Eliminations are underway for the second annual CompetitionPlus.com War Stories Showdown, a competition which places sixteen of drag racing's personalities head-to-head in storytelling competition. Over the next four days, you will be presented with the first round strories of each respective contestants. They are paired on an NHRA eliminations ladder seeded by reader vote last week.

Today's competition features the #2 qualifier "Waterbed" Fred Miller versus #15 Ted Jones as well as #7 Whit Bazemore versus #10 Pat Musi. Voting concludes on December 28th at 5 PM.

For the next four weeks, CompetitionPlus.com will conduct its second annual War Stories Showdown. The veterans of yarn spinning are paired for what promises to be a series destined to produce the finest behind-the-scenes stories.

Here are the rules –

The field was seeded by reader vote. The participants are paired on the standard NHRA professional eliminations ladder. Each story represents an elimination run for the participant. The readers will judge each war story on the merits of (A) believability and (B) entertainment value. Please do not vote based on popularity. You are the judge and jury, so vote accordingly.

Voting lasts for three days per elimination match. Once a driver advances to the next round, they must submit a new war story.

This is an event based on fun and entertainment value, and the rules are simple. The stories cannot describe any felonious acts (unprosecuted, that is) and you can't use a story about your opponent, against them. That happened last year and wasn't pretty at all. There is a one event win rule.

This is drag racing with no red-lights, disqualifications and plenty of oil downs minus the clean-ups. Please enjoy as each of our competitors tell their own stories.

WINNER - deated Ted Jones, 77.01% to 22.99%

#2 – “Waterbed” Fred Miller

WAR STORIES CLAIM TO FAME – Once Rolled With Raymond Beadle …

LOAD THIS THING UP AND GET THE HECK OUTTA HERE

When you roll down the road with the likes of Raymond Beadle and “Jungle” Jim Liberman, if you don’t walk away with a story from either then something just isn’t right.

I can tell stories, and true ones, which will make you laugh so hard that you will cry – but they clearly won’t be PG-13. If I make it to the later rounds – then no one will be safe.

Back in the day with Beadle, you match raced to make a living. You raced at all kinds of places – some good, some bad and some really, really bad. We did over 100 dates our first season together.

When I first started out with Beadle and Harry Schmidt, we did a northwestern tour. One of those stops was at a small track in Oregon, I won’t name names.

This was a Bill Doner event and if you knew him, he put on the best races period. He was the definition of a promoter.

This particular night we had a match race with Jungle and two runs into the night, nothing appeared outside of the ordinary. There were lots of race fans there, which was usually the case, and we were thrashing to make our third run.

It was Harry Schmidt and myself working on the car.

We were working away and then Beadle comes running like a bat out of hell while still in his firesuit. Of course, Schmidt and I look at one another and then Beadle in a somewhat frantic but hushed tone tells us, “Load this thing up right now and get out of here.”

Obviously at this point something’s bad wrong here and we stop working. He emerges with his Levis and grabs his pistol, puts it in his firesuit and runs towards the tower.

About that time, you didn’t have to tell us twice.

Parts are flying and wrenches are scattering their way into the trailer, not to mention the car is quickly making its way into the trailer.

Keep in mind, we still don’t know what is going on and we haven’t heard any gunshots, so there is still time to escape.

We weren’t sure what had happened, but we conveyed the message to Jungle, who wasted no time packing up quickly.

Come to find out, the place is bursting at the seams with rabid race fans and there was a curfew that was going to cut out the third race. Well the fans at this place didn’t exactly look like the understanding type.

The crowd went upside down after paying a pretty high admission.

Beadle and Doner, being that they were Beadle and Doner, jumped in Doner’s helicopter and took off with all of the cash.

We fought our way through the crowd with the trucks and trailers and in the distance, we saw the tower ablaze. They had started a riot.

Meanwhile Beadle and Doner are out of there and we are trying to escape. We hauled ass out of there and got back to the hotel and they all split up the money.

But the fans didn’t realize that we did give them a third race.

The third race was who could get the rigs out of the track first without getting killed.

Needless to say we never raced there again.

By the way, for the record, we won the third round.

#15 – Ted “I’ll Decline Comment” Jones

WAR STORIES CLAIM TO FAME – Dealt With Billy Stepp, Roy Hill and Pat Musi All at the Same Race …

THE DAY LARRY SOCKED IT TO THE HARPER VALLEY PTA

I had the pleasure of working with IHRA founder Larry Carrier for many years and one of the first things I learned about him is that he was a very smart businessman and you had better be quick if you wanted to challenge him in a battle of wits.

One thing Larry was – was a promoter and a very good one. He knew how to get all the best drag racers to come to his events and he paid them really well to be there.

He had the mind of a promoter and the clear understanding of a spectator.

Back in the early 1970s, there was a trend amongst drag strips to promote rock concerts and there was one in Cincinnati that pulled off one with a great deal of success.

Being that Bristol was firmly entrenched in country and western, Larry decided he would do a huge country music gathering.

Larry booked in some of the biggest names you could get and set up two stages on the starting line. His plan was for one stage to be busy with a performer with the other dark with the roadies preparing for another show.

There were bales of hay sitting alongside the stages as additional seating in addition to the strip seats. There were spot lights on scaffolds and a huge PA system. He really did it right.

The show was filled with names such as Flatt & Scruggs, Roy Clark and a few other top name performers of that genre and era.

One of the largest names was lady named Jeannie C. Riley and you will recall her song Harper Valley P.T.A.

