Carma HoldCo Retains Mick Foley and Kane After Tyson and Ric Flair Drop a $50 Million Lawsuit Like a Steel Chair

By Boof du Jour

An Exposé

If you ever wanted proof that cannabis is not an industry, it’s a haunted house with invoices, here you go.

In December 2025, Mike Tyson and Ric Flair helped light a legal tire fire by filing a $50 million lawsuit tied to Carma HoldCo, alleging an everything-bagel of misconduct that includes fraud, racketeering-style claims, and executives treating the company like a “personal piggy bank.”

Carma’s response, according to sources familiar with the company’s internal panic rituals, was swift.

They hired Mick Foley and Kane as attorneys. Not as brand ambassadors. Not as “strategic advisors.” Not as a limited-run vape flavor collaboration called Objection: Sustained.

Attorneys. The only thing more believable than that is the cannabis industry pretending it has EBITDA.

Statement of the Problem: Everyone Loves Celebrity Weed Until the Spreadsheet Shows Up

Celebrity cannabis runs on a simple premise: A famous person supplies a face, a catchphrase, and enough cultural gravity to make a CPG deck feel like destiny. Then the money starts moving. Then the definitions start moving faster than the money.

And sooner or later, someone asks the question every licensing deal is designed to delay:

“Can I see the underlying numbers?”

According to reporting on the lawsuit, Tyson and Flair’s complaint doesn’t just allege “oops, royalties were confusing.” It alleges a more aggressive narrative: fraud, self-dealing, and misuse of funds, including claims executives siphoned money for personal expenses and allegedly manipulated valuation and share sales.

Which is a polite way of saying: This was not a clerical error. This was a lifestyle.

Exhibit A: The Carma “Talent Portal” (Where Numbers Go to Become Philosophy)

Boof du Jour has reviewed screenshots of Carma’s internal royalty portal, a dashboard that looks like it was designed by someone who learned finance from a pyramid scheme and UI from a county website.

CARMA TALENT PORTAL

• Gross Sales: Yes

• Adjusted Gross Sales: Sure

• Net Revenue: Absolutely

• Adjusted Net Revenue: Don’t ask

• Royalty Owed: “Auto-calculated”

• Royalty Paid: “Processing”

• Variance: “Normal”

A tooltip next to “Net Revenue” reads:

“Net Revenue reflects market conditions.”

That’s not a definition. That’s a threat.

There is no “Export CSV.” There is no “View Calculation.” There is only a pulsing gray spinner that communicates, spiritually, that you are not supposed to be here.

Exhibit B: Mick Foley’s Royalty Method, Also Known as Hardcore Accounting

Foley’s first appearance at Carma’s offices reportedly included a briefcase, a tie, and a folding chair.

He is allegedly responsible for “explaining” how royalties were calculated, using a proprietary model known internally as:

THE HARDCORE ACCOUNTING FRAMEWORK (HAF)

It works like this:

1. Start with Gross Sales

2. Deduct “Industry Standard” fees

3. Deduct “Necessary” fees

4. Deduct “Strategic” fees

5. Deduct “Emergency” fees

6. Deduct “Post-emergency reconciliation” fees

7. Announce Net Revenue

8. Act offended anyone is still awake

Line items observed in the HAF ledger include:

• Brand management fees

• Brand management oversight fees

• Marketing fees

• Marketing alignment fees

• “Growth initiatives” (with no initiatives listed)

• Platform infrastructure

• Executive travel, categorized as “partner relations”

• Other (which is where the bodies are buried)

When asked why royalty checks looked anaemic next to expansion press releases, Foley reportedly told a room full of adults: “Margins don’t recover. They just stop moving.”

Then he left. Nobody followed him. That’s how you know it worked.

Exhibit C: Kane’s Discovery Readiness Program

Every company has a legal strategy. Carma has a silence strategy, and it reportedly wears a red tie and doesn’t blink.

An internal memo titled DISCOVERY READINESS PLAYBOOK outlines a seven-step protocol for responding to requests for detail:

1. Acknowledge request

2. Affirm commitment to transparency

3. Provide summary figures only

4. Explain that cannabis accounting is complex

5. Route follow-ups to legal

6. Delay pending “internal alignment”

7. Reaffirm commitment to transparency

A footer note reads:

“If partner continues to escalate, enforce confidentiality provisions.”

Kane’s job, sources say, is to sit in the room during “audit conversations” and make sure nobody confuses curiosity with survivability.

People leave those meetings believing two things:

1. They never really understood net revenue

2. They should stop asking

The Part Nobody Wants to Say Out Loud: This Lawsuit Reads Like a RICO Fanfic Written by a CFO

Most cannabis lawsuits are petty and predictable. This one is not subtle.

Multiple outlets have reported that the complaint alleges a broad scheme, with language invoking racketeering-style conduct and describing misconduct like embezzlement, wire fraud, and money laundering, plus allegations of executives enriching themselves and creating “no-show” arrangements.

That matters, because it changes the temperature of the room.

This isn’t “we disagree about net vs gross.” This is “someone call a therapist for the cap table.”

It also highlights the real reason celebrity cannabis is such a consistent disaster: it’s not built like a business. It’s built like a touring act.

A licensing company is not a farm. It’s a switchboard. It routes money, contracts, and narrative. If the switchboard starts lying, everyone downstream is just listening to dial tone.

Carma’s Greatest Trick: Turning ‘Industry Standard’ Into a Legal Position

In cannabis, “industry standard” is the phrase you use when:

• You don’t want to explain something

• You can’t explain something

• You are actively hiding something

• Or you are about to charge someone for “strategic advisory services” performed by a guy who owns three blazers and a Bluetooth headset

“Industry standard” is how you turn vibes into policy. “Industry standard” is how you turn a royalty partner into an unsecured creditor with a podcast.

And “industry standard” is how you get to a moment where two of the most recognizable men in American culture are now in federal court orbit over the question: Where did the money go?

Unofficial Carma HR Guidance (Leaked)

SUBJECT: External Coverage Containment TO: All Staff FROM: People Operations (Interim)

• Do not comment publicly on the lawsuit

• Do not comment privately on the lawsuit

• Do not say “holy shit” in Slack, use “noted”

• If asked about royalties, respond: “Carma is committed to transparency.”

• If asked what that means, schedule a meeting titled: “Alignment”

• If asked again, loop in Kane

Reminder: Forward all press inquiries to Legal. Do not attempt to “clarify” anything unless you enjoy depositions.

Closing Argument: The Industry Should Treat This Like a Fire Drill

You do not need to love celebrities to understand why this matters.

A $50 million lawsuit doesn’t happen because someone missed a checkbox. It happens because a system operated long enough without accountability that everyone involved started believing the dashboard was reality.

Tyson and Flair are not suing because their weed didn’t slap. They’re suing because, according to the reporting, they believe they were lied to, looted, or both. Carma can call it a dispute. The complaint calls it a conspiracy. The industry should call it what it always is: A reminder that cannabis is the only sector where a company can raise money, sell product, announce “strategic leadership,” and still treat basic accounting like forbidden scripture.

Somewhere inside Carma’s portal, the royalty spinner is still spinning.

And if you’re in cannabis reading this with a rev-share deal, a licensing partner, or a contract that defines “net revenue” in one sentence and vibes in the rest, here’s your action item:

Find your audit clause before your audit clause finds you.

Because the next time you hear “industry standard,” it might not be a reassurance.

It might be Foley unfolding a chair.