The New Audi RS5 Is Longer, Louder, and Ready for Munich

The gloves are off in Germany’s compact super-sedan war. Before Audi has even officially pulled the silk from the stage lights, the next-generation Audi RS5 has already strutted onto the internet runway—fully exposed, wide-hipped, and spoiling for a fight.

And make no mistake: this isn’t just another RS refresh. This is Ingolstadt consolidating forces. The new RS5 is set to effectively replace the RS4, streamline the lineup, and square up directly against the benchmark bully from Munich, the BMW M3.

A Baby RS6? Don’t Call It Cute.

Based on the new A5, the RS5 wears its RS-specific bodywork like tailored armor. If the standard car is business class, this thing is Special Forces. The widened fenders aren’t cosmetic fluff—they’re visibly broader, with Audi reportedly swapping out the rear doors entirely rather than simply flaring the originals. That’s commitment.

The proportions promise more attitude too. Longer, wider, and lower than its siblings, yet retaining a 2900-mm wheelbase, the RS5 appears planted and purposeful. The face is dominated by a massive grille framed by yawning cooling intakes, while the shoulders—oh yes, the shoulders—channel vintage Quattro muscle in a way that feels both nostalgic and freshly aggressive.

The wheels? A unique six-twin-spoke aluminum design that looks ready to chew through Autobahn asphalt. Around back, the drama continues: a tall diffuser, twin oval tailpipes (because round is for amateurs), and a Formula 1–style brake light for good measure. The sedan gets a subtle decklid spoiler, the Avant a roof-mounted wing. Black or carbon trim is available on the mirrors, side skirts, and bumpers for those who prefer their menace with a gloss finish.

If the Audi RS6 had a smaller, sharper younger sibling, this would be it.

Screens, Alcantara, and Red Buttons

Inside, Audi Sport sticks to its proven recipe: Alcantara everywhere your fingers land, RS logos stamped like passport visas, and red steering-wheel buttons that beg to be pressed irresponsibly.

The tech suite mirrors the broader A5 family but adds RS-specific graphics. Expect an 11.9-inch digital instrument cluster, a 14.5-inch central infotainment screen, and even a 10.9-inch passenger display—because nothing says modern performance like letting your co-driver monitor lap data while you concentrate on not embarrassing yourself.

Hybrid Power, Properly Applied

Here’s where things get interesting. Audi has confirmed the new RS5 will adopt a plug-in hybrid setup. The likely configuration pairs the twin-turbocharged 2.9-liter V6 with electric assistance, pushing combined output well beyond the S5’s 367 horsepower mild-hybrid arrangement.

Translation: this won’t be some half-hearted eco exercise. Expect a serious bump in torque, sharper throttle response courtesy of instant electric shove, and enough combined output to comfortably exceed its predecessor’s numbers.

Underneath, the RS5 rides on Audi’s PPC (Premium Platform Combustion) architecture—the same bones as the A5 and S5—but fortified with a tighter suspension tune and larger brakes to keep the added electrified muscle in check. In RS tradition, it won’t just be fast in a straight line; it’ll aim to feel surgically precise when the road turns interesting.

The Enemy Camp

Audi isn’t operating in a vacuum. The BMW M3 remains the dynamic yardstick, blending brute force with rear-drive antics (or all-wheel-drive confidence, depending on configuration). Meanwhile, Mercedes-AMG is recalibrating its strategy. The outgoing four-cylinder plug-in hybrid experiment in the Mercedes-AMG C63 S E Performance has faced its share of skepticism, and the brand appears ready to pivot toward an electrified six-cylinder formula in the C53.

In that context, Audi’s move to hybridize the RS5 with a twin-turbo V6 feels less like compromise and more like calculated evolution.

The Big Picture

This new RS5 isn’t just a facelift with bigger wheels. It’s a strategic reset—one model replacing two, hybrid muscle replacing pure combustion, and sharper design replacing subtlety.

If the leaked images and early details hold true, Audi isn’t just refreshing the RS5. It’s redefining it. And when the covers finally come off officially, Munich and Affalterbach will be watching very closely.

Source: Audi

Mini G-Wagen Spotted: Same Attitude, Smaller Footprint

Mercedes-Benz is doing what every heritage brand eventually must: shrinking an icon without shrinking its ego. And if these latest Arctic spy shots are anything to go by, the so-called “Little G” might just pull it off.

A Junior G with Senior Attitude

The incoming baby brother to the legendary Mercedes-Benz G-Class has been spotted deep in winter testing near the Arctic Circle, and this is the clearest look yet at Mercedes’ new entry 4×4 ahead of its debut next year. Internally dubbed “Little G,” the model will sit at the base of an expanded G family—much like how Jaguar Land Rover has stretched the Range Rover and Defender names into full sub-brands.

Unlike the towering, nearly two-meter-tall standard G-Wagen, this newcomer is notably shorter. Earlier prototypes were photographed being dwarfed by the Mercedes-Benz EQS SUV, which stands 1718mm tall. Translation: this isn’t a shrunken tank; it’s more of a compact battering ram.

It will launch with both combustion and electric options, setting up an interesting duel with Land Rover’s forthcoming Defender Sport—an EV-only entry-level off-roader expected to arrive around the same time.

Blocky, Boxy, and Proud of It

The prototype seen lapping frozen test routes appears to be the EV variant, identified by a prominent floor-mounted battery pack visible at the rear. And despite its smaller footprint, the styling sticks religiously to the G-Class playbook.

