A new day has dawned. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, the fridge is full of beer, and you’re in Hell.
But it’s a good Hell. The kind of Hell we can all only pray for. It is the Hell of indecision – which is very different to the Hell where you’re being tortured by demons with pitchforks and being made to listen to Kanye’s love songs to his terrifying ex-wife.
You sit in front of your computer staring at the SC-Project page. Your eyes are wide and your belly roils with desire as you look at all the muffler options arrayed before you like a smorgasbord of exotic materials promising glorious sound and righteous fury.
It’s a marvellous selection, isn’t it? Each muffler a precision-crafted masterpiece of the exhaust art. Calling them “Mufflers” feels wrong. Mufflers are things which muffle other things, thus rendering them less than what they should be. They should be called “Enhancers”. Or “Sex-Cannons”. Or “Sacred Thunder Tubes”.
But as William Shakespeare observed, “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet”. So it doesn’t matter what kind of anodyne name is given to them. It’s what they do and how they look that matters.
And which SC-Project muffler you choose is what also matters. Very much so. What will your choice of can say about you? Which one will suit your bike better? Which one will sing the song you want to hear over and over again?
Decisions, decisions, decisions…
I cannot make that decision for you. Buying a sex-cannon is a very personal thing. All I can do is humbly offer you a holistic overview of your options. Then the call is all yours. Sitting in front of that computer for the next nine months wracked with indecision like a girl buying a pair of shoes is shameful. And we can’t have that, can we?
A classically-shaped thunder-tube crafted from AISI 304 stainless steel, the Conico offers the booming, deep-bass rumble that disintegrates panty-elastic as its tapered sensuality forms goosebumps in intimate places.
It’s perfect for the individual who enjoys polishing stainless steel – a sensual pastime, which is both hugely gratifying and worryingly obsessive.
The Conico harks back to times when bikes leaked oil and exploded like pipe-bombs. It was a dangerous time when only hard-bitten men, their pockets bulging with oily tools, dared to ride these bikes, and police could be bribed with donuts.
No-one makes bikes like that anymore, which is a little sad. But what’s not sad is that you can put different end-caps on the Conico – even mixing caron-fibre with stainless like a true iconoclast.
Road Approved and Race Version