In the week leading up to the third annual CompetitionPlus.com War Stories we will re-publish some of the finest moments from last two years competition. You'll hear some of the finest stories laid down in competition. The program works like this: 16 figures within the drag racing community are voted on by the readers of CompetitionPlus.com to determine who they feel could tell the best story. From that voting, an NHRA professional elimination ladder pairs the contestants and they battle it out until one is left.

Today's story comes from Pat Musi, the iconic Pro Street pioneer and last year's runner-up War Stories Showdown. This story advanced Musi to the quarter-finals.

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PAT MUSI - 2008 WAR STORIES RUNNER-UP

WHO ELECTED ME %$#@&*^ SHERIFF?

Up in Jersey, we have our own kind of way of doling out justice.

When you do it the Pat Musi way, sometimes you end up in court. In my instance, I ended up on the People’s Court.

The story goes back a few years in my hometown of Carteret – about 30 minutes outside of Englishtown. My kids were young and the neighborhood was a really peaceful quiet one until my neighbor moved out and allowed his nephew to move in. He was a real piece of work.

A year goes by of dealing with partying and then he basically doesn’t pay the uncle rent and the house ends up in bankruptcy, so he becomes a squatter.

The neighbors keep moving derelicts into the basement and I keep throwing them out and for some reason, the neighborhood believes I am the sheriff.

One day the neighbor’s pit bulls get loose and mauled one of my kid’s Jack Russell terriers. We were able to save the dog but it cost a $480 vet bill.

I’m so mad I’m ready to shoot these two dogs but I didn’t because they are only a product of the environment.

My wife pleads that the kid is holed up in the house scared of me and says that he plans to pay the vet bill. Of course, this guy hasn’t paid rent in a year. I’m not holding my breath expecting payment of this bill.

A month goes by, and no reimbursement and one of the neighbors call. The kid and his group are having a loud party. Again, they think I’m the sheriff.

This was absolutely the wrong time, it was a Saturday and all of my crew was in the shop and we were goofing off.

Knowing my crew, I said if they are having a party and there are 10 of them there – surely, we can get $480 out of them.

We set out originally to slap the first one out the gate and surely we could fill the vet bill from there.

It was supposed to go that way.

The first guy out I open-handed slapped after he got smart with me and he lost a tooth.

The ringleader came to the gate and wouldn’t come out and saw his buddy lying on the ground.

I told him this was the day to settle up our debt and it was his lucky day. I gave him five minutes to settle up or I’d take it out of his car.

He started whining, I looked at my watch and told him he had four minutes left.

I waited patiently with my ball bat and five minutes later asked him … nothing.

Bam! I took a fender and headlight out.

Told him that was $240 and asked him if he had the rest.

He’s on the phone dialing 9-1-1.

I made sure the cops on the phone heard me ask him for the other $240.

I took out the other headlight and fender and knew I was close to $480.

I wasn’t sure, though. I took out the hood and told the boy if I went over $480, that I would reimburse him for the difference.

Well, you knew it was coming and I went downtown via police cruiser. Of course, the police was having a hard time keep me restrained from getting him because I was going to get bailed out, whip him right there to save the police time from having to come out and get me because there was more important stuff they needed to do.

Well I went home and nothing transpired until the phone rang. It was the People’s Court. They offered to pay the court costs, whatever settlement and give me an extra $250.

The judge was just blown away that I had come so close to the damage number and asked me how I did it.

That’s when, right there on television, I introduced my buddy who ran a body shop. I explained to the judge how my buddy was standing alongside, advising me how much each part cost plus labor as I was smashing.

The judge just dropped his head and shook it.

He looked at me off camera and just kind of grinned.

I was found guilty. But, I clearly got the last laugh.

As the reporter was interviewing them at the end of the show, they were served with eviction papers.

I smiled from a distance when they were informed that I had just purchased the house.