SE Feeders Durant, LLC, d/b/a Hardy Farms v. Virgil Bailey, d/b/a Bailey Feed
What's This Case About?
Let’s be honest: nothing says “high drama” quite like a 17-ton truckload of custom cattle feed sparking a legal war. But in rural Oklahoma, where the stakes are measured in corn prices and credit terms, a $12,909.92 unpaid bill isn’t just a number—it’s a full-blown range war, paperwork edition. Welcome to the courtroom showdown between SE Feeders Durant, LLC—fancy name, corporate vibe, doing business as Hardy Farms—and Virgil Bailey, a small-time cattleman from Antlers, Oklahoma, who apparently forgot to pay for enough feed to sustain a small nation of cows.
So who are these people? On one side, we’ve got Hardy Farms, a limited liability company based in Durant, Bryan County, that sells feed, grain, and other bovine buffet items. They’re the big(ish) fish in a small pond—organized, incorporated, and, most importantly, represented by counsel. J.W. Morgan, OBA #36730 (yes, the bar number is in the filing, because Oklahoma lawyers are nothing if not thorough), is here to make sure every penny is accounted for. Hardy Farms isn’t just selling feed—they’re selling it with terms. And those terms come with 1.5% monthly interest, which, if you’re bad at math, is an 18% annual interest rate—more than most credit cards charge. Yikes.
On the other side of the feed trough, we have Virgil Bailey, a man living the quiet life in Antlers, Oklahoma—a town so rural it makes “middle of nowhere” sound like downtown Manhattan. He runs Bailey Feed, a one-man (or one-family) cattle operation, breeding and raising livestock in Pushmataha County. He’s not incorporated. He’s not represented by a lawyer. He’s just a guy with cows, a feed order, and now, a lawsuit. The relationship between Bailey and Hardy Farms seems simple: he buys feed, they deliver it. It’s a classic agribusiness handshake deal—except with scale tickets, invoices, and a clause that would make a loan shark blush.
Now, let’s talk about what went down. Between December 13, 2024, and February 17, 2025, Bailey placed five separate orders for feed. Not just any feed, mind you—custom Bailey feed mix (yes, named after him, like a personal brand), whole corn, and DDG (that’s “distillers dried grains,” or, as we like to call it, “leftover beer mash for cows”). The first three shipments went out on December 13, totaling nearly $6,300. Then, two more on February 17, adding another $6,600. All told, that’s 12,909.92 reasons why Hardy Farms is now very, very annoyed.
The invoices are crystal clear: pay within 30 days, or get hit with 1.5% interest per month. That’s not a suggestion—it’s printed in bold on every scale ticket, like a tiny legal curse at the bottom of a receipt. And according to Exhibit A (a.k.a. “the paper trail of doom”), every single invoice is now “Over 90 days” past due. Not 31-60. Not 61-90. Over 90. That means the interest has been piling up like hay bales in a barn—quietly, steadily, and with compound fury. Hardy Farms says they’ve made “repeated demands.” We don’t know if those were polite phone calls, stern emails, or dramatic in-person visits with clipboard-wielding enforcers, but we do know one thing: Virgil Bailey did not pay.
So why are they in court? Because this isn’t just about feed. It’s about contract law, baby. Hardy Farms is suing for “breach of contract”—a fancy way of saying, “You agreed to pay, you didn’t, and now we’re taking you to court.” The claim is straightforward: we delivered the goods as agreed, you accepted them (no complaints, no returns, no “this corn is stale” drama), and yet, radio silence on the payment front. In legal terms, that’s a textbook breach. And since the contract included an interest clause and a jurisdiction clause (yes, Bailey allegedly agreed to let Bryan County courts handle any disputes—more on that later), Hardy Farms isn’t just asking for the principal. They want the interest, the court costs, and attorney’s fees. Because nothing says “I mean business” like billing for the lawyer who bills you for billing.
Now, what do they want? $12,909.92. Is that a lot? For a cattle operation, maybe not—it’s less than the price of a decent pickup truck. But for a small farmer in rural Oklahoma, that’s several months’ worth of feed, a year’s property tax, or a whole lot of vet bills. For a company like Hardy Farms, it’s probably a rounding error. But principle matters. And so does precedent. If they let one farmer slide, what’s to stop the next? Suddenly, the entire feed economy of southeastern Oklahoma is on a payment plan it never agreed to. So no, this isn’t just about the money. It’s about the message. And the message is: pay up, or we’ll see you in Bryan County court.
Here’s the kicker: Hardy Farms didn’t just file in any court. They filed in Bryan County, where they’re based—even though Virgil Bailey lives and operates in Pushmataha County, nearly 50 miles away. But wait, didn’t Bailey agree to that? According to the fine print on every invoice, yes. The document literally says: “Customer irrevocably consents… to submit any and all such matters… to the exclusive jurisdiction of the District Court of Bryan County, Oklahoma.” That means Bailey, by signing for the feed (or having his driver do it), may have waived his right to fight the venue. It’s like ordering a pizza and accidentally agreeing to be sued in Alaska if you don’t tip. Ruthless? Maybe. Legal? Probably.
Now, our take. The most absurd part of this whole saga isn’t the amount. It’s not even the 18% interest on unpaid feed. It’s the sheer bureaucracy of beef. We’re talking about a dispute over literal tons of corn and distillers’ grain—stuff that gets dumped out of trucks and eaten by cows that don’t care about contracts or interest rates. And yet, here we are, with lawyers, notaries, scale tickets, and a statement that looks like a credit card bill from the IRS. The whole thing reads like a parody of capitalism: a man buys food for animals, doesn’t pay, and now faces a court summons instead of a stern talking-to from the feed guy.
Are we rooting for the little guy? Sure. Virgil Bailey probably didn’t wake up one morning and think, “Today, I shall breach a contract and ignite a legal battle.” Maybe he’s cash-poor, maybe there was a misunderstanding, maybe his cows had a union strike and refused to produce enough milk to cover feed costs. We don’t know. But we do know this: when a feed invoice comes with a jurisdiction clause and an 18% interest rate, you’re not just buying corn. You’re signing up for a legal thriller.
So grab your popcorn, your cowboy boots, and a calculator. Because in the high-stakes world of Oklahoma cattle feed, the only thing more dangerous than a bull is an unpaid invoice. And this one’s got horns.
We’re entertainers, not lawyers. This is based on a real court filing, but we’re not giving legal advice. If you’re being sued for feed, maybe pay the bill. Just a thought.
Case Overview
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SE Feeders Durant, LLC, d/b/a Hardy Farms
business
Rep: J.W. Morgan, OBA #36730
- Virgil Bailey, d/b/a Bailey Feed individual
| # | Cause of Action | Description |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | breach of contract | unpaid invoices for feed and grain |