OK, I have resisted until now. First comment - Selmers are worse than Buffets in this department.
Second - I have done extensive register key modifications for several truly world class clarinetists, The solutions are, in decreasing order of popularity:
1. Use a cork pad on the register key. Before installing the pad, cut a little more than 1/4" off of the pointed end off a large blued steel saxophone needle spring. Push the point through the center of the cork register key pad so that a little more than 1/8" protrudes through the center of the pad. Glue the pad into the register key as usual. When mounted, the point of the needle spring should protrude into the center of the register key vent tube, even when the key is open.
The science behind the modification:
There is an oscillation in and out of the register key tube when the key is open. This movement of air is made more efficient when there is a cone inserted into the opening of the vent. This cone is the tip of the needle spring. Experts in "scavenging" of exhaust from dragster engines will understand better than anyone else.
Caveat:
Expect to find this tip on online discussions by a fat, bizarre sax repairman who will pawn it off as his own idea. It's not his idea, and it's not mine.
2. Cut off a short length of flat spring for a saxophone. It should be slightly shorter than the length of the register key vent tube. Most flat springs taper from the hole where the screw holds them to the tip, where the spring is narrower. Cut the spring so that the wide end is the same width as the internal diameter of the vent tube at the external end. Press fit the spring into the vent tube so that it is slightly below the external opening covered by the pad.
Good stuff:
Both modifications are reversible. They may solve your problem, or they may make it worse. I have never had any returns on the needle spring modification. I have performed the needle spring modification as an assistant to a designer for the Buffet corporation during a clinic on clarinets.
Both modifications are decades, if not centuries, old. When the fat, bizarre sax repairman
says they are his idea, he is full of cork grease, but then again, we knew that.