by Morgan Gales from https://www.cycleworld.com Hiding from the rain, smoking a cigarette outside a bar in Milwaukee, J. Shia’s eyes flicker and dart as she talks about the pull-start BSA she had brought to the Mama Tried Show that year. The passion in her words is curling her shoulders forward and bursting from her fingertips as she speaks. “This bike reminds me of Brad Pitt from Fight Club,” Shia says of her BSA custom—the first member of the dysfunctional motorcycle family she is building. “This little, scrappy street-fighter kid, soccer-player kid. The pull-start is so aggressive. I was like, I wonder what his mom would be like…” Shia continues, half remembering her concept and half creating it as she goes: “He’s an assh—e, but his mom would be this mean, old, chain-smoking, back-alley, London cobblestone b—h. I’m like, I need to build his mom. So the bike I built is his mother.” And so, Devil’s Advocate, bad mother to a street-fighting kid, was built. It’s not your average custom-build backstory, but Shia is not your average custom builder. Her heritage is Lebanese and Syrian, and she is descended from tinsmiths. Devil’s Advocate is a 1957 Royal Enfield Indian that’s been cut, stretched, lowered, and reworked in a way that truly justifies the name of Shia’s Boston workshop: Madhouse Motors. It’s a bike that lies somewhere between sculptural artwork, historical significance, and a functional machine. It’s self-expression on two wheels in a way that only Shia does. It doesn’t look like other motorcycles, and with a foot throttle and tank shift, it doesn’t work like other motorcycles. So, how is this bike both a Royal Enfield and an Indian? When Indian Motorcycle declared bankruptcy in 1953, the company was liquidated, but the brand name was sold to a British company called