In 1981, avuncular Judge Joseph Wapner hosted a little show called "The People's Court," where Wapner dropped the gavel on people's small claims cases. This was early "reality TV" featuring everyday people with everyday problems.

The show became a huge hit, spawning an entire sub-genre of TV that has since taken time slots away from game shows, talk shows and soaps. Today, there are a dozen judge shows on the airwaves, from "Judge Judy" to "Judge Mathis."

They all hew to the original "People's Court" formula: an austere wood-lined faux courtroom featuring a judge wearing a black robe and a stern bailiff.

Last fall, "Street Court" broke down those walls. Brooklynite Michael Mazzariello, who goes by Judge Mazz, dispenses with the robe and takes the show on the road, going to the scene of the crime. Sure, he's never been a judge. But he has legal cred as an assistant district attorney and criminal defense lawyer.

"It's justice making house calls," Mazzariello said in an interview at Palas Jewelers in Buckhead. He and his crew were shooting a series of cases in Atlanta earlier this month.

"Street Court" has already been given a second season. "It's doing OK," said TV industry analyst Bill Carroll of Katz Television Group in New York. "In most cases, it's part of overall court blocks [of shows] and in that sense, it's doing as well as that middle range of court shows."

Locally, the show airs on CW 69 at 1 and 1:30 p.m weekdays.

Mazz, 50, grew up in what he calls the "homicide capital of the world" in Brooklyn. He got his TV break as a legal expert on Atlantan Nancy Grace's HLN show. In 2008, she suggested he try television on a full-time basis. He was skeptical.

"I have this big nose and Brooklyn accent," he said.

But that made him distinctive.

The case I watched featured Atlanta's Vicki Young, who sued Leon Lott for $1,500 in small claims court. "Street Court" called before Christmas and offered to take the case into arbitration. The TV show pays damages so neither side loses on that front.

Mazzariello didn't cut Lott much of a break. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!" he said a couple of times. He called Lott a "huckalero" (his signature insult) for not fulfilling his obligations. "Be accountable!" he barked.

Despite the insults, Lott liked the TV judge. "He's extremely fair," said Lott, a 44-year-old College Park security guard.

"He's very charismatic. I used to live in Queens. He's funny!"