Did one talk the other into buying a car they both regretted? The filing doesn’t say, but the fact that they’re being sued together suggests they both put their John Hancocks on the same contract. And now, Credit Acceptance Corporation is treating them like a single financial unit, which is either very efficient or very cold-blooded, depending on your view of debt collection.

So what happened? Again, the court documents are as sparse as a Midwest winter, but we can piece together the most likely scenario. At some point — probably not too long ago — Coles and Brewer entered into a financing agreement with Credit Acceptance Corp. to buy a vehicle. This wasn’t a cash deal. No, this was “we’ll get you into a car today with no money down and payments you probably can afford.” Classic subprime auto lending. The kind of deal where the interest rate is so high it should come with a warning label.

Then, somewhere down the line, the payments stopped. Maybe one of them lost a job. Maybe the transmission blew three days after driving off the lot. Maybe they just decided the monthly hit wasn’t worth the privilege of driving a car that sounds like a popcorn machine. Whatever the reason, the money stopped flowing to Credit Acceptance. And when that happens — when the checks stop clearing and the voicemails go unanswered — companies like this don’t send sad emails. They send lawyers.

Enter Greg A. Metzer, OBA No. 11432 — which, by the way, sounds like a character from a John Grisham novel who wears too much cologne and owns a speedboat he never uses. Metzer, of Metzer & Austin, P.L.L.C., is the attorney on record here, and he’s not here to negotiate. He’s here to collect. The petition he filed in Hughes County District Court on January 1, 2024 — New Year’s Day, no less — is about as straightforward as a lawsuit gets. No dramatic affidavits. No claims of fraud or identity theft. Just one sentence doing the heavy lifting: “The Defendants are indebted to the Plaintiff in the sum of $10,722.06 for balance due on contract.” That’s it. No explanation. No context. Just: you owe us, and we’re suing.

The legal claim? Breach of contract. Fancy term, simple idea: you agreed to pay, you didn’t pay, so now we’re asking the court to make you pay. In plain English, this isn’t about stolen property or slander or someone backing into a mailbox. This is about a promise — a contract — that wasn’t kept. Credit Acceptance says, “We held up our end. We gave you money. You said you’d pay it back. You didn’t. Now we want the court to order you to pay, plus interest, plus our lawyer’s fee, because that’s how this game works.”

And what do they want? $10,722.06. Let that sink in. Ten thousand, seven hundred twenty-two dollars and six cents. That’s not chump change — that’s a solid used car down payment, a year’s worth of groceries, or, if you’re lucky, six months of rent in some parts of Oklahoma. But in the world of auto debt, is it a lot? Depends on who you ask. If you’re making $30,000 a year in rural Hughes County, that sum could feel like a mountain. If you’re the kind of person who buys cars through high-interest financing because your credit score looks like a typo, $10K might be less shocking — though no less painful.

The kicker? The lawsuit also asks for “a reasonable attorney’s fee.” So not only do Coles and Brewer potentially owe the principal and interest, but they might also have to pay part of the cost of being sued. Which, let’s be honest, feels a little like being charged for the handcuffs when you get arrested. It’s legal. It’s common. But it still stings.

Now, here’s where we, the narrators of petty civil drama, take a moment to editorialize — because come on, this case is wild in its mundanity. A corporation files a bare-bones lawsuit on New Year’s Day — not exactly the time most people are thinking about debt collection. No drama. No scandal. Just cold, mechanical capitalism in motion. The most absurd part? Not the amount. Not the names. It’s the certainty with which this whole thing unfolds. Credit Acceptance didn’t call. Didn’t negotiate. Didn’t offer a payment plan. They didn’t even wait until after the ball dropped in Times Square. January 1st. First filing of the year. Probably the first on Metzer’s docket. “Happy New Year — you’re being sued.”

Are we rooting for the defendants? Honestly, yes. Not because they’re innocent — we don’t know that — but because the whole system feels tilted. A faceless company sues two individuals for a debt tied to a car that may have already fallen apart, using a lawyer with a bar number instead of a first name, all over a contract most people sign without reading. It’s not evil. It’s not even illegal. It’s just… bleak. Like watching someone get dunned for a Netflix subscription they forgot to cancel, but with a judge and a credit score on the line.

And yet — this is America. This is how it works. No blood. No crime scene. Just paperwork, interest, and the quiet hum of the civil court machine grinding forward. So here’s to Justin P. Coles and Ronald L. Brewer — may your defense be strong, your settlement be fair, and your next car last longer than your last loan. And to Credit Acceptance Corporation: congrats on the first lawsuit of 2024. Hope it pays for Metzer’s speedboat.