You still get the upright stance. The squared-off greenhouse. The classic three-window side profile. And yes, the rear-mounted spare-wheel housing—though in the electric version, like the Mercedes-Benz G580 with EQ Technology, that casing doubles as storage for the charging cable.

But Mercedes hasn’t simply run the G through a shrink ray.

The lighting signature appears subtly reworked, with headlamps that look like a half-circle rather than the full circular units on the larger models. It’s a clever move—instantly recognizable, but distinct enough to prevent driveway confusion.

Roof bars are also fitted to the test car, hinting that this entry-level G might lean more toward “active lifestyle” than ultra-lux expedition vehicle. Think bikes on the roof, muddy boots in the back, and fewer champagne flutes in the cupholders.

Not Just a Parts-Bin Special

If you assumed this would be a G-themed body slapped onto an existing platform, Mercedes wants you to think again.

Former tech boss Markus Schäfer has made it clear: this thing is riding on a bespoke architecture. He describes it as a “miniature ladder-frame chassis”—not a full traditional ladder frame like the big G, but engineered to preserve its suspension robustness and wheel proportions.

In other words, authenticity over efficiency.

Schäfer has admitted the Little G uses a surprisingly high number of unique components—far more than corporate accountants typically prefer. Body panels, structural elements, even the door handles are reportedly bespoke. (Apparently you can’t just borrow handles from the parts bin when your big brother has door hardware that sounds like a bank vault closing.)

Sharper, Younger, Still Iconic

From a design standpoint, Mercedes is walking a tightrope.

Former design chief Gorden Wagener calls the look a “tweaked” G-Class—slightly sharper, slightly younger, but unmistakably G. The headlight graphics will be more modern, though still circular in spirit. The overall silhouette remains defiantly boxy.

That restraint is intentional. You don’t redesign an icon; you refine it.

And the G-Class is about as close to untouchable as automotive design gets. It’s survived military origins, AMG excess, and now electrification without losing its identity. The Little G’s job is to broaden the appeal without diluting the myth.

The Big Question

The real test won’t be whether it looks like a G. It clearly does.

The question is whether it drives like one—whether that miniature ladder-frame philosophy delivers the toughness and presence buyers expect. If Mercedes has managed to distill the spirit of the G into a smaller, more accessible package without turning it into a fashion accessory on stilts, it could have a genuine hit on its hands.

A junior G-Class sounds like a contradiction. But then again, so did an electric one—and that turned out just fine.

Next year, we’ll find out whether the smallest G can carry the biggest badge.

Source: Autocar

Rats Are Waging War on Britain’s Cars

Your car alarm won’t help. Neither will a steering lock. The most destructive thieves currently targeting Britain’s vehicles are silent, tireless, and about six inches long.

Across the UK, a surge in rodent activity is turning modern cars into expensive chew toys. Insurance giant Aviva reports that between 2023 and 2024, claims for rat- and mouse-related vehicle damage jumped 28 percent, while the average repair bill climbed to £2,494. In other words: rodents aren’t just stealing crumbs anymore—they’re stealing your paycheck.

Winter is when things get ugly. As temperatures drop, mice and rats hunt for warmth, and today’s cars are basically rolling heated apartments. Grilles, air vents, and even half-open windows offer easy access. Once inside, rodents go straight for the good stuff.

“Chewing wires, gnawing interiors, nesting in engines,” explains Aviva motor claims manager James Driscoll. “They can cause significant damage.”

That damage is no joke. Ask the unlucky owner of a Porsche Cayenne who called in pest controller Tony Smith. A single rat destroyed the SUV’s wiring harness, triggering a £7,000 repair bill. That’s not nibbling—that’s financial assault.

Smith, who runs All Aspects Pest Control in Reading, says the rat population is now “out of control,” and modern cars are making the problem worse. The culprit? Bioplastics used in wiring insulation. Designed to be eco-friendly, these soy-based materials apparently taste fantastic to rats.

It’s like swapping steel for spaghetti.

Garages across the country are now dealing with rodent wreckage on a routine basis. At Ravenscroft Motors in Fleet, Hampshire, Lewis Devin tells stories that sound like rejected Pixar scripts.

A Ford Ranger needed a £200 repair after rodents damaged its transmission harness—then came back the next week with the exact same problem. Another car had its cooling fan jammed by nuts a squirrel had carefully stored between the blades. Foam engine covers? Eaten. Wiring looms? Shredded. Somewhere, a rat is driving a better-equipped car than you.

The scale of the problem is massive. Between 2023 and mid-2025, UK councils logged roughly half a million rodent-related incidents. The British Pest Control Association says more than half its members have seen rat callouts rise in the past five years.

And here’s the real twist: there’s not much anyone can do.

Permanent poison baiting is illegal because it threatens other wildlife, including endangered field mice. And rats, Smith says, are too smart for their own good. They avoid unfamiliar substances, meaning even when poison is used, it’s often ignored.

So Britain’s drivers are stuck in an expensive stalemate with nature—owning vehicles filled with soy-based wiring that smells like dinner to the local wildlife, while pest controllers are legally hamstrung from stopping the feast.

The modern automobile has become quieter, cleaner, and more efficient.

Unfortunately, it’s also become delicious.

If you ever hear scratching behind the dashboard, don’t panic. Just remember: it’s probably not a mechanical fault.

It’s just a rat calculating how much of your wiring harness it can afford to eat today.

Source: Autocar; Photo: Shutterstock

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