The show was a total flop in terms of advance and same day ticket sales. Larry was expecting about 20,000 – 25,000, and in reality he ended up with 1,500 paid.

He was going to go forward with the show because to him it was one of those things he tried and didn’t work.

Jeannie C. Riley rolled in with her custom bus because that’s how they traveled back then. She looked out and saw the really pitiful crowd. She was upset and sent for the promoter.

That’s when Larry and I paid a visit to her bus.

This is how the conversation went”

RILEY: Are you the promoter?

CARRIER: Yes ma'am, I am.

RILEY: You know I wondered about taking this gig in the first place being outdoors. I was told you were going to buy [advertising] on five television stations, ten radio stations, and print 100,000 brochures. This was going to be a big deal. I want you to know that I just performed in front of 25,000 people at the Houston Astrodome. I look out there at that joke of a crowd and you call yourself a promoter?

“You surely didn’t do all the advertising my agent said you were going to do.”

CARRIER: Ma'am, is that all you have to say?

RILEY: Yes, what is your answer?

CARRIER: My answer is simple, I did buy five television stations and then I got nervous and bought three more. I’ve bought commercials in Knoxville, Roanoke, and Asheville, NC. I didn’t buy ten radio stations, I bought twenty. We ran out of the 100,000 brochures and we did a second printing. I had 200,000 brochures in circulation.

“In addition I had telephone pole card signs made up and if you had looked out of the window of this fancy motorhome, you would have seen those signs coming in here. All I can tell you is that on all of those signs, all of the radio and television I never advertised that Larry Carrier was going to be here. Evidently they don’t want to see you.

“If you want to get paid you are going to go out there and perform in front of that crowd I do have there. Have a nice day Ma'am.”

Larry motioned for me to come along and we walked out.

But I just can’t seem to forget looking back and seeing her jaw hanging down in astonishment.

I just know that I had a front row seat the day Larry Carrier socked it to the Harper Valley PTA woman.

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#7 – Whit “My Name’s Not Blazemore” Bazemore

WAR STORIES CLAIM TO FAME – Almost Got Jeff Byrd Fired At R.J. Reynolds …

POOR, POOR MIKE DUNN, MY FOOT

When you’ve gained the kind of reputation for being outspoken as I am, you usually don’t get the benefit of the doubt in situations. For me, I know only one way and that is to lay it on the line.

Tell it like it is.

I’m really not as bad of a guy as I am all too often portrayed to be.

I’m outspoken, sure.

I’m not always pleasant in losing.

My story is of how your reputation doesn’t fully tell the true story of the real person.

My story relates to an experience I once had with my bike riding buddy Mike Dunn. We are really good friends.

In this particular ride, we had left the track in Topeka, and there’s some good riding there. There are good country roads with very little traffic.

On this day, we were doing a 50-mile loop.

We’re out there on the ride, it’s peaceful, but I have to say one of the things that bothers me most is the treatment some motorists give to the cyclists. The general stupidity of some drivers who don’t pay attention and cyclists get hurt.

Unfortunately, there’s a small portion of the population who are ignorant, selfish and self-centered and believe cyclists have no place on the road. Their thought process includes pedestrians, motorcyclists and anyone not driving a vehicle.

Mike and I are riding, and there was this farmer, in his 70s, with a pick-up truck, drives up alongside of us – and you have to remember this is a small country road with no traffic.

This older gentleman pulls up alongside of Dunn and I, rolls down his passenger window and proceeds to tell us to get off of the road because we shouldn’t be there riding and didn’t belong there.”

The guy is clearly stupid.

I’ve been known to flip off a driver like this man when I’ve been buzzed or something like that. I’ve even pedaled fast enough to run them down at a stop sign and give them the business.

But this time I held my tongue and middle finger.

In this day in age, keeping your cool goes a long way. My wife taught me a couple of years ago that it was best to have calm talks with people such as this gentleman as to why they are so angry with cyclists. I have to remind these drivers of the laws.

This older man was screaming and yelling.

I didn’t say a word.

But Dunn … he didn’t subscribe to the same theory.

Dunn ripped this man and told him he was the dumbest %^$&&^**&(*( he’d ever met. I think you get the picture.

You know that feeling, the kind you get when you think something really bad is going to happen?

I knew I was dying that day at the hands of some crazed farmer with a grudge against bicyclists.

You have to remember we are 20 miles from the race track. He’s not going to stop his truck and fight. He’s going to do one of two things here. He’s either going to run over us or shoot us.

Remember – no witnesses. I just knew he was going to come back and get us.

With each pedal, I looked for the pick-up truck which never returned.

I had to speak my peace to Dunn.

This is what I told him and I could realistically envision this.

I said, “You know the sad part about this Dunn is that we are going to be dead on the side of the road. Everybody in our sport … every single person … is going to say that poor Mike Dunn. He picked the wrong friend. That Whit Bazemore got him killed.”

You laugh now, but just think what would have been all over the message boards.

That no good Bazemore robbed us of Dunn … I can see it now.

The story of my life.

I’m no saint but I was clearly innocent this time.

So, let me plead my case – if Dunn and I unfortunately end up on the side of the road somewhere – just know that I’m not always the guilty one.

WINNER - defeated Whit Bazemore, 79.17% to 20.83%

#10 – Pat “Sheriff of Carteret” Musi

WAR STORIES CLAIM TO FAME – Once Dropped An M-80 in a Porta-Pot Occupied By Bob Glidden …

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.

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