Todd Carrico v. JAG Buildings, LLC

Let’s cut straight to the drama: a man paid a contractor to pour a concrete slab for his new building, and now he’s suing for $150,000—$75,000 for breach of contract, another $75,000 for breach of warranty—because the slab is so poorly done that engineers are saying, “Just tear it out and start over.” This isn’t a crack here or there. This is a full-scale structural facepalm. And the contractor? According to the filing, they won’t even show up to look at it. That’s like a chef refusing to taste the soup after you tell him it’s made of motor oil.

So who are these people? On one side, we’ve got Todd Carrico, a regular homeowner (or small property developer, hard to say) living in Tulsa County, Oklahoma, trying to build a 40x60-foot building—probably a shop, garage, or maybe a hobby barn—out in Skiatook, which is basically where the city ends and the cows begin. He’s not some corporate entity. He’s a guy with a property, a dream, and a checkbook. On the other side: JAG Buildings, LLC, a local construction company that, based on the name, probably specializes in metal buildings, slabs, and turnkey structures. They’re not some fly-by-night operation—registered in Oklahoma, based in Tulsa County, and presumably have done this before. But somewhere between March 2024 and January 2025, things went from “Let’s build a building” to “Let’s build a lawsuit.”

Here’s how it all went sideways. On March 4, 2024, JAG sent Todd a written quote—what they call a “Purchase Agreement/Quote”—for the construction of the building, including the concrete slab. Todd signed it. Boom: contract formed. No handshake, no “trust me, bro,” just a signed document. That’s important. Because when things go wrong, paper doesn’t lie. JAG was supposed to pour a concrete slab—4 inches thick, with rebar properly placed. Standard stuff. Not rocket science. Not art. This is like the “grilled cheese sandwich” of construction: simple, but if you mess it up, you’ve got no business cooking.

But according to Todd, JAG didn’t just mess it up. They nuked it. The slab? Less than 4 inches thick in places. The rebar? Not where it’s supposed to be. When you skimp on rebar placement or pour thin concrete, you’re not just cutting corners—you’re inviting cracks, settling, and eventual collapse. It’s like building a bridge out of soda crackers. And this isn’t Todd just being picky. He brought in 360 Engineering Group, PLLC—a legit engineering firm—to assess the damage. And their verdict? “Remove and repair.” Not “patch it.” Not “add some epoxy.” Tear it out and start over. That’s the construction equivalent of a doctor saying, “We’re gonna have to amputate.”

Now, tearing out and replacing a 2,400-square-foot concrete slab isn’t cheap. But that’s not even the worst part. Because the building was already framed, and electrical and plumbing were installed on top of the slab. So now, to fix the foundation, Todd has to rip out framing, rework electrical, redo plumbing, and then pour a new slab. It’s a domino effect of disaster. And according to the petition, the total cost? Over $75,000. That’s not a typo. Seventy-five grand to fix what should’ve been a routine pour.

So why is Todd in court? Two reasons, both wrapped in legal packaging but easy to unpack. First: breach of contract. You agreed to do a job. You didn’t do it right. That’s breach. Simple. JAG promised a 4-inch slab with proper rebar. They delivered a substandard slab. That’s not a misunderstanding. That’s a failure to perform. Second: breach of warranty. The contract included a one-year warranty on labor and workmanship—standard in construction. But when Todd raised the red flag, JAG allegedly ghosted him. No inspection. No fix. No “Hey, we’ll make it right.” Just radio silence. And in legal terms, that’s not just rude—it’s a breach of the warranty. You can’t offer a warranty and then refuse to honor it. That’s like selling a phone with a “one-year screen replacement guarantee” and then ignoring every call after the screen cracks.

Now, let’s talk money. Todd is asking for $75,000 on the contract claim and another $75,000 on the warranty claim—totaling $150,000 in damages. But wait—the relief sought section says he’s only demanding $75,000 in monetary damages. Huh? Here’s the twist: in the “WHEREFORE” clause (that’s lawyer-speak for “here’s what I want”), Todd asks for $75k on each claim. But legally, you can’t double-dip. You can’t get $75k for breach of contract and another $75k for breach of warranty for the same damages. The court isn’t going to hand you two checks for the same busted slab. So the $150,000 is likely a legal tactic—pleading in the alternative, in case one claim fails. But the real ask? $75,000 to cover the actual costs: demolition, rework, engineering fees, legal bills. And honestly? For a full structural redo, that’s not outrageous. A new slab alone could cost $10–$15 a square foot—that’s $24,000 to $36,000 just for concrete. Add in labor, rework on framing and utilities, engineering reports, legal fees, and yeah—$75k starts to look… reasonable. Painful, but reasonable.

So what’s our take? The most absurd part isn’t even the bad concrete. It’s the ghosting. You’re a contractor. You have a warranty. A client says, “Your work failed.” And your response is… nothing? Not “We’ll send a crew.” Not “Let’s assess it.” Not even “We deny liability.” Just crickets? That’s not just bad business. That’s a one-way ticket to lawsuit city. And look, we’re not saying every contractor has to fix every problem. Maybe JAG thinks the slab is fine and the engineer is overreacting. Maybe Todd moved sprinkler lines or overloaded the slab. But you don’t win that argument by ignoring it. You win it by showing up. By inspecting. By engaging. By acting like a professional.

We’re rooting for Todd, not because he’s flawless, but because he followed the playbook: he hired a pro, got it in writing, brought in an engineer when things went south, and now he’s using the legal system to demand accountability. And we’re side-eyeing JAG, not because one job went bad—stuff happens—but because their alleged refusal to even look at the problem makes it feel less like a mistake and more like a pattern. If this is how they handle warranty claims, God help their other clients.

At the end of the day, this isn’t really about concrete. It’s about trust. Todd trusted JAG to do a basic, fundamental part of a building. They failed. And then, instead of fixing it, they vanished. That’s not just a breach of contract. That’s a breach of common decency. And in the wild world of petty civil court drama, that’s the kind of behavior that earns you a $75,000 lesson in accountability. Pour the concrete right, or pay for it later—literally.