Hitchcock Distributing, Inc. v. Okolahoma Soda Company, LLC

Let’s cut straight to the drama: a soda company tried to fire its distributor with cause—but forgot to actually, y’know, give them a chance to fix whatever they allegedly did wrong. And now? They’re being sued for $23,140.85. That’s not a typo. The .85 is included. Someone did their math very precisely. This isn’t a gangland betrayal or a celebrity scandal—it’s a corporate tiff over bubbly beverages, contractual technicalities, and the sacred right to get paid your termination fee like a grown-up business person. Welcome to Crazy Civil Court, where the stakes are real, the soda is flat, and the paperwork is fire.

Meet the players. On one side, we’ve got Hitchcock Distributing, Inc., a family-adjacent operation based in Durant, Oklahoma—small-town energy, big-dreams hustle. They’re the kind of company that probably has a logo with a retro font and a truck with their name wrapped on the side. Their job? To get soda into stores, coolers, and convenience store fridges across their patch of Oklahoma. They’re the middleman, the muscle, the “we’ll handle the logistics” folks. On the other side: Okolahoma Soda Company, LLC—yes, spelled with a K, because nothing says “artisanal beverage startup” like creative spelling and questionable legal follow-through. OSC is the brand—the fizzy dreamers with labels, recipes, and probably a mission statement about “reviving classic flavors with a modern twist.” In 2023, these two joined forces in the most thrilling way two beverage businesses can: a distribution agreement. It was, in corporate terms, a marriage of convenience. OSC made the soda. Hitchcock got it to the people. Everyone shook hands. Probably drank a complimentary can. All was well. Until it wasn’t.

The relationship sours somewhere between April 2023 and November 2025. We don’t know why—the filing doesn’t say OSC accused Hitchcock of botching deliveries, alienating retailers, or accidentally spilling root beer on a VIP client. What we do know is that OSC decided they wanted out. And that’s fine! Business breakups happen. But how you break up matters. Especially when there’s a contract.

Enter: Paragraph 9. The holy text of this case. The rulebook. The Ten Commandments of Soda Distribution Termination. According to the agreement, there are two ways to end this relationship: without cause or with cause. If you’re breaking up without cause—meaning, “we just don’t vibe anymore”—you give 60 days’ notice, and the departing party (in this case, the supplier, OSC) has to pay the distributor a termination fee. That fee? 3.5 times the distributor’s gross profit from the last 12 months. Simple math. Cold, hard, contractual love. If you’re breaking up with cause—like, “you violated the agreement, you monster”—then you have to give the other side 90 days to fix their mistakes. That’s the cure period. It’s like a corporate timeout. “You messed up? Here’s three months to clean it up. If not? Bye.”

So what does OSC do? On November 25, 2025, they send a document titled—dramatic pause—“Official Termination Notice – Hitchcock Distributing.” It’s got weight. It’s got official in the title. It says the termination is “With Cause” and will be effective January 24, 2026—exactly 60 days later. That’s… not how it works. If it’s with cause, you need to give 90 days to fix it. Not 60. And OSC didn’t send any notice before that saying, “Hey, you’re in breach, fix it or else.” Nothing. No warning. No chance to redeem themselves. Just: You’re out. With cause. See ya.

Hitchcock’s legal team—led by Thomas Marcum of the Burrage Law Firm, who clearly enjoys a good contract clause as much as the next litigator—read that notice and went, “Hold up. You can’t just say ‘with cause’ and then give us 60 days like it’s a breakup with no strings. That’s not with cause. That’s without cause with a dramatic label.” And here’s the kicker: if it’s without cause, OSC owes Hitchcock a termination fee. And not just any fee—3.5 times the last 12 months’ gross profit. According to the filing, Hitchcock made $6,514.30 in gross profit over that period. Do the math: 3.5 x $6,514.30 = $22,800.05. Add in the cost of the leftover soda OSC is contractually required to buy back—$340.80—and you’ve got a total demand of $23,140.85. That’s not a round number. That’s someone opening Excel and going, “We’re getting every penny.”

So why are they in court? Because OSC said, “We’re firing you with cause,” which means—according to them—no termination fee. But Hitchcock says, “You didn’t follow the rules. You didn’t give us 90 days to fix anything. So this isn’t with cause. It’s without cause in a ‘with cause’ costume. And we want our $23,140.85.” The legal claim? Breach of contract. OSC didn’t follow the termination procedures in the agreement. That’s it. That’s the whole ballgame. No fraud. No embezzlement. No secret soda recipe theft. Just: You didn’t follow the rules you wrote.

Now, is $23,140.85 a lot of money? In the grand scheme of lawsuits, it’s pocket change. It’s not going to buy a house in most cities. But for a small distributor in Durant? That’s real money. That’s payroll for a few weeks. That’s new equipment. That’s the difference between staying afloat and having to downsize. And let’s not forget—the fee was in the contract. OSC agreed to this. They signed it. They could’ve just paid it and walked away with dignity. Instead, they tried to game the system with a flimsy “with cause” label and zero follow-through. And now they’re on the hook for the full amount—plus interest, costs, and attorney’s fees, if the court agrees.

Our take? The most absurd part isn’t the amount. It’s not even the spelling of “Okolahoma.” It’s the sheer laziness of the termination. OSC had a clear, written process. They ignored it. They didn’t send a cure notice. They didn’t document a breach. They just slapped “With Cause” on a letter like it was a Halloween costume and expected everyone to play along. This isn’t a case about betrayal. It’s a case about procedure. About respecting the rules you agree to. About not thinking you can just say something is true and have it be true. If OSC had just admitted it was a no-fault split and paid the fee, this could’ve been a quiet, professional exit. Instead, they turned a routine business separation into a courtroom showdown over $23k and a decimal point.

We’re rooting for Hitchcock. Not because they’re saints. Not because OSC definitely did anything wrong. But because contracts matter. And when you write the rules, you gotta play by them. Otherwise, what’s next? A soda company terminating a distributor via TikTok? A cease-and-desist in Comic Sans? Let’s keep some standards, people. This is civil court, not a middle school breakup.

So here’s to Hitchcock Distributing: may your profits rise, your inventory sell fast, and your legal victories come with exact change. And to Okolahoma Soda Company: maybe next time, read Paragraph 9 before you hit send.