(For those who haven’t been able to keep up to date on this whole thing, you can see previous updates on my Kinja profile.)

This will be a good bit shorter than the usual. After 2 full days of wrenching on the car, I am beat and looking forward to crawling into my bed. It would seem that Mini’s are inclined to resorting to fisticuffs when being reassembled.

As of the end of tonight, the new clutch assembly is installed, thanks to a new and undamaged Valeo throwout bearing from Way Motor Works​ delivered personally in an exceedingly gallant white-glove manner by a fellow Mini owner and friend. The supercharger has been serviced and is installed, the transmission is back in the car with brand new Redline MTL sloshing around inside, and the subframe with all its associated bits and pieces is installed. That is essentially all of the big stuff. Fun was had with the steering knuckle and dogbone engine mount, but otherwise everything else went as smoothly as could be expected. We even replaced as many snap-in hose clamps as we could with actual worm-style hose clamps (pro-tip: don’t buy hose clamps from Harbor Freight).

Tomorrow we continue struggling with trying to reinstall the supercharger inlet tube and begin putting on all of the remaining smaller items. The hope is that by the end of tomorrow night I should be bedding the brakes before returning to work and going easy on the new clutch for a while.

Oh- I almost forgot. Slave cylinder number 3, counting the original stock unit, is now leaking. Number 3- as in the second brand-new replacement we’ve tried. And since the Mini has been on the lift for more than 2 weeks before we could try out the new slave cylinder with the new clutch, I’m past the 10-day period to return it to the dealership​ for a refund. So that is $70 down the drain right there.

Yeah. I’d rather not discuss my feelings about that one. They’re not pleasant in the least.

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We discovered that happy little tidbit as we made preparations to bleed the hydraulics first thing earlier today. When I checked inside the boot of the cylinder before compressing it for re-bleeding, I found fluid. Lovely, lovely hydraulic/brake fluid (read: sarcasm). We have yet another OEM-replacement unit, this time a ‘Perfection’ brand, we’re going to try tomorrow with an entirely new compression jig setup and many crossed fingers.

However, something tells me I’m going to have to give Greene Performance​ another call and scrounge enough parking-lot change to pay $115 for their proprietary heavy-duty slave cylinder as a replacement for the idiotically engineered and shoddily constructed plastic OEM unit.

If it comes to that, I’m going to find out which drunk-on-the-job German engineer got paid actual money to design the ‘I don’t know how grade-school fluid dynamics and buoyancy work’ OEM slave cylinder and approved it to be constructed entirely out of Faberge cotton candy and I’m going to mail him the stack of failed and leaking slave cylinders I currently own, along with a picture of an angry Liam Neeson. Even amidst the haze of the inebriated stupor I’m sure he’s in, he should get the hint.

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And then I’m going to track down the nearest priest and ask him if someone approved me to star in ‘The Book of Job 2: Why God, Why?’ and didn’t tell me.