In an area of law where the cases are, almost by definition, often highly amusing, Rolls-Royce Motor Cars v Dodd  FSR 519 is in a class of its own. John Dodd, the proprietor of an automatic transmission repair business, built his own car - actually taking over a rolling chassis which someone else had started and building a body on it - powered by a second-world-war vintage Rolls-Royce Merlin engine. The first iteration used an engine from a Centurion tank, rather less romantic than had it come from a Spitfire, the most celebrated machine in which the Merlin was used: the second car (its predecessor having been destroyed in a fire) had an engine from a bomber (a Mosquito, apparently). It also had a very different body style. Both cars featured a Rolls-Royce radiator grille and Spirit of Ecstasy mascot, at least until the manufacturer (whose company secretary at the time happened also to be called John Dodd) took him to court where Walton J granted an injunction to prevent passing off (referring to the car as a Rolls-Royce) and infringements of the company's trade marks.
Following the case, Mr Dodd started referring to the car as The Beast. When he promised the judge that he would change the name, Walton J asked where was Beauty. Perhaps in the eye of the beholder?
Thanks to the Internet, I find that Mr Dodd, who moved to Spain after he had breached the injunction within a couple of days (Whitford J fined him £5,000), is still running his automatic transmission repair business. Better still, YouTube has several clips of The Beast in action, including this one from an old edition of Top Gear. The embedded one below includes Mr Dodd executing a doughnut in it, sadly filmed from inside the car so you have to rely on his daughter's commentary.