I've finally located the doctor charged with handling baby adoptions in this GTA 5 roleplay server, and I'm now faced with two options: "Babys" and "Give Back Baby". It's a crude choice, typo and all, but part of me appreciates the succinctness here. Player-made life-simulation servers in Los Santos are fun but often weighed down with insignificant, needlessly granular details, so such a simple transaction at the 'Baby Shop' – a woman dressed in black, hanging around in the shadows of a hospital car park – definitely cuts through the bullshit.
Granted it also feels like a scene from a horror movie, but we'll dig into that later.
28 babes later
B-movie horror, you'll soon learn, is a constant throughout this weird adventure. Things kick-off with me modeling an avatar by way of a pretty sophisticated modded character creation suite, filled with designer clothes and fashionable trends that reflect the real world. I keep it simple with a white t-shirt, black jeans, and white sneakers, however I unwittingly select a haircut that includes a shaved love heart on the left side of my head that I do not care for. I might have vouched for this style when So Solid Crew rocked the UK music charts back in the day, but that was over 20 years ago and I was in my early teens.
Nevertheless, questionable hairdo aside, I spawn in the backyard of a fancy house in the Vinewood Hills, and begin my long walk towards the city. This particular server hosts up to 100 players at any given time, but there's only just over a dozen online right now. This means it's quiet. Like, really quiet. With every facet of AI involvement switched off – NPC pedestrians, traffic, and even ambient sound effects – I don't see or hear from another soul during my midnight trek from the posh part of town to the center. There are no cars to steal, no trains to catch, and, in essence, no other mode of transport besides hoofing it on-foot.
Like the opening stages of 28 Days Later but in reverse, I eventually make it alone to the hospital, but struggle to locate the access points for the 'Baby Shop', 'Baby Adoption', or, Jesus Christ, 'Baby Hospital'.
What I do find instead is a levitating doctor who appears to gratuitously charge me three grand every time I interact with him with no obvious benefit.
After searching high and low, around abandoned offices and down empty corridors in search of a clinic or similar, I realize that the three totally not suspect-looking individuals loitering out in the hospital car park are, in fact, the respective adoption center, baby shop, and baby hospital points of contact. And then I get this:
It seems grossly unfair to place greater value on one child over another, but there's a five thousand dollar difference between most other toddlers and the onesie-wearing tike shown in the third image here:
"Fuck this, I think, and quit on the spot. I return to the job center and become a chimney sweep."
With 25 grand in my wallet total, I use the remainder of my cash to buy food, water and medical supplies for my new addition, and then… well, I somewhat irresponsibly haven't considered what to do next. There are purchasable homes all over this roleplay server but, unsurprisingly, they cost money. Quite a lot of money, in fact, and I've just waxed my last cents on Onesie Baby here, and their infant supplies.
Okay, so let's get a job. I head to the job center, baby in tow, and take on a fast food delivery role. For some reason, I struggle to get Onesie Baby on the back of my scooter, and while I think about leaving them on the sidewalk momentarily while I scoot round the route, the sight of them idling on the asphalt, stranded and abandoned is heartbreaking. Fuck this, I think, and quit on the spot. I return to the job center and become a chimney sweep. The company gives me a van, and while I don't have a car seat which I'm sure is totally against the law, Onesie Baby sits in the passenger seat while I climb rooftops and wipe dirty chimney pots down with a yellow sponge.
This is a start, but the money is shit. Our guide on how to make money fast in GTA Online is great in the official Grand Theft Auto servers, but it's different here. Onesie Baby has run out of food and water and has taken to screaming at the top of their lungs, for goodness sake. Poor thing.
Despite the moral ambiguities of the role, I learn that deboning chicken carcasses at the abattoir pays really well, so I sign up and head to the factory downtown. I leave Onesie Baby with a colleague in the foyer, and they give me a golf cart for some reason that I keep accidentally ramming into dead cow corpses hanging from the ceiling.
I've also not had any training, and I'm not entirely sure I'm handling that big knife correctly.
When I finish my shift, I collect my pay cheque and ask my colleague where Onesie Baby has gotten to. They stare back at me, glazed eyes and vacant, and I immediately sense that something's wrong. Panicked, I run outside and realize I'm still brandishing the big rusty blade used prior for gutting dead chickens. I can't say for sure, but it's this unhinged image, or the fact that I've failed to provide Onesie Baby with the basic sustenance a young human requires, or maybe even both (almost certainly both) that is causing Onesie Baby to run down the street away from me.
I stand rooted to the spot, wondering where it all went wrong. And then immediately think: I know exactly where this all went wrong, because my relationship with Onesie Baby was, like, The Idiot's Guide to Being A Shit Dad. I could chase, but what's the point? The poor blighter is somehow better off without me in an empty city otherwise known for its soaring crime rates and vagrant disregard for social convetions. What a nightmare.
Fare well, Onesie Baby. We barely knew thee. I wonder if that fast food chain is still hiring. And I wonder if that lady in the hospital car park accepts returns on baby medicine.
NB: On an unrelated note, the server I played on, for whatever reason, included a menu prompt for removing my pants...
Safe to say, Onesie Baby is indeed better off out of my care. Let's just call it a day there.
For more from the Grand Theft Auto roleplay scene, read about how my stint as a murderous garbageman was cut short by the mafia in GTA Online roleplay
My next Metroidvania kick is an ingenious mix of Zelda-like exploration, twin-stick combat, and pitch-perfect controls – with 97% positive Steam user reviews
Stellar Blade keeps fixing things that bothered me when I reviewed it – now including "input time for basic attacks, as well as the timing of blocking and parrying"
