Hank loved his shovelhead, but it leaked like the Exxon Valdez, and he became frustrated. He’d try to fix one leak, then get another. So, a few years back, he bought a brand new Victory motorcycle, hoping newer technology, would make it leak free. So I found a small dropper bottle and filled it with clean 20w/50, and carried it in my pocket, so that when Hank wasn’t looking, I could put a few drops under his bike, adding to his frustration. We’d go out by his brand new parked bike, and I’d say, “Hank, what’s that under yer bike?” And he’d bend down, put his finger in the oil, and say, “What the fuck!:” Eventually, he caught on, and he called me a mutherfucker. Hank died a couple of years ago, but I still have the dropper bottle.