Slapper, Oscar, and I get together in Southern California. A lot of beer and whisky is consumed. The ghosts of both Tomek's mom and Obama visit us in our sleep. We wake up horrified, in tears, and start drinking again.
We call this, "Tuesday."
Good eye my young Padowan. Those Splines would worry me more than the Sprocket Teeth because they are fuuucked uuppp. Hopefully the Designers of the bike (them little Jap Fuckers) made sure that the Countershaft Splines are considerably harder that the Sprocket. If not things could be ugly on that bike.