Bagetto

Rebels Kustoms - Modded Bike job, 3/4. Closing the deal. Phone Call from Based My phone buzz in my pocket. Unknown number, but I have a good guess who it is. I step out of the garage, flick open my burner, and answer. "Yo." There’s a short pause before the deep, familiar voice responds. "That bike ready?" "Yeah, it's done. Runs smooth, mods are clean. You’ll love it." "Good. I’m coming by to check it out. Ain’t taking it for a ride, I trust your work, just need to see the setup—compartment, numbers, and all that. Sort the price while I’m there." I glance toward the garage where the bike sits, polished and waiting. "Works for me. When you pullin’ up?" "Fifteen." Short and to the point, just like always. "A’ight, see you then." The line goes dead. I slip the phone back into my cut and exhale. Time to lock in the deal. Meeting at the Garage Fifteen minutes later, a blue cheetah rolls into up. The driver’s door swings open, and Based steps out, dressed in his usual fitted black shirt and clean jeans, boots hitting the pavement with weight. His presence is sharp, controlled, always business. I nod as he approaches. "Right over here." A beauty—sleek, clean red finish, custom pipes, everything dialed in. He gives it a once-over, hands in his pockets, eyes scanning every inch. "You did good," he mutters, stepping closer. He crouches near the frame, tapping a knuckle against the side panel. "Show me." You kneel beside him, unlocking the hidden compartment with a quick, practiced motion. The panel clicks open smoothly, revealing the concealed stash space—big enough for what it needs to hold, seamless enough that no cop would spot it without a reason. Based smirks, running a hand along the edges. "Clean work. Real clean." I nod. "Ain't my first time. It’s solid, reinforced. You could drop it off a truck and it wouldn't pop open." He gives a satisfied grunt, standing up and dusting his hands. "What’s the number?" I wiped my hands on a rag, leaning back against the caravan. "Fifty. Is the normal price, but seeing as I'm a bit late here, I'll cut you a sweet deal of 35" That's a sweet price, I'll take it "Cash?" I ask. He reaches into his jacket, pulls out a thick envelope, and tosses it onto the bike. I'd appreciate it, if you could make sure it gets delivered safely to our base in Los Santos." "Not a problem." I pick up the envelope, flipping through the neatly stacked bills. All there. I tuck it away and glance at him. "I’ll drop it off tonight." Based nods once, stepping back. "Good. See you then." He turns on his heel, heading back to his Cheetah. The deal’s set. Now all that’s left is the delivery.

Roleplay type: Warehouse fire Description of roleplay: The crackling of flames echoes through the radio as a call comes in—fire reported at a warehouse just a few blocks away. Without hesitation, I throw on my gear, securing my helmet as I jump into the firetruck. Sirens blare through the sunlight, flashing red and blue cutting through the sunrays as I speed toward the scene. Pulling up, the heat hits me instantly. The warehouse is engulfed, flames licking hungrily at the structure, black smoke billowing into the sky. I grab the radio. "Dispatch, this is Engine 14. We've got a fully involved warehouse fire. Initiating suppression now." Without wasting time, I turn on the big hose and start drowning the flames in a waterfall. Water blasts from the nozzle, colliding with the inferno in a furious hiss. The fire fights back, roaring louder, but I press on, shifting position to cut off its spread. Minutes feel like hours. Sweat drips beneath my mask, steam rising as I douse the flames with relentless force. The structure groans under the strain, but I keep pushing, cutting off oxygen, drowning the embers. Then—finally—the blaze begins to die. The orange glow fades, replaced by smoldering remains. I take a deep breath, stepping back to assess the damage. The warehouse is charred, but still standing. Most importantly, no casualties. I tap my radio. "Fire’s out. Scene secured." Another job done. Another battle won. Location: Warehouse south of LV airport Participants: @Bagetto Screenshots:

Rebels Kustoms - Modded Bike job, 2/4 The sun was high as I rolled up the garage door, the scent of motor oil and metal filling the crisp morning air. With two bikes in front of me, just waiting to be merged into a never seen before beast. Ten grand in hand and a week to deliver— It was time to get to work. This wasn’t just any rebuild. The goal was to blend the comfort and carry capacity of a Wayfarer with the raw speed and agility of an NRG-500. A tricky balance, but one I was more than ready to take on. First, the frame. The Wayfarer had the bulk we needed for stability and storage, but it was far too sluggish for the job. I reinforced it with lightweight alloy, shaving off excess weight without compromising durability. To complement it, I installed the NRG-500’s front fork and rear swingarm, ensuring it would handle high-speed maneuvers without wobbling like a drunk on a barstool. Next, the heart of the beast—the engine. The stock Wayfarer engine was a joke, so I yanked it out and replaced it with a modified NRG-500 powerplant. Tuned fuel injectors, a high-flow air intake, and a custom ECU mapping made sure it would tear down the road without hesitation. To keep it from overheating under pressure, I installed an upgraded cooling system. Storage was key. The Wayfarer’s saddlebags were roomy, but they needed some adjustments. I reinforced the hidden compartments, lining them with heat-resistant material to prevent any ‘cargo’ from being affected by engine warmth. A quick-release latch system made access easy, but only if you knew where to look. Suspension was a must-have upgrade. The Wayfarer’s soft ride had to stay, but with enough stiffness to handle the speed of an NRG-500. I swapped in sport-grade shocks, letting it absorb bumps without losing control. Finally, the aesthetics. With no specifications from the customer, I figured a club color would be more than satisfying - red with red, sure to impress any- and everyone. The exhaust was reworked with a hybrid silencer, letting it stay quiet when needed but roar when unleashed. By the time I was done, this wasn’t just a bike anymore—it was a ghost on wheels, fast when it needed to be, and reliable when it mattered most. Now, all that was left was the test ride.

Rebels Kustoms - Modded Bike job, 1/4 Early morning, The sun was beginning to set behind the tree line in Dillimore, casting shadows over the cracked pavement outside Rebels Kustoms. I was doing a maintenance check on our bikes, hands deep in grease, tightening a few bolts on a brother’s ride when I heard the low rumble of an approaching engine. It didn’t purr—it sputtered, struggled, like it was begging for mercy. I wiped my hands on a rag and stepped out just as the bike rolled into the lot. The rider killed the engine, swung a leg over, and pulled off his helmet. He looked a lot cleaner than his bike, and somewhat out of place on his ride. “You the one that can make this thing not ride like a damn lawnmower?” he asked, nodding toward his bike. I smirked, giving the machine a quick once-over. It was a solid build but had seen better days—stock engine, sluggish response, nothing special. But I could work with it. “Depends,” I said, crouching down to inspect the exhaust. “You looking for speed, power, or something extra?” He glanced around, trying to make sure no unwanted ears were nearby. - Maybe we can talk inside? We went inside, I grabbed us a couple beers and we continued out chat. He leaned in slightly. “I need it fast. Real fast. And I need it ready to carry... certain things. Cocaine to be specific” I raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask any further questions. Business was business. I told him about a project I had been wanting to do for a while, ideas was just waiting to be made reality. Saying if he wasn't too attached to his current bike, I could make his new from completely new parts. We finished our beers, he laid down a 10k payment, and we shook on our deal. A week at the latest he said, guess I'll better get to work.

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There's no reason to remove the country zones, so just keep them.