FIRST FIDELITY BANK, N.A. v. RAVEN COLE PRICE

Let’s cut straight to the drama: a woman bought a brand-new 2021 RAM 1500 — a truck so big and shiny it could probably pull a small house — and now a bank is suing her for $32,724.61 because she stopped paying. Not because the truck got stolen by pirates or eaten by a sinkhole, not because she drove it off a cliff in a fit of romantic despair — no, she just… didn’t pay. And now, in a move as classic as it is crushing, the bank wants every last penny, plus interest, plus fees, plus the entire weight of the legal system. Welcome to America, where your credit score is your moral character and a car payment can turn into a courtroom saga.

Now, let’s talk about who we’re dealing with here. On one side, you’ve got First Fidelity Bank, N.A. — not a person, not a villain with a mustache-twirling laugh, but a faceless financial institution that exists mostly in spreadsheets and boardrooms. They don’t lend money out of the goodness of their hearts; they do it because interest rates are their love language. On the other side is Raven Cole Price, an individual with, presumably, a driver’s license, a credit history, and at some point, very big truck dreams. We don’t know if she’s a rancher, a contractor, or just someone who really, really wanted a vehicle that says “I mean business.” But we do know she walked into a dealership — Seth Wadley Auto Group, if you’re taking notes — on December 22, 2021, and drove out in a 2021 RAM 1500, fresh off the lot, smelling like new leather and American manufacturing.

Now, that truck didn’t come with a “free” sticker. No, it came with payments — regular, scheduled, auto-debit-from-your-account kind of payments. That’s how car loans work. You borrow money to buy the car, you promise to pay it back over time, and if you don’t? Well, the lender has a few options. One of them is repossessing the vehicle. And that’s exactly what happened here. The filing doesn’t say why Raven stopped paying — maybe she lost her job, maybe the transmission blew and repairs cost more than the car was worth, maybe she just decided the monthly bill was too steep and handed over the keys. But whatever the reason, she defaulted. And when you default on a car loan, the bank doesn’t just sigh and write it off like a bad date. They take action. They send the repo guys. And in this case, they got the truck back.

But here’s where it gets juicy — and by juicy, we mean “financially devastating.” Just because the bank repossessed the truck doesn’t mean the debt disappeared. In fact, when they sold it — likely at auction or through a secondary dealer — the sale didn’t cover what Raven still owed. That gap? That’s called a deficiency balance, and it’s the financial booby trap hidden in plain sight in most auto loans. Let’s say you owe $40,000 on a car, and the bank sells it for $15,000. Guess what? You still owe that $25,000 difference — plus fees, plus interest, plus the bank’s legal team’s coffee budget. In this case, after selling the truck, there’s still $32,724.61 on the hook. That’s not chump change. That’s a down payment on a house in some parts of Oklahoma. That’s two years of rent. That’s a lot of ramen.

So why are they in court? Because First Fidelity Bank, now the official holder of Raven’s debt (they were assigned the loan, meaning the original lender probably sold it to them, like trading baseball cards but with interest rates), is filing a civil lawsuit to collect that deficiency. The legal term is “breach of contract,” but in plain English? She signed a deal to pay, she didn’t pay, and now they want the money. They’re not asking for the truck back — it’s already gone. They’re not asking for an apology. They’re asking for a judgment from the court that says, “Yes, Raven Cole Price owes this money,” so they can potentially garnish wages, freeze bank accounts, or just sit on the judgment like a vulture waiting for her to have money again.

And what do they want? $32,724.61 in principal. Check. Interest — not just any interest, but 6.24% per year, which is actually kind of low by predatory lending standards, but still adds up — from January to April 2026, totaling $514.69. Add that in. Then they want prejudgment and post-judgment interest, which means the debt keeps growing while the case is pending and after the court rules — because of course it does. They also want “all costs of this action,” which includes filing fees, process servers, and probably some notary stamps. And, in a move so standard it’s practically boilerplate, they’re asking for a “reasonable attorney fee” — which, thanks to Oklahoma law (12 O.S. § 936), they might actually get, even if they’re represented in-house. So not only does Raven potentially owe the full deficiency, but she might also have to pay for the bank’s lawyer to sue her. The financial equivalent of being kicked while you’re already on the ground.

Now, is $32,724.61 a lot? In the world of car loans, yes and no. For a used truck, that’s a decent chunk of change. But for a new RAM 1500 in 2021? That’s actually on the lower end of what people were paying, especially if it was loaded with options — heated seats, premium sound system, the works. The real issue isn’t the amount; it’s that she still owes it after the car was taken back. That’s the brutal truth of auto financing: you can lose the car and still be on the hook for thousands. And while some people walk away from underwater loans and just let their credit tank, others end up in court, defending themselves against balance sheets that don’t care about hardship.

Our take? The most absurd part isn’t that someone defaulted on a car loan — that happens every day. It’s that the system allows a bank to repossess a vehicle, sell it for less than it’s worth, and then sue the original buyer for the difference like it’s just business as usual. And sure, technically, it is. But let’s not pretend this is some neutral, fair transaction. This is a system built to protect lenders first, borrowers second, and common sense a distant third. We’re not saying Raven Cole Price is a saint — we don’t know her story. Maybe she bought a $60,000 truck on a $30,000 salary. Maybe she knew the risks. But we’re also not pretending First Fidelity Bank is some innocent party here. They approved the loan. They priced the interest. They structured the deal knowing full well that if things went south, she’d be the one in court, not them.

So who are we rooting for? Honestly? The RAM 1500. That truck was probably beautiful. It had a V8, a tow package, maybe even a cool decal package. It deserved better than being collateral in a financial war. Meanwhile, Raven’s probably driving the bus, and the bank’s probably updating their spreadsheets. And the court? They’ll likely rule in favor of the plaintiff, because that’s how these cases usually go. Another day, another deficiency judgment. Another reminder that in America, you can lose your car and your future — one repossession at a time.

We’re entertainers, not lawyers. But if this were a movie, we’d call it Truck Stop Heartbreak.